Inspiration falls like rain, and sometimes I am made of umbrellas. The umbrella of sleep, the umbrella of Netflix, the umbrella of noisy...
Inspiration falls like rain, and sometimes I am made of umbrellas. The umbrella of sleep, the umbrella of Netflix, the umbrella of noisy thoughts. But sometimes I stretch myself out on the metaphorical grass and let it fall, let it soak into me bone-deep.
This is when the words come.
And they don't always make sense. And I don't always know where they go or who's meant to say them, think them, and feel them. Sometimes they're for stories that haven't been born yet, or for stories I thought had gone to sleep.
Something raindrops and inspiration showers have in common is that there's no earthly way to catch them all. The ground is hungry and devours words and stories that could have been mine if only I'd had enough room, enough cleverness, enough sense to WRITE THINGS DOWN.
My life is a graveyard of lost ideas, but fertile ground for the found ones.
I'm feeling grateful for inspiration today. For words that I get to call mine just because I'm the one who managed to catch them. And I'm grateful for nudges from metaphorical elbows, for gentle proddings in right and happy-making directions.
What words are you grateful for today?
About author: Kimberly VanderHorst
Kimberly Vanderhorst wrote her first book when she was seven (it was totally awesome, but the world isn't ready for it yet), and her next when she was twenty-seven. When asked to account for the intervening decades, she likes to suggest the possibility of alien abduction with as straight a face as possible.