Forgo the Muse

Instead: Work within your window

You know the drill: For centuries, creators await the theatrical arrival of an age-old celestial oracle to light the North Star of inspiration.

In some legends, this transcendent Muse kisses her subject; in others, she literally bites her subject. However contact is made, we’ve looked to this ethereal pal to open the gateway to productivity so the “aha” moments can commence.

I’ve thought a lot about this, and putting aside my baked in fear of biting—I’m, like, really not into giving my power over to a deity.

And when it comes to creating—neither should you.

Ideation and the generative process have been so historically misunderstood, no wonder people have relied on a primordial being.

In lieu of waiting around for an unreliable exterior force like a flaky hookup—why not take a more empowering approach? Why not get more concrete, more grounded—and think of your creative timeline as working within a window?—one that you can unlock, open, and close at will.

Not all our creative windows are open for business at the same time. Night owls are fueled during werewolf hours— others at sporadic moments in the day. Mine—in case you were wondering—is at its best from late morning until about 4:00 PM, whereby I close the proverbial latch and attempt to rejoin polite, civil society.

When we work with our window, we strive for a sustainable relationship with our creativity.

In doing so, we shed the skin of the tortured and dare I say, counterproductive tropes:

• The Mad Genius, who submits sanity, sleep, and stability for her work.

• The Bohemian, who has no separation, no boundaries between creating and living.

We reject the idea of the Muse being the one to choose us; instead, we choose the work.

Naturally, with that said, windows are seldom 100% sealed. We can expect a draft long after we’ve tucked away our laptops or legal pads for the day. We can anticipate a gust of prolific revelation to stir us at a cocktail party. And we shouldn’t be surprised when sudden insight strikes us halfway into Act II at an overpriced musical.

In striving to balance boundaries while navigating the imaginary and physical world—we still make room for sudden alchemy, surprising magic—the unexpected spark.

But trust me when I say no one needs to bite you to get there.