The Realm of the Possible

When I was in graduate school for writing, we endured the argument of whether to designate a time for writing every day or just write when you feel like it. Rebellious by nature, I didn’t want to believe that there had to be a set time, the clock dinging and we, like Pavlov’s dog, hitting the keys to create something of meaning.

I was foolish enough to think that inspiration could come at any time.

It does, but that doesn’t mean you can capture it, finesse it and mold it into something worth keeping.

Inspiration can hit while you’re driving a car, cleaning up from dinner, cheering on your son’s soccer team. It can come while you’re in a meeting with a client that needs a lot of attention. Or just any client you want to focus on. Inspiration is floating like those dandelion puffs, all the time, everywhere, ¬†sometimes getting caught in your throat.

Which is why there is brilliance in routine.

A set time to write, to create, to come upon the next great something.

That’s the wisdom of time, the gift in living long enough to see how wrong you could be then, and how right you can be now.

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