Inspiration
This week I struggled to find a subject to write about.
I took plenty of photographs, hoping one of them would spark an idea. That’s usually how these essays begin. One observation leads to another until something takes shape. This week, none of them led anywhere.
Every creative pursuit depends, at least in part, on inspiration. It comes and goes much like the clouds in the sky. Some days they're everywhere, constantly changing shape and giving your imagination something to grab onto. Other days the sky is completely blue, or covered by one flat sheet of gray, and nothing takes form.
I've noticed I feel the least inspired when my days are full but somehow unfulfilling. When I don't take time to go for a walk, read a few pages of a book, turn on music, have wandering conversations with my toddler, do something new, stop to smell the flowers, or do nothing for a while. I need time to slow down, notice my surroundings, experiment, and leave space in my mind for those clouds to gather.
Which leads to another question: Where do those clouds come from in the first place?
We like to think our thoughts belong entirely to us, yet the best ideas often feel more like discoveries than inventions. Some people describe this as a collective unconscious, a shared well of human thought. I think something deeper is at work. Some thoughts pull us toward what is good, true, and beautiful, while others don't. Maybe those moments of unexpected clarity are subtle promptings from the Holy Spirit.
I've experienced that while taking photographs. I'll begin with nothing more than an interesting patch of light or texture that catches my eye, and before long one idea connects with another. Several thoughts merge, and an ordinary photograph becomes something rich with meaning.
The sky is always changing. An idea appears, however small, and if I'm patient enough to sit with it, notice it, and nurture it, it grows into something I can bring into the world through a photograph, words, or another form of art.
As it turns out, this week's inspiration was right under my nose. I couldn't think of anything to write about until I realized that feeling uninspired had become the subject itself. I was waiting for the clouds to come, when all I really had to do was pay attention to the cloudless sky.
