Inspiration is a funny thing, isn’t it? Sometimes it strikes like lightning, and other times it’s the best hide and seek opponent you’ve ever had. And I’ll be honest… I’m not feeling particularly “inspired” today. My brain is tired. Content, but tired. So it seems a funny day to be writing about this. And yet, something in me wanted to. Maybe because inspiration is more pedestrian than we’ve made it out to be.
What is it about inspiration that’s so special? There are countless books written about it detailing ways to find it, channel it, create it, savor it. It seems a wild horse that we creative people are meant to train so we can harness its elusive powers.
I actually believe it’s much simpler than that. What if the secret to inspiration has more to do with a way of viewing the world rather than a specific thing to be found?
Maybe this will help illustrate—I once heard a quote that went something like this:
“Don’t be so focused on what you’re looking for that you miss what you actually find.” I think that applies here. Sometimes I feel myself going on what I call an “inspiration quest.” I intentionally pull myself from reality in search of deeper, greater inspiration than what my present surroundings seem to be offering me. And while I do think there’s value to going off for a change of routine or scenery (which you’ll know if you read my first book, PLACES!), there is another way of tapping into inspiration. Maybe we don’t have to go looking for it, after all.
How, you ask? By adjusting the lens through which you see the world.
For example, let’s say I go for a walk in my neighborhood. If my mindset is one of openness, of receiving, of absorbing, then I’m more prone to notice the beauty of the flowers and vegetation. I’ll appreciate the cute little beach bungalows and neighbors walking their dogs. I’ll smile at the kids going to school in the morning and think about all the friends going out for happy hour drinks to celebrate promotions and proposals and pregnancy. But if I go for a walk with a mindset of focus, targeted on a specific topic, I’m much less likely to experience any of those things. I might replay that tricky conversation in my head and wonder if I said the wrong thing. I may catch myself walking fast to catch the crosswalk signal before the light changes. I might get lost in the questions that plague me and play out scenarios and solutions in my mind. While none of this is bad, it’s a different approach than one which welcomes inspiration.
When you consider the mental position from which you are absorbing and digesting your own life and the lives of those around you, nearly anything has the potential to be inspiring.
So, to finally answer the question… my inspiration comes from all over. It comes from the mundane—like a middle of the night rain, or the way the shadows dance across my bedroom floor when the light is just right, or the child in the produce section at the grocery store who can’t stop smiling. And it also comes from the extraordinary—like the extravagant wedding filled with hometown friends, or the moment of meeting a best friend’s baby, or the reunion of dear friends after far too long without seeing each other. Inspiration is wherever you want it to be. It’s the sound of boots on cobblestone, the feeling of sun and wind on the open roads, the satisfaction of finishing a project after hours of hard work, the taste of a cold beer on a hot summer day, the joy of a book ending that hits you just right, and the feeling of a smooth pen writing in a gorgeous journal. It’s the confetti on the sidewalk, the blushing date two tables over, the sizzling burger on the grill, the classic car parked up the street, the people at the airport on a long layover.
It’s everything, all over, whenever you decide to tap in.
Join me.
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