Trusting the Muse

I try to start each day with the intention to pay attention. Throughout the day, I stay aware and attuned to any ideas for my writing that present themselves to me. They often appear unbidden, sometimes gifted to me subtly. Other days, they are presented like a bonk on the head.

Today, I’m writing earlier than usual since I’ve got a full afternoon. Experiences and interactions haven’t yet fertilized my subconscious with idea seeds. So I’m drawing on what already lives in my mind.

Sometimes when I do this all I can bring forth are to-do lists, complaints, angst, and worries. But sometimes—actually often, when I look back—magic happens and something wholly unexpected, even necessary, surfaces.

Even when I set an intention for what I’ll write, I’m often led down a completely unanticipated path. In the weekly Co-Writing Sessions we host in the Women Writing for Change group, rarely a week goes by when someone doesn’t acknowledge how often that happens to them.

Too frequently, writers (mostly aspiring ones) tell me they write only when inspiration hits them. That works for so few.

If we don’t show up regardless of how inspired (or not) we feel, the muse has no where and no one to bestow her/his/its gifts upon. I fully believe that when I honor my muse by showing up for her, she shows up for me. She doesn’t always take me where I think I’m going, but it’s usually where I need to go.

Prompt: Do you write only when inspired or do you have a regular practice of showing up to write? What is a muse; what does that mean to you? If you have one, what is your relationship with her/him/it? Is there trust and honor? Or is it prickly? If you don’t believe you have a muse, why not?

This post first appeared on my Substack publication.