dating

Dating the muse

Imagine someone asks you out on a date and you agree to go. So they make a reservation at a nice restaurant and you both make plans to meet there. 

As the day approaches, you get offered a ticket to go see your favorite sports team in the championship game, but it’s on the same night as your date. Conflicted, but not wanting to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity, you call up your date and ask to reschedule, explaining the situation. They understand and change the reservations to another day that works for both of you. 

You have every intention of going on the date, but again, something comes up. This time, an emergency comes up at your job. You are needed there. Once again, you call up your date and explain the situation. They are a little less understanding this time, but agree to give you another chance and so they once again change the reservation to another day that works for both of you. 

Again, you have every intention of going on the date. But something else comes up.

How many times do you think this can happen before the other person stops taking you seriously? How many times can you not show up before they stop wanting to be with you? How many times can you stand someone up before it is obvious that they are not a priority and they move on? 

Now imagine the person asking you out on a date is your creative inspiration, the muse if you will. You say you want to be creative. You say you want to make art. You claim to want to be taken seriously and to be able to make a living with your creative work. But your actions say otherwise. 

How many times can you ignore inspiration before it starts ignoring you? How many times can you choose something else over your creative work before your creative work has had enough of you? How many times can you stand up the muse before it goes elsewhere and leaves you to that which you consistently choose over your art? 

Set aside time to make do you creative work. Choose a time and a place and show up. Show up consistently. Take your art as seriously as you want it to take you. You are not promised inspiration. The muse owes you nothing. Form a relationship with your creative work. Be attentive to it, nurture it, and care for it. 

Treat your art like you would treat a loved one. Better yet, treat your art like you would like to be treated by a loved one. If you take it seriously, if you show up for it and care for it, your art will always be there for you, but don’t take it for granted. Don’t make it wait. The muse is a jealous lover. 

Far from innocence

When my wife and I were dating, we would talk on the phone for hours every night about everything and nothing. She would whisper from beneath the blankets in her makeshift room in the basement of her cousin’s home, trying to be quiet so that she didn’t wake up her niece and aunt with whom she shared the space. I would whisper back because, the house I lived in was so old and the insulation so non-existent, the neighbor upstairs and I could hear every word the other one said. 

We would often talk for so long that one or both of us would fall asleep on the phone. Not wanting the conversation to end, neither of us wanted to be the first to say goodbye. Having to hang up felt excruciating. It felt like we were being pulled apart, never to speak again. She was the last thing I thought about as I went to sleep and the first thing I thought about when I woke up the next morning. 

Even though I was thirty years old and she was twenty five, this experience made me feel so young and alive, like I was a teenager again discovering love for the first time. There was something truly magical about this time and, even thinking about it now brings a smile to my face. It was innocent and beautiful. We laughed a lot. 

She being from Cambodia and me from the United States, we sometimes had difficulty understanding one another. Her English was not bad by any means, but she didn’t always have the right word or the correct pronunciation for what she wanted to say and my Khmer was way worse than her English. So we would often have to spell words to each other in order to understand what the other was saying. We tried so hard to understand each other. There was so much patience, graciousness, and kindness in those conversations. 

I miss that time, those experiences, and the people we were back then. Writing this, I am reminded of how far we have come together, but also how far away from that innocence we have gotten. It’s bittersweet. It makes me want to do better, to be better for her, for myself, and for us.