Following the Muse


I have been journaling daily for two or three years and have come to depend on it as much as I need sleep. This turning inward has served me in many ways: practice getting in the flow of writing, a source of wisdom, keeping me honest (self-deception doesn’t fly on those pages), guiding me to juicy questions and insights, putting ideas together in new ways, and generally reminding me that I am not alone. This journal is my muse, spirit guide, big sister, unconditionally loving mother, and best friend, all rolled into a slim, black-bound, creamy-paged Moleskine.

In short, I pretty much do whatever it tells me. So far, it hasn’t steered me wrong, although if it suggests running naked across the Bay Bridge I might wonder.

This morning, the muse suggested that I post daily journal entries on a blog. My first thought was, wow, isn’t that pure narcissism? Even so, I couldn’t help noticing how excited and light I felt at the suggestion.

A digression – often, when an idea comes to me and I get really excited about it, the first question I get asked is, who is the intended (or – worse word – target) audience? This always sends me into a corner, wondering what’s wrong with me. Why don’t I know who my target audience is? Every marketing course ever taught starts with that; it’s totally basic.

The truth is, my intended audience is usually myself. If that’s narcissistic, guilty as charged. I share things of beauty, truth, and wisdom because I need them for myself in this crazy world that bombards us with messages of not-enough, scarcity, competitiveness, celebrity, worth = wealth, Keystone XL pipelines, collapsing economies and weird weather. Sometimes other people respond positively, so I guess I’m not the only one who needs a little light now and then. And anyway, I promise to include stuff that comes through me directly from the muse/spirit/source/Buddha/my grandmother/dreamtime/Mystery, to minimize the narcissism factor. Deal?

So that’s what I’m doing here. Sharing my story of thriving on the threshold. What’s that, you ask? Read the About section and find out.

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