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.