My thoughts bog me down. My worries become a stronghold. My “to do” list becomes a tyrant. And in the midst of it all, I tell myself a lie: there’s no time for inspiration. There’s no time to sit. No time to write. No time to read. No time to play my guitar. No time to meditate or pray.
I am really good at working the perpetual state of “go-go-go.” I think we all are because that’s the lives we’re living. But what if we’re wrong? What if this rat race is the lie?
But, the bottom line is: there is time for inspiration. It’s all around us. We just have to make time for it. I wish it were as easy as penciling it in:
Monday 5:00-7:00 p.m. meet Inspiration at the park
or Sunday 7:15-8:00 p.m. curl up with Inspiration
But then again, what if it were that easy? Life is merely time, isn’t it? So if that’s all it is, then why don’t we start making time to live life? What can’t we find some time for inspiration in every day? We’re good at making time for everything else...
Maybe what inspires you is different from me, but what matters is that we move time for ourselves to the top of the “to do” list. What are the things that make you feel alive? What makes you sigh deeply with satisfaction? Is it reading to your small child? Running solo as the sun sets over the orange sky? Working at a soup kitchen? Figure it out (like I am), and pencil in some time for yourself to get inspired.
When we’re inspired we operate at our highest forms of ourselves. We are light. We are air. We are dynamic. And when we are full of life and inspiration, people take notice. We draw others to ourselves because we are in balance. Life’s joys expand.
So turn off the television. Shut off the computer. Let the “to do” list wait. Let’s make it a point to be inspired every day. Let’s pencil it in, as funny as that sounds…
This week, let inspiration be your new priority.
Let the light in. Let your life become an art form.
Below is a beautiful poem submitted by one or our readers. It's spiritual and incredibly inspiring. Please enjoy this piece and feel warmly encouraged to submit your writing or poetry to TheUniversalSoul@hotmail.com.
“Imagine” By Lauren Madsen
Here I find myself basking in the aesthetics of my mind’s playground: Dreamland
I doodle with my thoughts on the sketchpad of my imagination.
I'm contemplating in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me penetrates my soul With ravenous eyes seeking out the optimism in life’s creations.
Confide in me your secrets and let the wind whisk them away in a graceful bliss.
I float along in this celestial slice of heaven. Angels nurture my emotions and guide me on this path to self actualization.
The chirping of the birds ignites a hungry fire ablaze in my heart.
I am a butterfly fluttering around in this ubiquitous concept on conformity. We are all pieces that mold together to create this mundane society.
I learn to adapt by persevering through whatever maelstrom of trials life thrusts at me. This undulating stream of hopes and dreams drowns me in revelry of happiness.
The rustling of the leaves serenades me like the strings of a guitar.
Listen to the sweet melancholy in this peaceful calm.
Today, a little girl was born and an old woman waited at the steps of Heaven.
At just after midnight, the message came: one of my best friends was in labor. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl just after 5:00 a.m. this morning. Madison Therese. Beautiful.
Then, just after noon today, another message came. My mother called to tell me that our dear elderly friend at her church was finally losing her arduous battle to COPD. Ann. Beautiful Ann.
So today, I cried. Tears of joy and sorrow too. And I thought, "And this is life..."THIS, my friend, is life. In one minute, a child is born into the world. Pink, innocent expectations. And in the next, someone is leaving it, slipping away like the last seconds of night.
Life. It’s a bittersweet coming and going. It’s poetic in its very makings. We are tugged one way, and then pulled the other. We laugh so hard that it hurts. Then we hurt so hard we have to laugh. Sometimes the happiness is so abundant and all-consuming that anguish feels like impossibility. Then sometimes the pain is so gut-wrenching we feel like we’ll never leave the valley of grief.
Ying and yang. Ups and downs. Inside-out and outside-in.
But this is life. Whatever it is. Whatever it is not.
There’s something so much more epic and mysterious than I can intellectualize about today’s happenings. It's so much bigger than me. But what I can take away from it is that perhaps the beauty Ann radiated will be funneled through Baby Madison. Maybe that’s the cycle of the Universe. The doings of God.