Thankful for my muse

My muse was elusive...

There are many types of people in this world. When I was a kiddo, I used to get so upset with myself that my interests weren't seen as valuable to this world, at least monetarily. I remember in elementary school, one of my teachers actually told me to pay more attention to english and art, because boys were just better at math and science. While I'm sure I internalized this on some level, I have certainly felt an affinity to creative subjects since (I imagine) my first breath. My interests have not always correlated with natural talent. I love music, but creating it took so much time and effort, that my focus waned. Art is a passion of mine, but representational depictions of images weren't in my skillset. I prefered stylized or abstract work. Again, not seen as valuable among popular culture in the art world. But writing? Yes please. As a young girl, I felt connected to characters like Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables), Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House on the Prairie), and Jo March (Little Women). All writers, and powerful role models. My dad bought me a turquoise typewriter from an auction or garage sale. I pecked out my perception of creativity over crumpled pages, becoming more and more frustrated with a marked lack of original material. My muse was elusive and a seemingly fictional phenomenon. 

She finally sprinkled me with her magic during my high school years in response to my blooming music interests and life experience. I was in advanced creative writing, and found myself submerged in a "zone" of sorts for hours without pause. There were times when I felt possessed by a power greater than myself, finding words, metaphors and correlations that were not accessible under ordinary circumstances. It was as close to a high, that a high can get without illicit substances to facilitate said creativity. Since I was drawn to the more creative and dramatic arts, I found like-minded tribes-folk that filled my free space. These colorful souls were also blessed with talents that were more visible than my own. I started to shrink. For years I neglected my muse, as to not distract from others' talents. I've got that social worker heart, happy to sacrifice personal attention, to lift up someone else. The only problem with that is the muse starts to knock, demand, and burst out at inopportune times. If she's ignored, God save you. Depression lurks and consumes. Inauthenticity is fatal. 

Honour the muse. When she comes, she is serious. And she’s not coming back if you don’t keep inviting her in when she knocks. - Danielle LaPorte

In college, she was fed semi-adequately with periodic assignments that lit a fire, others simply endured. I accessed her as needed, but gave her scraps. She was itching to do more- energy gestating with such great intentions, that identifying an adequate outlet was nearing futility. Art, collage, journaling exclamations, therapeutic tools, nothing quenched her thirst. Until Audrey's Peace of Mind. This blog was created to help as many people as possible by accessing insights and reflections about mental health and emotional wellness through my seasoned lense. Since publishing, my muse hasn't slept. She is plotting and scheming during my wakeful hours, or sleep. She demands attention at work, while driving, making dinner, during patient sessions, she is a persistent sprite. 

Surround myself in twinkle lights...

Today I honor Gratitude Tuesday with a thank you note to my muse:

Dearest Muse,

Thank you for your place in my universe.  I rely on you daily to show up and take flight with my words in print. You never let me down. While at times I've had to wrangle you with repeated playlists filled with Fleetwood Mac and surround myself in twinkle lights, you come running when summoned. I appreciate every 30 page paper you composed in grad school, greeting card blurb, and expression of rage with charcoal. You remain a constant, however demanding. I respect your needs and commit to providing you with a platform from which to evolve and thrive indefinitely. Thank you for the opportunity to grow, purge, and express in a world that oftentimes leaves my empathic heart depleted. May you know your value in my world, and shower me with chills in silent affirmation with each click- publish.

What are you thankful for? Happy Gratitude Tuesday.

AM