The dance with the creative muse is a give and take—a love-hate relationship.
Mine is bossy and demanding. She tends to show up as a needy partner asking for attention at the most inconvenient times. Like a dependent cat meowing for food when I’m in the middle of something important, she screams louder as I get closer. Only when she starts eating is there a moment of silence.
My muse rebels against schedules and wants to dance in the flow. Moments of opportunity that drop out of nowhere, like the dawning of inspiration.
She likes to keep me awake at all hours of the night, because I’m finally still and quiet enough to listen.
“Ah, you’re available,” she says, as I’m telling myself I should really be getting some sleep.
Sometimes I try to avoid her, for a million different reasons, but mostly because it feels as if she is trying to interfere with my daily adult responsibilities.
What I’m realizing is that I’ve been afraid of her—her power, her whispers of truth, the connection I feel to a higher source. One that can not be described in words, but only felt as a deep resonance in the heart. One that realigns my cells, that calls on me to show up in my full potential.
Embracing my muse can be scary because she doesn’t follow logic. There is no plan, no goal or concrete outcome. She simply demands presence. She asks me to receive and listen, inviting me to witness her magic and join her in the dance.
When I respect her, she offers me the most precious gifts of insight: collective wisdom, higher truth and challenges for growth.
She slaps me in the face and pushes me to be better. She teaches me that when I offer her a container and safe space to express, she will give me a glimpse of my purpose—guiding me back to self-love and the mysteries of life.
My ego-self has an agenda and opinion about how to function in society. But my muse destroys my grasp of control.
She begs me to trust her. She says, “I see you. I need you. Please listen. Please love me.”
When I open to this love and transform struggle into embrace, she jumps for joy. She no longer nags me or screams, but slowly and succinctly offers me the ripe fruits of what I’m here to offer the world.
She is my greatest teacher and most powerful guide. A force who shows me my strength and holds me when I cry.
When I honor her words, I honor the deepest aspects of myself—the calling out of the chambers of darkness into the light.
We all have a connection to this creative force.
Are we listening?
Are we respecting her?
Are we giving her a space to dance free?
If you are wrestling with this relationship, I invite you to slow down for just a few minutes and listen to the whispers of your soul, your muse.
Let her take you to places you may never have explored.
Let her be of service to the world, with you as her dance partner.
Author: Devon Martin
Image: Courtesy of author; painting via Jeff Martin
Editor: Nicole Cameron
hot on elephant
Narcissistic Men & their Mothers. 2,060 shares How being an Empath can lead to Adrenal Fatigue, Insomnia & Exhaustion. 8,867 shares I Love You. I Want You. But I am Not Ready to Be with You. 2,942 shares The Day She Just Gave Up. 4,946 shares It’s not Sex Older Men want from Younger Women. 337 shares I want you at 3 a.m. 132 shares I Know what Fake Love looks Like. 511 shares New Ruling Allows Mother Wolves & Pups to be Killed on National Wildlife Refuges. 880 shares Answering these 5 Questions can help put us on our Right Life Path. 252 shares How to Fall out of Love like a Buddha. 810 shares