the inspiration issue

Lately, I wish I had a safe place to stash my soul when I leave the house. Because in this economy, it’s tough out there for a soul. How do I keep myself from becoming hardened or hopeless when people I know are laid off and laid low? What happens when my creativity gets a dry mouth and a bad case of the Dreads in the middle of a project?  And how do I plunge wholeheartedly into a brainstorming session when I feel brain dead from so much uncertainty and flux? I’ve learned that I can’t wait for the Muse to pay me a visit on her temperamental schedule, but I also can’t force ideas to bloom before their time. Just as it takes patience to wait for paperwhites to unfurl, so it often requires sleeping on a piece of writing to allow it to grow in darkness. On the other hand, I know from experience that practice is everything—to keep writing, to keep working, to keep hoping, over and over and over, even when you don’t want to. It’s a delicate balance and one that I’m constantly negotiating.  I want my soul to survive hard times without going into hiding or disguising its true voice, but I’m always questioning how to do that. And sometimes, the only answer I come up with is “ice cream.”  And sometimes, that’s just right.