Whilst working on the creativity session planning schedule and building up the workbook, I came across a curious response from people when I asked, “What inspires you?”

The section of the workbook is about revving the creative engine, and sometimes we need to “borrow” inspiration from other areas of our lives in order to jump-start a creative spark. Testing the hunch, I’ve been randomly asking people what inspires them.

I was shocked to realize how many people don’t know how to answer that question. It’s a fairly simple question, but it stumps a lot of people. Picking at this curious thread it began to unravel, as I asked people what they think inspiration IS.

Nearly everyone agrees that inspiration is a force that compels, motivates, uplifts, and elevates our responses and actions in some way. It kicks thoughts, beliefs and ideas up a notch, as it were.
But when I ask why they can’t think of anything that inspires them, there’s a gap between the daily inspirations, the long-term aspirations, the profound epiphanies, and the what they would classify as “inspiring”.

Ah.

When I ask “What inspires you?” Most people think I’m asking for some iconic emblem of human achievement or sacrifice; Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr., veteran war heroes, powerful examples of leadership, a moving book/movie/story, and so on. Those people and things are inspiring, yes, I agree. (interestingly, most people answer the question with the name of a human being: an actual person or that person’s life is inspiring = people can be enormously powerful inspirational catalysts)

But on a day to day level of your own life, does the story of human compassion and sacrifice of mother Teresa get you out of bed and moving through your day?

Separating the inspiration of the lives, actions, and achievements of others, from the microcosm of your “day in and day out” experience in order to find smaller, consistent, accessible inspirational fuels is the goal of the creativity workbooks and sessions. I realized I’m going to have to re-word some sections, and add definitions to some categories in order to make some distinctions in how people are referring to their daily inspirational fuels.

It turned out to be an important discovery for many reasons. Not just for my work in creativity coaching and boosting, but in my writing as well.  I am writing the story of the Muses. The inspirations, or pillars of our cultural systems.

​In the fantasy genre you can speak both literally and figuratively about reality through a filter of fantastical possibility. I channel conversations about inspiration, creativity, social structure and culture through the modernized mythological Muses. My fictional Muses support the inspirations from which our cultures are founded: arts, science, law, language, story, movement, performance, history, mathematics, and so on.

Realizing the common way inspiration is perceived and spoken about has made me realize I have tuning to do in my fictional series, and in my workbooks. 

Instead of asking, “What inspires you?” I’ll ask:
What stimulates your curiosity?
What do you find yourself daydreaming about repeatedly?
Who or what offers a touchstone to keep your personal creative energy charged?
What do you see/hear or interact with that consistently makes you feel awe?
 
These questions may not be easier to answer at first, but they will separate the classifications of inspiration out into smaller pieces for easier dialog. 

What stimulates your curiosity?
History. New culinary experiences. Music. Genetics. Quantum theory. Setting difficult challenges for myself. Foreign cultures. Contrasting ideas. Geology. Archaeology. Theology. Foreign languages. Architecture. Wine and whisky. Human innovation. Agriculture.
What do you find yourself daydreaming about repeatedly?
Travel. Castles. Venice. Flying. Building fun projects. A finished studio. Restaurants I want to try. Meeting like minds. Travel. New chapters to write. New horizons to explore. Partnership. Dancing. Travel.
Who or what offers a touchstone to keep your personal creative energy charged?
Hanging out with other creatives. Going to a good movie, well produced. Discovering a new culinary dish. Trying out a new art or craft technique. Actors/Actresses whose works move me. Musical performances that elevate my mood or speak to my needs. Fresh flowers. Reading well told stories. Sitting by the river. Authors/storytellers I trust and respond to, again and again. Pinterest. Cookbooks. Youtube videos for projects. Walking through the craft store or hardware store for ideas. Waterhouse. Illustrators. Painters. Lyrics. The library.
What do you see/hear or interact with that consistently makes you feel awe?
The forest. The St. John’s Bridge in North Portland. My animals. Good books. Phenomenal cooking. Amazing acting performances. Great sex. Live music. The ocean. Violins. Cellos. Pianos. Excellent whisky. Libraries and bookstores. Lightning storms. Calving glaciers. Thunder. Alaska. Mountains. Bold color schemes. Architecture. People overcoming challenges. Random acts of kindness. Flowers.

