The Muse and I - A Sacred Affair
I Think I Discovered My Muse
Today, I finally found words for the creative force that I’ve been in touch with for a while. She told me to write this piece.
- She is the voice that relentlessly urges me to pursue my creative ‘hobbies’
- She is the part of me that rolls her eyes when I fantasise about a new guy while trying to pull me back to her
- She is the wild force that I’m equally in love with and afraid of
I think she is the muse that people talk about.
This is how my relationship with her looks like.
How I Hear Her
Thanks to unemployment and my celibacy practice, I currently have tons of time and energy on my hands (though not so much money, yet).
To further strengthen the container for harnessing my creativity, I’ve been practicing:
- Staying off Instagram, my social media kryptonite. It’s been over a week since I last logged in, and even longer since I scrolled for more than ten minutes.
- Reducing messaging to a bare minimum and cutting draining social contacts to zero.
- Including spiritual hygiene and prayers as part of my daily rituals.
During this period, HER volume has turned up. She has been urging me to level up my blog, organise the mess and make myself more visible to the world.
With the noise of the world dialed down, my sensitivity is at a new all-time high. It adds new dimensions to the exploration of my creativity.
From emptiness & silence, an entire universe of stories, ideas and colours begins to emerge. It’s as if emptiness is never truly empty.
The subtle realms reveal themselves only in the absence of noise.
It’s like driving deep into nature at night and seeing the stars shine brighter than ever, freed from light pollution of the city.
The Ongoing Dance with Her
Merging with her feels like a slow, ecstatic death.
With a silent promise of rebirth.
A dance in the abyss.
She drags me into the underworld and introduces me to all of my demons.
‘If you look them in the eye without moving, they’ll disappear after a while’, she tells me, fire reflecting in her eyes, before she vanishes into the wild jungle.
Later, she returns with buried treasures from the depth of my unconscious and throws them on the ground in front of my bare feet.
‘Here, I collected some materials. Make something nice with them.’
She disappears again, and continues whispering instructions into my ear. She doesn’t leave me alone until I create something.
Merging with her feels like a torturous tease.
I don’t know if there will ever be a climax, while she penetrates my soul.
I’m so obsessed with her that stopping isn’t an option.
I would have never thought I would write lines like these.
Merging with my muse is the most erotic, sensual & intimate relationship I’ve known in my 29 years of existence.
It makes me question today: what does God mean to me?
My best (short-lived) orgasms pale in comparison to her high.
Her seductive energy drives me to fill daily pages of messy words and to pray for sanity & clarity.
My Surrender to Her
Now, she wants me to acknowledge her presence.
Her only interest lies in existing as the wild, untameable force that she is.
She has no intention of persuading, performing, proving, or selling.
She doesn’t give a shit if anyone watches.
She doesn’t like when I pressure her with questions or urgency.
She likes to pressure me with mysterious imagery and urgency.
She doesn’t care about what’s appropriate, or what I want.
She cares about liberation & transformation.
Because this is the very essence of all she is.
She shapes me into the artist I’m meant to be.
She guides me to the Wild Woman I’m meant to be.
Two months ago, I unknowingly committed myself fully to her by pouring all my energy into the creation of this temple.
Officially, I’m still job searching and have been applying for tech roles on the side over the past months. Every time I enthusiastically present my skills and praise the company’s vision, something in me dies.
How can I show up fully and invest time and energy for someone else’s vision, when MY vision consumes every corner of my consciousness? When MY vision feels like the only thing worth living for?
I’m betraying my muse.
‘I can’t stay at my parents’ place for too long. I can’t survive on unemployment money indefinitely. What about money?’, I ask her desperately.
She smiles.
‘You’re talking to the Goddess of Creation.’
That’s her.
Mysterious and ever flowing.
She reveals just enough for me to keep walking in the dark.
Just enough for me to keep coming back and begging for more of her.
from my morning pages, some weeks ago:
You’re learning energetic mastery.
Trust in that.
It’s all coming together.
read about another archetype: The Taoist Goddess