I wake up so many times in the middle of the night and I have to write. I mean like the words are bursting forth and it feels like a dam is about to break. Often, it happens in the witching hour when that inspiration calls to me and urges me awake from my slumber.
Sometimes, I fight that urge, not wanting to move from the soft, warm indentation my body has created in just the right spot in my bed, where I am cradled under layers of blankets.
In those futile moments, I try to mentally rehearse the words that want to pour through around in my brain. I try to remember the story lines pushing against me. I will repeat them several times, playing them back, insisting that by doing that I will remember the download word for word, only to lose them completely upon waking later in the morning. No matter how hard I try, the words are nowhere to be found.
I’ve lost the inspiration.
Other times, like last night, I rise to the call, and let the summons guide me to write what wants to be expressed through me and allow the words to simply flow like water down a hill. If I don’t have a notebook or paper by my bed (I am getting much better at making sure that I do), I grab my phone and I write on my Notes app and just type away.
Most of the time my fingers can barely keep up with the overflow of ideas and sentences pouring out of me. I try to scribble or tye as much as I can, as fast as I can, to capture all of it. I’m still in a state of semi-sleep, so I don’t care about grammar, spelling or even if what I’m writing makes any sense.
I just write.
And, I write until I stop.
The words just end. I don’t have to do anything. It’s like a switch goes on, the words flow, and then just as quickly the switch goes off. When I’m done, I simply put my phone back on the charger or stash my trusty notebook away on the top of my nightstand. Then, I drift back off to sleep … normally, with little to no effort on my part.
I always find it interesting to read the words that come through in the light of the new morning, as I often write in the dark or with a dimly lit light next to me as I don’t want to fully come out of my slumber and want to be able to drift back to sleep when I’m done.
There are even times when I didn’t know I woke in the middle of the night to write until in the waking I see my scribbles and notes.
I recognize in those quiet hours of the night that I am not the one writing. I am merely a channel for the Muse. She speaks through me at the oddest times, and I have learned my job is to give her ample space and to provide a pathway for her to speak. As I allow her to speak her words, creativity is birthed and harnessed.
In Greek mythology, a Muse is one of the goddesses, or daughters, of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the gods who reign over the arts and sciences. According to the Oxford Dictionary, amuse is also defined as a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.
Essentially, a muse is an entity that serves as inspiration to the artist.
My Muse tends to show up in the oddest and most unusual places, too. I might be taking a shower when download after download comes rushing through as if to cascade over me with the water. In the past, I used to have shower markers ready so I could turn my walls into a whiteboard to keep up with the ideas brewing.
She also speaks to me when I am out on trail, walking Ernie. Or, driving. All I can say is thank god for voice text. I can’t tell you how many files I have of me rambling to myself. I assure you, if someone stole my phone that they’d think I was batshit crazy after listening to all my musings.
The Muse comes when I’m washing dishes, doing laundry, or even going to the bathroom. It’s those times when I am lost in doing something, when I can tune out most of the noise, that contemplation and inspiration hit.
I’ve learned to carry a notebook with me everywhere, or at least have my phone handy so I can capture those moments. Many of my articles, blog posts, copy, and content are birthed from those sparks of inspirations. I know, for me, alignment comes when I pay attention to those downloads and take inspired action on them, putting them into motion.
So, when the Muse calls, I listen.
What about you?
Do you hear the Muse when she calls you? Do you fight the urge? Or, do you take immediate, inspired action?
I’d love to hear your stories and the way she speaks to you …