This marvelous thing we call inspiration…

Today is a special day because I feel inspired.

Inspiration is such a great sensation, isn’t it? It makes us happy, it makes us want to do more, be more, live more… Inspiration talks the language of our hearts, and it communicates perfectly well with our brains. Maybe that’s the reason why we feel so gracious when we feel inspired, and feeling inspired is what I want to talk about today.

I can never say when I’m going to feel inspired. I never see it coming, I can never perceive it beforehand. I just feel the touch of it the very moment it happens, and it always leaves a mark once it’s passed. It is probably one of the best sensations I have blessed to feel in my life and, as it usually happens with such great powers, I always hunger for more.

Along the whole day today, I’ve interacted with different people, and I can really say that at least three of them have contributed to my inspiration today: a pregnant friend, who looks more a more gorgeous as the due day approaches, and who looks at me in wonder when I tell her the stories of my day; an old friend, who is a free-thinker, a visionary and who inspires me every single time we speak just about anything; and then, last but not least, a powerful soul who fills my life with music and lyrics, and a person who makes me resonate with every single of those songs.

These are all important people to me in one way or another, and even though they are all very different amongst one another, they all achieve the same result: they inspire me with their hearts, their minds, their warmth, their ideas, their passions and their sole presence in my life.

Once you’ve been touched by the hand of inspiration, there’s no way back: it burns inside you, you have to let it flow. And letting it flow is a magical thing. It pours through you, you feel its power intoxicating your body, your mind, your soul. It’s somewhat alcoholic. Just enough inspiration running through your veins and all of those past, long-gone desires crawl back inside. It’s a double-edged sword. It impulses us, or it stings us. Or simply both.

Sometimes I feel so inspired that I don’t know what do to with it. Sometimes I write, sometimes I play piano. Sometimes I talk to people and inspire them, turning my own inspiration into a contagious disease. Sometimes I look up at the sky, or I stare in wonder at people on the street. Inspiration makes me behave, and it makes me act out at the same time.

So my question(s) usually is(are): what is it about inspiration that makes me feel like this. What does it give me, what does it take away from me? Why am I always -nearly desperately- looking for it? How can I retain it? What do I do when I have it? How do I let it flow and how do I control the madness of having it?

These are all questions which puzzle me. Inspiration is definitely one of my drugs. I always want more, but when I have it, I am never sure about what to do with it. I love it, I have it, I want it, but I also detest it. It aches in me, but I makes me happy at the same time.

Stay close, my friend, but stay away.