Following inspiration

I recently started reading “Knowing Where to Look” by Light Watkins. He quotes the dictionary definition of Inspiration. “The process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially something creative.” The exact opposite of how I’ve been feeling for I don’t know how long. Uninspired. Mentally unstimulated. Feeling nothing, with no creative pulse. Dense and thick.

He also references this quote from Anaïs Nin. “Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.”

This state I’m in: not a conscious choice, I think. I’ve slid here, somehow. Living a utilitarian life. Eat, work, sleep, clean, cook. Do the necessary then stare blankly.

Without creative inspiration I feel no purpose. Like there’s virtually no difference between aliveness and deadness. Like I could slip away into nothing, fading from view without a struggle.

I worry I’ve become numb to Inspiration’s voice. That I can’t hear it anymore. It gave up on me. Moved on. My heart, relinquishing itself to dullness.

I read. I write. Music plays in the background. Plus tôt by Alexandra Streliski. A small twinge of inspiration. I follow it. (I’ve been wanting to learn that piece.) Her website. Sheet music for sale. Purchase. Download PDF. Go to piano. Play.

I feel a thing. I keep going, and let myself feel more.

I imitate, tinker, listening for what moves me. I create.