Have you ever stopped to wonder what your muse and kangaroos have in common? No? Well, let me enlighten you. I promise you'll never look at your muse the same way again.
Baby kangaroo, Donmike10, Wikimedia Commons |
Muse's then grow into their teen years, full of attitude and spunk. They think themselves indestructable, just like human, and I'm sure, kangaroo teens. They want to strike out on their own and may desert you without any notice, hopping off across the land, possibly going for a long walkabout leaving you hanging. If your muse deserts you, remember it's not the end of the world. Refer to a previous posting, Creativity: Secrets Your Muse Doesn't Want You to Know to get yourself back in the writing game.
Lazy Kangaroo, kathatp, sxc.hu |
Kangaroos pack a lot of punch in their kick if they get angry. A muse can also pack a punch, but luckily for us, we won't be killed since they don't physically hit us. The wallop we get is the urge to write like we've never written before. The words flowing non-stop from our fingers and brains so fast we can barely keep up. This in itself can be thoroughly exhausting and leave us feeling drained. I know when this has happened to me, it also leaves you feeling proud and satisfied at what I accomplished with the help of my muse. Learn to love the muse's kick.
Even adult muse's will take off on a walkabout every now and then and call it a vacation. Refer back to the above creativity posting if this happens. Just because they're adults doesn't mean they'll give you any advance notice of this time off. Some are thoughtful and will, while others just...poof! off into the ether. You'll survive these periods if you remain calm.
Kangaroos and muse's go through the stages of life together, dwelling on different planes, but yet have things in common. Always be prepared for any stage of development. You'll survive and thrive the turbulent toddler years into the joyous, or not so joyous, stage of adulthood.
1 comments:
You have a good point there, love the analogy. I find when my muse goes walkabout that all I need to do is to write about not having anything to write about, and before I know it I am prattling on and on and have either an article or a long poem.
My muse then usually returns for some reason, maybe to silence my inner poet.
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