come together

if i have learned anything about writing, it is this, the muse comes to me when needed. mind you, when i say muse, i am not objectifying my creativity into some deity, i am simply acknowledging the sometimes seeming transient nature of that which i have come to love and breathe and draw my life from.

i go back and forth about diminishing the artist by virtue of calling creativity a muse, but sometimes, i just don't care. i do not feel, in the least bit diminished. and when she does, in fact, light upon me, it is as if she has returned and i welcome her. i always welcome her.

i cannot explain the curious events of these past weeks or even how my writing has evolved to a sort of mathematical complex which i am certain i can figure at any given time, provided the circumstances are right and the lighting is just so. that's not to say it is all so dependent on externals, it is to say, that sometimes i just know it will work, and sometimes i know it won't.

i trust. regardless of where it comes from or why. i trust.

i have made the distinction oft, that it is not in whom i trust, but that i trust. i am not, again, giving away my power, nor am i hoarding it, but i am willingly trusting. does it have to be in something. does it have to be objectified thus. i do not think so, at least, as far as i can, i try not to objectify it.

so what was it then, that i learned, the initial purpose of my writing, aside from killing time until dinner and keep my mind off my tumbling stomach.

my purpose was to state that it is coming together. and so many times, i am amazed. mind you, i am always amazed that i am amazed. my surprise is eminently surprising. so when i put off this paper or that paper, when i trust it to come together as it will, and when it does, i am humbly, and gratefully, amazed.