Inspiration?

I used to think there were geniuses out there in the world. You know the brilliant first guy who really believed we could fly. Or the first woman who imagined she could vote. You know - the Steve Jobs of the world.

As I grew, I worked really hard to have my epiphany, to come to my one world changing idea or creation, the one everyone would remember me for. Surely I was meant to have at least one moment of pure genius in my life.

Then I decided I had lots of original thoughts, just not ones big enough to set the world on fire. Surely my perspective on or use of some obscure craft product was original. I had to be the only one in the world who could make gift wrap out of left over toilet paper roles, right?

Now? Now I've glommed onto the completely unoriginal excuse to reinvent, reappropriate and reinterpret everything around me and take credit for it that goes, "There's nothing new in the world, just a new way to use/present/purpose the same old stuff." It's distasteful even to type it, but it sure takes all that spark of genius pressure off of me.

This post is the direct result of that kind of inspiration, not of the divine nature, but of the contextual type.

Four years ago, I had the itch to blog, to put down all the bizarre and, occassionally original or so I thought, things rolling around in my head. And, like so many hobbies I've loved, I created my blog... and never wrote a single post.

Not a single post.

Until today. Today a dear friend emailed me a link to her blog post. And after reading it, I was in tears. The story she told, I knew. And I certainly had already come to the point of her post on my own years ago. But her words, her perspective on a story I'd heard and never been brought to tears by before, moved me. I shared her story, not because her thought was original in all of the world, but because it was beautiful.

http://conniemcleod.wordpress.com/2012/10/06/soul-mates-and-angels/

So, the grammar is terrible - I'll get around to fixing that. The only thing I am sure of is the title of this thing, whatever it's going to be, is still appropriate. And after reading Connie's post, and wiping my tears and snotty nose, the only thing that felt right was to give her credit for inspiring me to write something down. To be inspired by her inspiration.

I'm not committing to consistency, or even grammatical correctness. I don't know if I'll be inspired to write a single nother word after today. But hey, who couldn't love a blog you only had to commit to reading once every four years?