Writing...

...for writing's sake. I don't know what to write about because I'm waiting for inspiration. Have I got a flawed idea about how these things works? Is inspiration something that just genuinely pops out of nowhere or is it a result of honing a skill so that it comes more often than not? I feel like I sit around waiting for inspiration to just fall upon me...but I don't think it works like that. That's just laziness. One has to practice and accept the shit that comes out because sometimes floating around in the masses of rubbish, you can find a gem.

At the symbolic heart of a human is some kind of creative source, some unnameable essence that is somehow pure and infinite. I know that sounds abstract and suspiciously new-age (if you knew me you'd know that that is not that suspicious) but really I'm just talking about the feelings of inspiration and joy and how when one is firmly rooted within them, there are no words, quantitative or qualitative enough to truly describe and share that experience. It's so subjective and yet so easily shared and commonly understood at an intuitive level. All these words, concepts and ideas serve the purpose of intellectuality, perhaps positively for the purpose of education but simultaneously can be divisive and move us away from that natural centre of living consciously and in the moment.