To My Muse: 10 Reasons Why I Love You

February 26, 2008 · by Joanna Paterson · in

I don’t call you that, of course, but you know me, I like to find the words that’ll help people get my meaning :-)

To me you’re my unconscious mind, my writing self (except I don’t call you that either, but I know that’s what you do).

“Beautiful unconscious mind” is what I call you when I need to ask for help.

“You”, when it’s just me and you.

I try to say thank you, always, for the things that you do.

And I don’t want to share all our deepest secrets, but maybe I could tell of some of the things that make my eyes fill with gratitude, the reasons why I love you.

I thought I’d try and make it ten, because you do know I like to play with numbers.

I mean, I know that you like to play with numbers, and I figured we might get this written if I gave you something to work on.

And that would be one of them. I love the way I can ask you, beautiful unconscious mind, for five ways, or 9 reasons, or 27 secrets and you’ll run off and look for them.

Come back with jewels. Nudge me and say: ‘look, look, look at this list! Isn’t it just perfect – do you like this one?  It really made me laugh, go on, you need to include that one.’

And I have to smile at your childish enthusiasm.

I love the way you wake me in the night, whispering ‘I’ve got an idea’. And I thank you for it, and ask you to keep it till morning.

I even love the way you nudge me again 5 minutes later. Demanding that the words get written now, because they’re too good to wait for morning. And they are, and, mainly, I don’t mind :-)

I love the way you respond when I thank you for a word, a phrase, a beautiful idea.

You’re like a cat being stroked, arching your back, rubbing your head against my hand, purring in delight at my thanks and your own brilliance.

And I love the way you stalk off, cat like, when I ask you to come up with some clever words.

Proud, haughty, independent, refusing to perform on demand.

I love the way you look at me when I’m trying too hard with my words. Trying to sound poetic or to convey too much emotion.

You don’t say anything, just look, and arch an eyebrow.

It’s enough, my loving critic. The point is made.

I love it when you’re being tough. Enough of the flannel. Demanding it’s told as it is.

Short fiery sentences. One line pointed paragraphs.

And I love it when you want to write a line of a poem. Not for anyone else to read, just me and you, lines that flow from the heart, that show me words I didn’t know I had, and spill over feelings I didn’t know I could write.

I love the way you respond, like me, to the power and the beauty of wild places.

Will gift me the power to provide the frame, to choose the words, to capture my response and pass it on.

I love that we can walk together. I always see more when you walk with me.

I love that you are my most nonsensical friend, most thoughtful philospher, the craziest dreamer, most ridiculous playmate.

All of these, none of them, and more.

Oh I could go on, and if I asked you for more, perhaps you’d give me a list:-)

Or perhaps you’d give me one of those looks and say: Enough, already.

~~~

This was my contribution to a Group Writing Project on the theme of My Love Affair With Writing.

I wasn’t sure what or how (or even whether) to write my entry, but I’ve taken my inspiration from those of you who have already written your contributions and shared so much, so openly and so generously, about what it is you love about writing. Thank you.

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