In the summertime, one of my family’s favorite pastimes is taking evening walks after dinner. There are just three places where we enjoy walking, and of those three, merely two we visit regularly. I regularly hear my friends refer to “family traditions” they have upholded since they could remember, among those being a trip to the vineyard every August, or a huge extended family get together on the 4th of July for a barbeque. I would say evening walks in the summer is almost as close as it gets for me.
When my family goes on evening walks we have pretty interesting conversations. One conversation last night stuck out to me. I was talking to my mom about some of my friends and what they’re like. I had a friend who was never inspired, and actually admitted to not being able to be inspired. When I was younger, on this blog especially, I wrote a nimiety of posts on the role of inspiration in my life. As I've gotten older, the depth and power of inspiration has evolved and continues to change with new experiences. Yet, it strikes me as interesting how at other ends, I’ve met people who can’t be inspired.
For me, inspiration is one of the weirdest, but most singularly unique and spectacular emotion humans have the power to feel. It’s for that odd moment, regardless of its length that I feel not just empowered, but I feel every hint of logicality and practicality elude my mind. Inspiration is almost like irrationality in a positive light. It’s where suddenly things that in a more rational state I would never dream of achieving become easily attainable. Like yes, I can do this! I’m going to be just like that!
Inspiration is that emotion I feel after reading an exceptional book and rush to the computer to start writing my own book. It’s how I felt after recently finishing Educated by Tara Westover. I remember going on my computer, writing the beginnings to a new story. Inspiration has also manifested itself on the court. During tennis matches, on the courts next to me, there are sometimes matches with higher level players. In between points, I’ll find myself watching them play. Oh how they elongate that backhand groundstroke and bend their knees to generate spin. For that brief moment after, for the next point, it’s as if I feel their stroke, that precision in my backhand. For the briefest moment, I think wow, this is all I really need to do! And I’m able to execute and perform just a smidge better, even if only for the shortest of moments.
I believe inspiration is an immensely healthy emotion. It’s that emotion that defies all realities and circumstances, and tells me I can do whatever I want. It’s an emotion that lacks a linkage to truth, but this drives me, even if just for the slightest of moments, to better myself.
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