Candles and Balloons—Celebrating One Year of Meeting the Muse After Midlife
As I reflect on the one-year anniversary of publishing Meeting the Muse After Midlife, I’m struck by how much I’ve learned. Through podcasts, webinars, and conversations, I’ve been listening intently to what resonates with people, all while noticing how the idea of the Muse can lead us toward a richer creative life.
There have been moments when I’ve wished for a larger audience, but every time someone shares how they’ve taken to heart something I’ve written, I feel incredibly rewarded.
The Muse cerca 2024
I’m still on a quest to discover how we can live our most vital creative lives, and how the Muse—whether you see them as “her,” “him,” or “them”—can guide us. At times, I’ve wondered if the concept of the Muse—a rich, imaginal presence supporting our creative spirits—might seem too “out there.” But I realize that’s usually my anxiety talking.
If you’ve read the book, you know I’ve struggled to shed my credibility-obsessed, professional identity in favor of a path that allows more freedom to be who I am.
One of the gifts of aging—and aging is a theme in the book—is that we start to care less about whether people think we’re “weird.” What matters more is whether we care about others, not how unusual we may seem. In fact, I want everyone to feel free to be a little unusual.
The Spirit of the Muse
Not everyone wants to engage with the kind of imaginary presence I experienced. The Muse I called Isabel felt like a wise, comforting, elderly British woman who helped me navigate my post-midlife transition and trust my creative path. But the spirit of the Muse is about more than a figure—it’s about connecting to the deep truth within ourselves and sensing into the larger field around us.
People receive inspiration in different ways—a gut feeling, the rustle of wind, or a small voice offering suggestions while staring at a white canvas. (“Why not try blue? Or make a mark on the right?”) For some, it comes through meditation, talking with friends, or allowing the heart to swell while watching a sunset.
Others might glean insights from something as mundane as an airline billboard that sparks an idea. (“Fly to Mexico.”) Or some may sit quietly, asking a question, and then writing what they hear.
Speaking with the Muse
The Muse, as I understood her, isn’t a prophet, nor is she a voice that should be followed blindly. Not every intuition is meant to be acted upon. Isabel always reminded me to test the insights I received. After all, it’s our responsibility as incarnate beings to think things through.
For instance, when I was writing my book, Isabel suggested I tell my personal story instead of hiding behind the facade of a “self-help expert.” I resisted at first, but she was right. I believe readers connect with the book because I share my journey rather than telling them what to do.
Celebrating the anniversary
Milestones deserve celebration. To mark this special occasion, I invited my dear friend Gay Roselle—poet, writer, artist, and former science teacher—to have a conversation about the book and what it meant to her. She moved my heart by reading quotes that had inspired her to reflect on her own path into retirement. Hearing my words coming back to me from someone who found meaning in them was a true gift.
Hearing Gay read quotes that meant something to her was quite a treat for me. (You can hear the interview, done for our local radio station, here.)
Fresh words from the Muse
On this anniversary, I sat and asked the Muses if they might offer something new. As you may know from the book, I’m never quite sure how much comes from them and how much comes from me, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter.