The WordPress Zeortohero month organizers are asking us about the idea or the thing that what was on our minds when we first started blogging! I don’t know. But I can identify the state of mind that literally pushed me into this.
When I started writing on WordPress, it wasn’t my first time certainly. I have begun writing ever since I was a kid. I keep saying this over and over again; am a woman of words! A word can make me fall in love and a word can make me fall out of it. A word can kill me and a word can save me. In fact, throughout my life, I have changed inside out because of so many words that I read or that were said to me. That’s how I have always been, and that’s why I have always believed in the 18th century literary concept of the writer as a poet-prophet.
To me, inspiration and muses do exist. Something which I haven’t admitted until only very recently, when I experienced firsthand what they could do to you if you don’t answer their calling. I know that blocks are sometimes self-enforced by the subconscious, or they could be your punishment for refusing to accept the mission you’ve been entrusted with as a selected man of words. A writer’s block can kill you a thousand times in a day.
Just three years before I kicked off my WordPress blog, I had let myself slip into a trough of despair and agony. The more melancholic I got, the colder my relationship with my pen grew. We drifted apart and that has –literally- sucked the life out of my life! I didn’t understand back then that melancholy was another way for inspiration into your soul. When I am melancholic, it means I am in this state of mind and at that emotional level where creativity, skill, and intuition are fully aligned, the Muse is nestled all around contentedly ready to whisper the words in my ears, and all I have to do is to just start writing.
But I didn’t realize that back at the time, and I ran away looking for distraction. It seemed to work, except that every time I did, I felt void expanding inside my chest, and with every time I grew sadder.
I turned into a wandering shadow; empty and constantly accompanied by a palpable austere sense of loss. Something breaks deep within when one doesn’t answer his calling and ignore the signs. Think about it this way; if you are not sitting in the right spot, you won’t be able to appreciate the scene. Same thing; I couldn’t relate to anything or enjoy anything until one day.. I decided am changing places; am not going to escape from my melancholy, I will listen to it and face it. I shall not break my pen ever again.
Sometimes inspiration is too intense; sometimes the muse is putting you under so much pressure, you feel like “That’s it, am quitting!” But you can’t. You didn’t choose to be a man of words in the first place, you were picked out by a much higher power, who knows that you have what it takes to be able to translate thoughts and ideas swimming out there in the cosmos into words that could change the lives of men.
If you choose to not accept your assignment, you will have to live with your sense of guilt. Yes! You will feel guilty, because out of the billions of people out there you were chosen to be among the missionary of writers. Each word you draft help reformulate human history a notch, even though you don’t feel it. It’s the butterfly effect as usual! It’s the power of words.
In the life of each one of us, there must have been a word that changed something. Bad or good, doesn’t matter! What matters is the fact that few letters have the ability to do this. It could be a verse you heard in a song, a line said in a movie, a wisdom from your folks or friends or a word written in a book or a blog on WordPress by a wanna-be anonymous writer.
All of this hit me on a dark silent night of the countless ones I spend ceiling-gazing (am an insomniac!). It was a moment of clarity and decision making; a moment when I gave in to melancholy, to the empowering emotional galvanization and succumbed to the Muse of writing.
I might not be famous; I might not be skilled, but I do know my words can make an impact …
So to the Muse of inspiration I say: “I shall accept thy gift. Now and always I shall be thy voice…and until death do us part!”