I remember a best-selling author (I think Jonathan Franzen) saying that when he got his new laptop he took some Crazy Glue, applied it to the end of an Ethernet cable, connected it to his new computer. Then, with a pair of wire cutters, he cut off the cable where the plastic due-hickey snaps into the port. Thus, he was able to live uninterrupted in his imaginary reality.

As artists, we need to court and protect that magic – the one that exists, emerges out of somewhere — (who knows where?) — our interior world, our imagination, heaven, the ether, the gods? To cross the magical threshold, we need to overcome resistance (are you a man, or a mouse?). Between us and the creative work dance the little demons. Demons of distraction, of fear. Of hesitancy. Fear our work is not good enough. Fear we don’t have anything of value to say or share. Fear that once we cross the threshold, the Muse will fail to show up. Internet distraction – literally millions of interesting facts, stories, video clips waive to us from the sidelines and whisper that we can get to the work later. What do a few minutes matter anyway?

Ignore them. Forge forward.

When I Met My Muse
by William Stafford

I glanced at her and took my glasses
off--they were still singing.  They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table, and then
ceased.  Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent.  I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched.  "I am your own
way of looking at things," she said.  "When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation."  And I took her hand.

Once the little demons are passed by, the Muse offers her hand and guides us on the magical journey. What did not exist before takes shape and assumes a life of its own. We build internal momentum, and embark on a journey accompanied by forces bigger than ourselves. A strange elation takes over.

. . .

In your journal, talk to your Muse as if it is a person. Ask it if it has anything to say about your relationship with it. Does it feel respected, valued or neglected and ignored?

Write down what it says back. Pay attention.