Smoldering meds and sweet aroma cuddles the dark room. Quiet house. It’s late and I’m looking for something. Call it direction or a path. I’m not. I’m just looking for some inspiration. A boost. Something that ignites a thought that makes me want to say something or do something natural. Authenticity. I’m looking for authentic inspiration.
Inspiration. Authentic inspiration. It comes to me. But listening is hard for the inpatient. But if I do… sometimes inspiration comes from just about anything. I’m on two paragraphs into writing something literally from the lack of inspiration…
Junk inspiration. Heard of it? Me either. Pretty proud right now… people are inspired. Art, music, architecture, science, brilliance… Big picture inspiration that can inspire societies and cultures are great. But think about the wasted inspiration when you are being forced. Some can do it. I can’t. Junk inspiration in my opinion is when you actually try to force inspiration in order to accomplish a specific and predetermined task. For example, you have a tight deadline so your inspiration is…
True authentic inspiration to me is on a more personal level. You cannot rush it. You cannot plan for it. Hell, sometimes you can barely navigate it once it hits you. Dynamic personal relationships that I personally have inspire me to not be a better me, but to actually be the authentic me. Like so many, I have only truly found that type of inspiration from a select few beautiful spirits. Grateful is an understatement.
The inspiration is there when I stop looking. It’s awesome when I let it organically evolve. It dies when I forget the most important part. I let the thought escape from my mind that when I am the authentic me it might inspire the ones that I love. Inspire them to continue to inspire myself and others. Or that may just be one of those delusions of grandeur…..
Sitting in a dark room. Smoldering sweet aroma of the meds still linger and I am left uninspired.
~bridges