Finding Inspiration Where You Need It, Looming Messages from the Outside World

Typewriter in an Apple Tree

Finding Inspiration Where You Need It

Have you been finding yourself, amidst the stress of the news reports and quarantine and coronavirus and mask debates, exhausted, unable to even think about writing or even worse, sending out your writing? Because I have been right there with you this week, my friend. I have been depressed, anxious. I woke up crying one morning. I’ve been sick – nothing new, but this bug has been tough to shake, and the treatment for it is chock-full of unpleasant side effects. Not to complain – I’ve probably been sicker – but it has just been one of those weeks. And on Facebook, friends posting about surgeries, chemo, losing loved ones – it should put things in perspective, but it just feels like misery overload.

In isolation, in pain, in illness, in loss, in misery – are we capable of finding the inspiration where we need it?

This is why I took this incongruous picture of the typewriter in the apple tree – are we looking for the unexpected to jar us awake?

My back porch, in bloom: view from my bedroom

Where do you find inspiration? I often look to nature – though I’m not often thought of as a nature poet. Here’s the view from my bedroom, complete with birdfeeders, phlox, roses, sunflowers, dahlias, and probably some other flowers.

I sometimes find inspiration in conversations with friends and family, sometimes from books, sometimes from music or television. I also consider these forms of consolation, in times of need. Our routine and regular support systems have been disrupted. Previous sources of inspiration: going to galleries or museums, travel, concerts, get-togethers with friends – if you are immune compromised like me or someone in your family is, seem as infeasible as walks on the moon. So you, like me, may spend more time gardening, reading, watching movies, on the phone with your family and friends. I spend more time noticing small changes in the season, the different birds who visit with us. Photography for me is a way of noticing. This summer has been pretty mild, so I spend time sitting on my back porch, jut observing, watching bees on lavender, woodpeckers bobbing, hummingbirds buzzing around each other, the occasional hot air balloon. Those who are lucky enough to live close to water drive to the ocean, or the lake, some drive to the mountains. I’ve stayed close to home by necessity, but my home has plenty of opportunity for discover – a  tiny nanobunny when I go to water the lavender plants, an immature finch on the sunflowers.

Anna’s Hummingbird, seated

Messages from the Outside World Loom Larger

Don’t messages from the outside world loom larger these days? A Zoom meeting with a doctor, an e-mail rejection in your in-box, real-life physical mail? Though our current evil president and his goons are trying to throttle the post office right when most of us are relying on it more than usual, a surprise in the mail – or a surprise package from a loved one – can delight us more than usual. In Washington State, we even vote my mail. (And no, we do not have record problems with fraud.)

These little messages from the outside world can hold more portent than they might have a few months ago. This can mean a rejection has more impact, or that a postcard can carry more weight. I’m trying to avoid using Facebook (because of their ethical decisions and misinformation problems, along with thinking it might be detrimental for mental health in a way Instagram and Twitter are not) so I end up spending more time in the physical world.  Physical objects like books and magazines get more attention, and I want them to be beautiful and encouraging. I being in spring-scented sweet peas in a jar, cut dahlias in cases around the house, the occasional rose in a bud case. There is some mythology that hummingbirds were messengers from the gods. If so, I hope they bring good news. We could use it.

I’m also trying to support the businesses I love (and want to survive) with e-commerce as much as possible, whether that’s buying a dress or a book or a box of produce from my local farmer’s stands (here’s a link to 21 Acres, my favorite in  Woodinville, and Tonnemaker Farm stand, which also has a beautiful u-pick garden). I also want to support visual artists and other writers when I can. I’m not wealthy, but I feel like coughing up a few dollars for a literary magazine subscription or someone’s new book might help keep artists and publishers alive, and maybe deliver that hopeful or positive note that someone might need.

Because I am a writer with two poetry manuscripts circulating, waiting for good news on either one is a kind of excruciating hobby. I agonize over title and organization, whether to include new poems, whether to take out old ones. I feel like putting time towards writing and revising is at least a positive place to put some of my frustrated, homebound energies. I wish I had a big “yes” from the universe right now, from a dream publisher. I hope I get over this superbug soon so I can get a little way back to “normal.”

I hope you have good news in the e-mail inbox or the post office too. I hope your messengers from the universe will be kind.