The Lost Realm

I went for a walk tonight. I used to walk the streets often, but over the last several months I seem to have forgotten the habit.

I like to walk around the neighbourhood. I enjoy seeing other people’s lives: their houses, their families, their warmth. Not every home glows, of course, but there are enough to make a long walk worthwhile. The new parents, walking close together pushing a sleeping baby. The father out playing with his children on the front lawn while his wife is inside enjoying a few moments peace. The child out on their new rollerblades, watched over from a distance. The old couple just sitting together in the quiet, letting the world that they know so well pass by.

The unknowing content of a family bound by love.

I just walk and absorb all of this. All of the lives that resemble that which I no longer possess. If I close my eyes and breathe deep enough, I can almost believe it is what I have spent my life searching for. Not the perfect house or the expensive car or the manicured lawn. Just a never-ending embrace that feels “home”.

Life is giving me too much to think about, but too few things I can write.

In the meantime, here’s the funniest blonde joke I’ve read in years.

Also, my cat just tried to steal one of my doughnuts.

That is all.

Normally I can drop into the zone and lose the world. My record for doing so is over 9 hours; completely focussed on a project, I didn’t look up from my monitor or notice the passage of time until someone bumped my chair. While this did result in sore legs, sore eyes, sore back, low blood sugars, and a very full bladder, I would gladly put up with these things again for my ability to focus.

But right now I am lacking that focus. I am missing my concentration. I am lost without my clarity of mind.

Incomplete lines of thought. Unknown quantities. Unmet desires. Ambiguous fragments. Uncertain conclusion.

And yet I would change it not.

I burn.

The fire engulfs,
but does not consume me.

I am the flames,
but they are not mine.

Yesterday someone asked me if I had a five-year plan, and I had to admit that I did not. “I used to have plans,” I said, “but none of them worked out.”

Last night, however, as I lay awake and unable to sleep, I realised that I have been planless for longer than that. Towards the end of my marriage, my muse ceased to inspire me.

Perhaps that makes no sense. Let me start from the beginning.

When I was younger, I had creativity and inspiration. I had great ideas about where I was going and what I wanted to do. This all stopped around the time of my first relationship. It wasn’t exactly a happy relationship and is a story that perhaps awaits a telling on another occasion, but something happened to me during it. My creativity and inspiration soared; I found new heights of my abilities.

I had a muse.

When that relationship vanished, my muse vanished with it. The problem was that, having had a muse to focus me, I was now lost. I stopped writing poetry. I stopped trying to write music. I stopped drawing and 3D rendering. I stopped writing games or other software. My research suffered.

Then I met Debs. She was a different muse, and led to different drives. Life often seemed more important than creativity, but I found creativity again all the same. My research improved, at least until life got in the way, and I started again to create. I wrote blogging software and screensavers. I designed webpages.

Towards the end of my marriage with Debs, life seemed to be coming together. My plans of a family and a house were completed well ahead of planned schedule.

And yet, I was lacking inspiration. I lost interest in photography. I only designed websites for other people. I had no interest in gardening. I had no drive and no plans. I should have seen this as a sign of things to come.

As I sit here, I realise that I have been without a true muse for a long time. I have not been inspired to create what I need to create. My soul has not been singing the right song.

The only question is, can I do this without a muse? Can I find my childhood creativity and drive again?

I’ve had enough of my silent soul. I think it’s time to find out.