Inspiration

I think most writers, or creative people in general, would say inspiration is a mystery. Sometimes, a total stranger makes an offhand comment and it triggers something in your mind. Sometimes, a segment on the news catches your attention and you find yourself mulling it over for days. This is the arrival of an idea — that strange phenomenon that is like “the appearance of a keyhole through which you can glimpse a room that contains a poem, a story, or a novel. You still have to find the key that unlocks that room; that happens as you proceed to develop the idea” (From Poets & Writers).

I don’t really have specific things that inspire me. Some movies, but not all movies. Some books, but not all books. Some paintings, but not all paintings. Some songs, but not necessarily every time I listen to them. Some people, but not all people. Some rainy days, but not every rainy day. It’s all kind of random, which is how it should be. That’s what’s exciting about inspiration — you never really know when it’s going to hit you. It’s a bit like finding love, I guess — it comes along when you least expect it, when you’re not looking for it, when you’re not trying so hard.

So, instead of attempting to dissect what inspires, I think it’s more interesting to explore when we’re inspired. For me, it’s whenever my mind is focused on something relatively simple. Inspiration hits me most when I’m just outside, in fresh air, thinking of nothing but my surroundings.

Every morning, almost without fail (it rains occasionally in Southern California and I get sick about once every few years…knock on wood), I go for a walk. I confessed this to some coworkers the other day and the response was, “You’re a weirdo.” Granted. But, it’s while walking, listening to my iPod, sipping hot licorice tea from my Krispy Kreme portable mug (I have no idea why I own this), that I get ideas.

This time of year, it’s dark when I walk and it’s usually cold enough to require a wool hat. There’s something about the stillness that calms me. And, watching the sunrise, everything falls into perspective, almost instantaneously. How can any of my worries trump the sun? It’s only with that clarity that ideas for stories can enter my head. During the hectic workday, I’m too distracted by other things to really listen to characters or consider plot. Removing myself for just a half hour, for that early morning walk, is not only necessary for my writing, but for my overall sanity.

There are a few other things that work for me in the same way. Yoga is one. If I’m concentrating on holding Half Moon pose, for example, I’m probably not cycling through a number of other thoughts from the day. That gives my mind the space it needs to let in ideas. I also get inspired when I’m cooking — just cutting vegetables or watching water boil or stirring a sauce. And, of course, almost every creative person I know says, “I get ideas in the shower.” I have to think it’s because we’re not really thinking in the shower  — we’re going through motions that occupy our bodies while keeping our minds at rest. There’s peace in that little glass enclosure.

I reached out to several writers I know and asked them when they get their inspirations. Here are the responses, in no particular order:

~ Reading
~ Making mosaics
~ Painting furniture
~ Creating something out of recyclable material, something I might otherwise have gotten rid of but can transform into art and something useable
~ Taking a bath
~ Eavesdropping on comments in the workplace
~ Vacuuming
~ Dancing
~ Inventing pies
~ Exploring antiques: Shapes, colors, images, tattered fabrics, yellowed paper, patterns, worn corners, deep patinas, words of wisdom, graceful carvings, bubbled-glass, gently worn surfaces
~ Running
~ Nursing my son
~ Driving
~ Sitting in traffic
~ Organizing my pantry