From the crossover in my answers I can say that nature, culture, music, art, foods, and people inspire me.

There are more common threads to pick out. I’ll do the work on overlap and start patterning in order to find a way to make the workbook and the creativity sessions have a higher payout productively. Still, is seemed like a minor breakthrough and worth mentioning on the blog. In the meantime, how do YOU answer these questions:

What stimulates your curiosity?
What do you find yourself daydreaming about repeatedly?
Who or what offers a touchstone to keep your personal creative energy charged?
What do you see/hear or interact with that consistently makes you feel awe?

Well, there are some new additions to the family.

I haven’t really thought of myself as a cat person, but now I have bee hive, two cats, a dog, six baby ducklings, five grown chickens, and two tiny baby chicks. One more animal in the mix seems to tip the scale from a “perfectly reasonable cottagestead working farm” to a “ridiculous menagerie”.

It all started two weeks ag when my friend, Liz from Mother Spruce Farms, gave me a herd of baby ducklings. She knew I’d tried to hard to get ducks and keep them alive last year, and her ducks had hatched a passel of more than a dozen little quackers. I can’t even tell you how delighted I was to pick up baby ducks. SO EXCITED!

Turns out, they don’t like to be picked up as much as I like picking them up. Though they’re little fluffy balls with feet, they are not huge fans of public displays of affection. So sad. Nor do they like to stand still for portraits. As soon as I pull the phone or camera out, they’re running for cover.

​Since I knew I was going to have to go through brood stage again, the stinky, messy brooding of tiny fowl—I went and picked up two more baby chickens at the feed store. Andalusian baby blues. I’m pretty sure one will turn out to be a rooster, and that’s okay with me. Anywhoo, since I knew I’d be brooding ducks, it seemed a good time to add two more chickens and just get the brooding all over with at the same time. 

A week ago, I looked at six ducks and two chickens brooding in my guest bathroom and thought, “Oh, my god, Athena. No more animals. Stop.” I sighed, “I already give away eggs, and the chicken coop needs to be re-built. Stop. Just stop.”

Then this week, a car threw a bag of kittens out the window down the road. What the fuck? I didn’t know that was an actual thing. There’s a special place in hell for people who are that cruel.

​Some of the kittens didn’t survive. It happened in front of my co-worker’s house. She rescued Pandora, and put the call out on social media for a re-homing emergency. Suddenly, I found myself with a new kitten. 

She’s underweight, but healthy. She’s a snuggly little purring machine, but she still has trauma responses. When she wakes up and has forgotten where she is, she screeches and runs under the couch, shivering. Then slowly, she recalls she safe and creeps back out for food and cuddles. She runs and hides when the refrigerator kicks on, or the dishwasher runs. Anything that sounds like a motor is terrifying—understandably. She is just barely able to eat solid food, so she’s eating a mix of kitten kibble and soft mush. She figured out the litter box in just a couple of days. She’s gaining weight and is becoming a curious, happy little minx.

Buttercup is not amused. My chihuahua is thirteen years old, and has played surrogate mom to many animals. She’s not a fan of the cats. Though she tolerates Pandora rubbing against her, and crawling in her bed to sleep on Buttercup’s legs, she’s not enjoying it. Every time I look over to see if they’re surviving the transition, Buttercup has a kitten stretched out over her favorite blanket. Buttercups sighs and yawns speak volumes. If she could roll her eyes at me, she would.

Yes, what have I done. One more animal seemed to throw the whole system off tilt for a bit. We will adjust. Pandora is a little ball of love. We will make it work.

I hope to have a builder come help me re-do the coop in July. We’ll be expanding the fencing to allow for a significantly larger space, and a second nesting shed as well as a tub for the ducks that will drain into the garden.

​So begins another season of garden and farming. My little cottagestead is patchworked, but full of love. Between a new book project, the budding fruits on the apple trees, and the small zoo in the works—The Elder Glade is turning into a little summer paradise.