Nuances and anomalies: An exploration of inspiration
I breathe in inspiration and and exhale hope — sounds like the beginning of a mantra. A phrase repeated, then believed.
But what inspires me — brings me life through metaphorical breath? These are “the nuances and anomalies of my day.” These are the things that bring me life — they are life. Mac and cheese Saturdays. Reminders that we’re glad you’re here. We anticipate and welcome your presence.
Community gives me life — inspiration to draw. In the faith of others when I do not believe myself. I am called to mourn with, be with, experience with. I breathe out words. Breathe in story. Life. Hope.
I breathe in becoming from the safety of community. When I don’t know where the hope comes from — and stare incredulously back when reminded of its existence — I breathe. I experience life as it is. I breathe out expectation. Breathe in love for myself. Notice the self doubt, wishing for inspiration, little reminders of what could be.
I let myself hurt for what cannot not be — breathing through the sadness, forgetting possibilities. I fear for hope. Inspiration is so easily squashed. What happens to ideas that never become themselves? Whose existence is never made known. Only whispered.
How do I know when inspiration is real? Is it a ghost? A phantom dream of what I never had, could never be? Is inspiration hope waiting to be squashed? Lost before it can be found again.
Inspiration whispers, this is why. I want to believe her. Me. I want to believe in the possibility of hope. Is inspiration from the broken spaces? How does she mend? Can she create out of nothing, but fear and longing? How does she survive to become herself?
Is inspiration the thing itself or what comes before? How does she endure — to create in the blank spaces in between?