Today’s lesson: don’t wait for inspiration to come to you. Make it yourself.
Invisible Inspiration

Today’s lesson: don’t wait for inspiration to come to you. Make it yourself.

I was talking to my bride this morning and she told me about how a nutritionist blogger’s post stirred up a powerful emotional reaction in people. One of the most common responses to her post, apparently, was some variation of “don’t tell us what to do.”
That’s the battle cry for every US citizen, isn’t it? We are a nation of rebels and independent spirits–this is the cornerstone of our cultural identity. It’s why the American Revolution is such an all encompassing focus in our history classrooms.
The newest generations born into this tradition have an absolutely wonderful problem: “What do we rebel against?”
For all of its many problems and our nostalgia, the world has never been a better place and it’s getting better. It’s not perfect, but it IS improving. American citizens born into this world have less to struggle against and with no clear opposition or enemy, many turn upon each other and the previous generations, with whom there is a growing technological and cultural gap.
It is not my intention to villainize the younger generations–far from it. I sympathize. Ours is a nation of rebels, we bring our children up to be rebels, and there’s no clear enemy to rebel against or cause to fight for. The quest now is finding our cause, and it’s not an easy one because finding a cause to truly believes means finding yourself.

I had tea the other day with a man who told me he’d been married three times. He said this in jest, and clarified that he meant that his wife had grown as a person and a woman throughout their marriage and how fortunate he was to have been a part of her journey and to share his life with her. I thought it was a beautiful sentiment and so we have today’s poem.

Today we celebrated my grandmother’s 90th birthday with friends and family, food and memories. This poem was inspired by this celebration of her life.

More musings on creatives and the creative journey.

Today’s been a good day.

Oops! I wrote today’s poem but got interrupted when I started to put it up on the blog. Almost forgot entirely that it still needs to be shared!
My bride and I have been having problems with our technology lately. My computer has been giving me no end of grief and trying to replace it hasn’t been a picnic. Just about everything that can go wrong has. Yesterday we had one of those freak accidents that would be hilarious if it wasn’t so expensive.
Our dog got spooked by an insect biting him on the bottom and spun around. I’m doing so he caught the phone charger hooked up to my bride’s phone, pulling the phone off the table and on top of him. Already panicked, he bit the phone. I could not make this up. The phone is all but unusable. Fortunately the puppy is fine.
The entire affair has me thinking about humanity’s relationship with its tools. We really aren’t that impressive a species when you think about it, not until you begin to examine our minds, adaptability, and ingenuity. Take away our tools and it’s a drastic blow to our effectiveness and capability.

Today marks another milestone. That’s two months down! Ten more to go.
It seems fitting to mark this occasion with a love poem dedicated to my better half and creative partner in crime, my bride. We men are not always the best communicators. Not to say that all men are terrible at it, only I’ve found that those of us in passionately loving relationships have a tendency to miss things. We fail to confer with our partners, or simply forget things they tell us in passing. And it’s not done out of any sort of misogynistic default or dismissal so much as simple distraction.
Love makes fools of us all, and I am no exception.

You ever have your whole day planned out? You’re proud of it. Know that you’re going to be productive. Pleased that you’ve managed to work everything together just so. Why, your schedule is practically a work of art.
Then a phone call. Good news or bad. Disruption. The plans are shattered and you’re left rushing forward through the day trying to pick up as many of the original pieces as you can along the way. Blessings in disguise and lessons to be learned here.

For the very first time our “day” doesn’t match up with our “date.” It’s a really good feeling. 32 days of poetry and counting! Just 333 more days of poetry to go! Love that number, 333.
Yesterday a rainstorm rolled through and left a blanket of fog covering everything. It’s still with us today and inspires this afternoon’s poem.
Enjoy the first poem of our second month on this creative journey.
