Where it all began...

Inspiration is when the soul is touched by a power unfelt, unexplored, unrealized. It is the feeling of taking flight, without the sight of what could possibly be your fate down below. Feeling your soul jump and rejoice and celebrate at the idea of possibility, is like feeling the sun shine on your back, warm and capturing. I often recall the first moment I was truly inspired. I was young, maybe only eight or nine. We were in the mountains at our family condo, one of my favorite places to spend time. It is a place nestled in the mountains, near a lake that sparkles under the sunshine and ripples under the wind of an afternoon thunderstorm. I sat near a creek alone waiting for my cousins to come outside. I was alone for no more than ten minutes, but my eyes were opened to a world I had never truly appreciated. The water was crisp as it raced past the rocks and stones, roadblocks in an otherwise seamless path. I remember thinking there was nothing more beautiful than the sound of streaming water, and nothing more captivating than the way the light reflected off the water. I felt the need to express my thoughts and my soul was bursting with words, phrases, pages of ideas that needed to be released. It was not something I could say or something I could explain to anyone but myself. I found a piece of paper and let my pen go. I was inspired. I realized what I needed to say to the world, and all I needed to express to those who couldn’t see it how I now could. My eyes had been opened, and I needed to open others’.

That is what inspiration is about. We find our own so that others may find theirs.

Many people inspire me. But the people who we have all studied like Emerson, Thoreau and such are not nearly as important as those who personally affect our lives. I am inspired by the person who sees people for who they truly are and what they can be. I seek to find those who embrace the wonders of the world without attempting to alter them. They treat this place we are blessed with as a work of art to be appreciated, not an ongoing project to be changed. Have you ever lost yourself in nature? In its almost unbearable beauty? Have you explained to someone what you found when you were searching for nothing? If so, you have most likely inspired someone. In some great instances, inspiration can come from within one’s self. I once found a book I had written in when I was younger, when I had just begun writing. Re-reading it ten years later was like opening a forgotten place inside me, a treasure locked away for years. My words did not seem to be my own, but rather another person entirely. It took me pondering such thoughts for days to discover why I could no longer recognize my own hand, my own thoughts on paper. Why? I continued to ask myself. But it was a simple answer; people change. I am no longer the person I was ten years ago, or even yesterday. As the sun rises we are born anew, each day to be thought of as exploration and adventure. Inspiration stems from this search, this invigorating plunge into the unknown. I was unable to recognize my writing because I had changed. I continue to write, and I continue to change, and I continue to be inspired. By nature, by people, and by myself.