Themeattics

She burns like the sun // and I can’t look away // and she’ll burn our horizons // make no mistake.

Muse, Sunburn

Back when I was first mulling the idea of creating this site, this article was the first I conceived and was planned to be the first put one published post-launch. It’s about the dangers of our reliance on motivation over discipline and how easily we fall victim to giving up on what is right for us because we simply don’t feel “in the mood” for the right thing. Now, it turns out, this will be the eighth article on the site. The irony of letting it be usurped by stronger whims seven times is not lost on me, but I do think it will help steer what I have to say and soften the edges a bit. Yes, I let the Muses win. No, doing so did not lead to my failure. Anyway, that’s enough of the long-winded anecdote, let’s get to the actual premise, shall we?

For concepts as universally understood as the Muses, it’s interesting both how little they appear in ancient writings and how varied the references are. Depending on the region, the names and numbers of the Muses varied, as did the story of their origin and their associations. Whether there were three, seven, or nine; whether they were the children of Zeus and Mnemosyne or Harmonia, or Uranus and Gaea, a few common threads bound each rendition. The Muses were powerful influencers of specific actions, and they were terribly vengeful.

It’s no wonder we’ve continued to use them. We have a habit of anthropomorphizing (Spelled it right on the first go, noice) everything from animals to robots to ideas. There’s a kind of comfort in associating humanity to major aspects of our lives – it’s something most of the ancient religions did when assigning specific aspects of society and nature to their own deities. There’s also a comfort in disassociating the idea from ourselves, as though some external force is at work and we’re merely along for the ride – but that’s a topic for another time.

The Muses were, in essence, the personification of the desire to create or improve. Motivation made manifest. A noble concept, but one that came with a caveat. You see, they were fine if you flittered between them, chasing one or another. Where the problems arose was when you attempted to challenge them. To claim yourself free of them – above them. That’s when they ruined you. That aspect carried down most notably to the Sirens, which some mythologies claimed to be their children.

I’ve been a victim of the Muses for as long as I can remember. Inspiration has been a great excuse to avoid becoming too committed to something. After all, if I really poured my focus into one thing that would see it get done, and if it got done then it would necessarily get in the view of other people and, as I’ve established before, that was a horrifying prospect to younger me. So, I struck out on whatever creative fancy I found. I wrote. I designed board games. I coded apps. I coded games. I tried my hand at the cello. I move from diet to diet and exercise program to exercise program. Always, that drive for the new, for the exciting and motivational, pulled me.

Most of them didn’t last long, but they lasted long enough to pull me away from the things I knew were my place. I’m still fighting those battles. There are days where the need to throw down game designs or buy a cello or practice mechanics in fighting games or clear out the garage for woodworking are so strong it takes all I can do to put them off. It doesn’t always work, either, but here’s the thing.

That’s alright.

Maybe it’s because I’m older, but I think I’ve come to understand both the allure and secret of the Muses. Like the mythology, the danger comes from trying to conquer them. We’re free to give in, at least for a little, but we can’t forget where we belong. There’s something inside us that needs to be fed, that needs to create. To act out that aspect of our Creator, upon whose image we were made. That thing – or those things, if you’re lucky and talented enough – doesn’t have the same aspect as the Muses. You need to conquer it, to spend your time on it. It draws you in, fills you up. It will be difficult. There will be days you don’t want to do it. It will grind you down. But each time you burn through, you’ll get that little bit of true joy that comes from fulfilling a small part of your purpose.

Look, this article has been all over the place. Sorry about that, but that’s the danger of going stream-of-consciousness. In the end, I just want to make one appeal. To those of you that know your cause, be it writing, music, design, art, masonry, glass blowing, crocheting, car repair, whatever – find the time. Do it. Don’t let that fire burn out. If it already has, get it back. Force it back. It’s yours, don’t let it trick you into thinking otherwise.

And if you find yourself looking side-eyed at one of the Muses, remember, we’re only human. Take one for a swing, but don’t stay too long. Remember where you belong.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pull up that bookmarked cello page. They really are gorgeous instruments.