I have been a professional muse now for several years.
I would say I was probably an amateur until my mid-20s,
and that at some point of satori, I turned pro.
It used to be part of an old personal myth, you see, that I was destined to inspire and then those inspired by me, would leave me, consumed by their newfound passion and motivation.
It felt fatalistic, and isolating and oh. . so. . tragic. Ah, the Lonely Professional Muse - the Catalyst always left behind when the chemical reaction is all used up.
I turned pro, I believe, when I realized that:
a) We all inspire each other. Of course. This whole isolating thing was made up in my head, even if I did inspire people, I was the one who created the self-important, narcissistic, tragic mythos to envelope it.
b) We meet when we are supposed to meet. There is a reason all people meet and intersect. We all have a way to inspire each other - if we are open to receiving and seeing it. ( No, I did NOT read the Celestine Prophecy)
c) I AM the INSPIRATION for ME. I thought, who inspires the Muse? Watching the "inspired" be overtaken by their new vision and passion was tragic to me because *I* wasn't doing what I loved. I wasn't being inspired and I was waiting for someone to inspire me! Then I was disappointed and frustrated that no one *could* inspire me well enough. But that was just me, putting the blame on the world - externalizing the excuses for my own torpor - or unreadiness to take charge of my creative vision and life's goals.
I cannot help but feel inspired today. I am sitting at the desk of author Gloria Mattoni, the housemate of my girlfriend Heathervescent, looking out onto a lovely view here in Mount Washington, overlooking a valley through to cute set of hills and houses. It does not look like Los Angeles. We could be somewhere in Europe. Sitting at this desk, one cannot help but write.
Gloria is the author of a book called "Reckless: The Outrageous Lives of Nine Kick-Ass Women" and she herself is an amazing woman of grace and strength. She was called to Italy recently when her sister Marina fell into a coma. If you are reading this, please read her blog, as her strength and love and grace will humble and inspire you, and please join me in sending healing energy, prayers for patience, wisdom, balance and comfort to Marina, Gloria and all their loved ones.
I know what it is like to watch your loved one in a coma . . and wait . . . first hoping they will come back, intact, like a soap opera. Then accepting that if they do even come back, they ( and you ) will be different, and then, at least in my case, my boyfriend in 2003, Barry Jacobs, decided not to come back at all, and took himself to the skies at last, and beyond this physical world. There is fear, terror, anger, despair, compassion, desire for the past, and the sweet, searing realization that it is not our choice to hold or call him back to this world; it is his choice, only his spirit knows when its work is done. The weepeth endureth for the night, but joy comes in the morning. In the mourning. That was in 2003. The same year my Papa and grandfather passed away. It was a hard year. But I can look back with peace. And every cell of that pain, is now transmuted to joy.
Today I will go with Heather to Beverly Hot Springs, the place where I meditated, prayed, incanted and wished, on December 31, 2004, for my 0ne True Love to find me, to see me spinning and shining and waiting steadfastly, from wherever he was. And the next morning he appeared, from across the world. And now we are married and on our way to chez nous, le notre, our shared domain.
It is a day to be inspired by love, new friends, unexpected beauty, the transmutation of joy, and the connection with the infinite Source of life and energy. It is another day to help inspire another, to self-acceptance, empowerment, and self-actualization.
It's another day for me to be a professional Muse. Although I like these Muses, too.