It’s autumn in Australia. All the perfect green leaves are rusting into their shades of red, planning their escape with the wind. The wind, that’s been egging them on to run free and chase their dreams. The wind, whispering promises of sunshine and happiness: “If only you just let go.”
But all the leaves do is fall flat. Fall flat onto the concrete ground. But sometimes, if they’re lucky, the wind picks them up, caresses their injuries, and gives them the time of their life.
Inspiration is the wind in my life. Sometimes it’s like a hurricane, demanding attention from me and blowing me over until I channel it into something. Sometimes it’s like a whispering breeze, bringing me small relief on stagnant, muggy days. When all I want to do is to do nothing, it hustles me along quietly.
But most of the time, I am like an autumn leaf that was promised happiness, only to be left lying face-down in defeat. But as I lay lying in the rut of writer’s block and lack of creativity, I realized that I’d been listening to inspiration, but I hadn’t been hearing what inspiration had to say. Inspiration doesn’t make you promises of happiness, inspiration makes you promises of adventure.
Inspiration says, “I’ve got this really cool thing I wanna try, wanna do it?” And if you say yes, and even if it turns out to be a big mess, inspiration gets amnesia and turns back to you and says, “That was pretty fun, want to try something else?” Adventure doesn’t necessarily bring about happiness. However, if you have the right mindset, adventure and inspiration can add tons of meaning to your life.
So, if I give inspiration an ultimatum: ‘Bring happiness to my life or get out‘, chances are, inspiration is going to get out. And I’ll just stay stuck in my rut.
Therefore, I have decided to let go. I’m falling from my safety branch of perfection, but I’m going to trust that inspiration is going to pick me up, dust me off, and bring me on an undescribable-y exciting adventure. I’m going to write, even if it’s not perfect. I’m going to draw, even if I don’t know what I’m drawing yet. I’m going to speak, even if I don’t fully understand.
I’m not going to neglect the art I’m best at: the art of channeling inspiration, because of the chance of failure.I am going to create, not in spite of, but because I am imperfect. I’ve always loved the messy imperfection of dying leaves more anyway.