Inspiration is a funny thing. Sometimes it comes and goes at a whim, rising and ebbing in the background until it hits fullforce like a wave, pushing you at its forefront toward your goals. Other times you feel it coming long before, building slowly into a monstrous force for which you make way and become merely the spearhead to this power.

Yet not all work can be driven by inspiration, they say — and it seems to be true. If inspiration is a creature of whimsy, it must often be disregarded for the more practical concerns of daily work. A 9-5 job, for instance, can’t rely on inspiration alone — work must be done when it must be done, muse be damned.

But some tack on to this sobering thought an uplifting addendum: inspiration may be curated. Through diligence and patience, and much routine, inspiration can be brought to bear as a force of will, trained like a terrible beast to come when called, do its work, then leave to recover its might. A true expert might then have inspiration at beck and call — a magnificent tool if so.

Myself, I find habit and routine anathema to my way of life. Perhaps that is why inspiration remains a flighty creature for me, as I refuse to take the steps required to train my personal dragon.
Or perhaps it cannot be done at all, or only by a lucky few. Yet I have had moments — as undoubtedly you have as well — when I became instinctively aware that inspiration lurked beneath the surface of my spirit, ready to do its work should only I call upon it. Those moments may come and go as a lucid dream within sleep, but for its duration it was at my command.

I must wonder, then, and it remains an open question in my mind: is inspiration like the mystical Djinn, a powerful creature, with forces that may take you far, but can never be tamed? Or, like the wild beast, can its might be marshaled by anyone with sufficient patience and fortitude?

There’s only one way to find out.