Muse Hymn Box
Stephanie Hansen, struggles to identify her muse
It's time to admit it out loud: if I have a Muse, he/she/it remains anonymous. Unless we're talking about God. Don't go nuts...I don't in any way refer here to a religious god, but to a sort of spiritual beacon of light that cares for and encourages me to go in the direction of love and light...and laughter. Even after years of a living awareness of this spirit-mate, I have no clear picture or name, although for various reasons in the beginning of my spiritual journey I chose the name Friend.
What I would love to hear are everyone's stories of moments of coincidence or kindness or fantastic folly when y'all knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was indeed a god of some sort, and that that god/Soulkeeper/spiritual guide (the titles are endless) is involved with your life. Personally, I have a treasure trove of moments I would like to write about when I knew for certain that there is a soul-mate somewhere watching over me - because I heard the distant laughter!
When I prostrate myself before the altar of my invisible, silent Muse, my silly affectations are met with silence. When I make melodramatic gestures to cull favour with my spiritual guide, I'm met with laughter. I much prefer laughter. For years I had glued onto the face of my fridge the words, "If you want to make god laugh, make demands, and then stand very, very still so you can hear the sound of the hand slapping the knee while 'he' roars."
To tell you the truth, seeing as it's glued there, it probably is *still* on the front of that particular appliance...of course, I no longer live in that apartment... If you're not interested in sharing the hilarious heavenly highlights of our lives, I wonder how much we can find out about each other by what we've had loitering on our fridges over the years... I know I can just go ahead on my lonely own and write all these stories down in a private journal, but I'm finding out I have a lot more fun "telling stories" than I do "writing stories".
Does that make any sense? When I know I'm writing to you lovely interesting people, I can easily hear my 'voice' when I write. When I write first, thinking of where I might send it after, I have to work very, very hard to hear my true voice, and in the end so bloody much of it still ends up sounding wooden and affected. Writing for the Feeding the Muse and the Soul Food friends is easy and deeply refreshing. Nothing's polished; I just throw the rough drafts at y'all, but - for the first time in a long time - I fear the responses or lack thereof not at all. I haven't yet written about the kind of spiritual stuff I've proposed to you, and I'm sincerely curious to see where it takes me...and us.
Heather Blakey asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work