I recently got a fortune from a fortune cookie that said:

“Follow the trail of inspiration; it leads to greatness.”

Poppycock!

I think that inspiration is great. I think it can lead lots of places. But I also think that we place too much emphasis on inspiration. And when we think that inspiration is the is all to end all, we are in for trouble. Especially, if we are writers.

Now, I am not saying that people should not follow inspiration. They often should. It might even lead to greatness. But many people think that they need to wait to be inspired to do any work. They think that inspiration will strike like lightning and they will automatically be great if they follow that inspiration strike. The problem with this mentality is that people often wait and wait and wait. It is as if there is no cloud in the sky, but these people are going to wait for the lightning to come. But it rarely comes for those who just wait for it. Just like lightning rarely strikes out of a blue sky.

Personally, I think that inspiration strikes when we are working. When we are doing what we need to do. When we are busy doing anything but waiting. For the work is what inspires us. “What if I did it a different way? What if there was some tool for that? What if…” These questions do not come about when a person waits for inspiration, they come about when a person is working. When a person is doing what he or she is supposed to be doing.

The inspiration lightning strikes more often for those people busy doing what they are supposed to be doing than for those who are waiting. I suppose that is because there are often storm clouds looming. Deadlines and pressure tend to bring those clouds into view. And then, the lightning strikes. From those dark, stormy clouds.

I used to write like that. Waiting for inspiration. In fact, I would mostly write when life got me down. When there was a great loss. Usually death. I sometimes even despaired of writing because inspiration only seemed to strike when a loved one died. I wrote a poem or a song or a remembrance of that loved one. But I wrote it too late. I wrote the odes when my loved ones were not around to hear the words.

Which is why I write nearly every day. Or at least part of why I write on such a schedule. I do not want to wait for death or destruction or calamity to strike before I write. Before I am inspired. I want to write about the mundane as well as the inspirational.

I do think that inspiration is a marvelous thing. I look forward to it happening on those rare or even not so rare occasions. And yes. Sometimes we really ought to follow that inspiration. But we should never wait for inspiration. We should work diligently and inspiration will strike. Sometimes from the most mundane things. Sometimes from a silly fortune cookie.

I would like to write something great someday. Even if it is just one thing.

I do not think that I am alone thinking that I would like to write something great. But I also know that even if somebody does think that something I write is great, greatness is not determined by what people think now. Or even in a few years. It seems that greatness is determined by future generations.

As I think about future generations judging me and my writing, I cannot help but think that if anybody does still read my writing in future generations (and that is a big if), they may not have the context of history. They may not understand what circumstances I am writing in. They might not understand what the human race was going through at the time. Which is understandable. We do not necessarily read books with a historical lens. We cannot determine the social context of stories of olde. We can barely read books in light of our own situations. Or maybe that is just me.

Of course, there is the real possibility that none of my books or writings will survive beyond my time. My Amazon account and my blog publishing services could be turned off as soon as I perish. Which, in all likelihood, is what will happen. So despite what we say about the internet being forever, my writings will probably all pass away when I do.

Which is the ultimate writing judge. Time.

Think about it. There are lots and lots of books and other writing that we will never know about because they have not survived. People do not know about the author striving to be published in the whatever-teenth century. We have never heard of very many people who have put pen to paper. After all, we all have writing out there somewhere. Or at least we did. We did until we burned up our term papers and essays and poems when the class was over. When we needed a little something to start the fire. When we decided that we needed to clean out the attic or closet or wherever we store that writing we have kept for so long.

Which is a bummer.

(Wow. I did not mean to write such a downer blog post.)

I really just meant to say that I would rather be prolific and read by many while I am still around than be considered great after my time. I would rather people see me as a hack but still read my stuff rather than somebody who was ignored in my own time and discovered much later. Of course, the ultimate would be to be adored now and later. But that might be too much to ask. Okay. It is way too much to ask. But still…

Well, that is about it for today’s daydreaming. I will keep writing whether anybody reads. And maybe, just maybe, I can write something someday that somebody will think is great.

The burden that we all must bear
Is not an onus that should own us
Indeed the burden that we bear
In this life should be a bonus.

For the burden that we all share
Is that God’s image we do bear
And for each other we should care
We should love each other if we dare.

Instead we think we are not free
If we step into the Christian yoke
But when we surrender all to Thee
We end up free like Jesus spoke.

The freedom that we all can share
Lies in the burden that we bear
Because for each other we must care
Because God’s image each of us bear.

[‘The Weight I Never Chose’
Write a poem that could use this as its title or main theme. Explore a burden you didn’t ask for, but learned to carry.
DailyPrompt prompt submitted by Poet.]

We should celebrate milestones. Like my 1000^th blog post. Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. Nearly a year ago.

If I had been paying attention, I would have put out a celebratory 1000^th blog post. But I am not that attentive. Nor was I all that excited about having 1000 blog posts. I suppose I should have been. After all, it has taken me many years to get over 1000 blog posts. (By the way, I am not trying to see how many times I can write, “1000 blog posts.” It just seems that way.) In fact, I only know that I have over 1000 blog posts because my blog publishing tool counts. If not for that counting mechanism, I would have no idea how many blog posts I have. Ah well, so much for celebratory milestones.

I have said it before, but when I started this whole blogging thing, I was just interested in getting a body of work out onto the internet. The web. The interweb. Online. I just wanted an online presence. Okay, I wanted it to be a large internet presence. But when I say large presence, I really wanted a far reach. Which means that I wanted a lot of people reading my blog. Or at least that was part of why I started this blog. I wanted lots of people all over the world reading my blog.

Well, I have had people from various parts of the world read my blog. So you might say that I do have a far reach. But alas. After all these years, I still have just a few faithful readers (both real and imaginary). And I am still eternally grateful for them. After all, if not for them, I would be the only one who reads my writing.

When the whole explosion on the internet did not happen, I was content to put out content just so that I would have that content out there. I was content to have that growing body of work. Little did I know that this body of work would be so large (over 1000 blog posts). Yes, it has taken lots of time to get that large, but I guess that is what happens. You feed the monster and it grows. Not that blogging is a monster, but I suppose there are times when I think it might be. (But that is another story. That I just thought of, by the way.)

There is one other reason I started this blogging thing in the beginning. And no. It was not because everybody else was doing it. Even though everybody else was doing it when I started. No. The other reason I started to blog was to hone my craft. I wanted to get better at writing. Now, I cannot truly be the judge of my own writing, but I do think that I have gotten better. And if you disagree, I would love you to tell me so. I truly love it when people tell me ways to fix my stuff. Usually. (Again. A different story. One that will probably never be told. Or that I already told.)

I have enjoyed this whole blogging journey. I have enjoyed honing my craft (whether I have gotten any better at it or not). I have enjoyed having a few faithful readers (even though I wanted a whole bunch of faithful readers). And I am grateful that I have been able to sustain my writing momentum enough to create a large body of work (even if people might think it is so much digital garbage).

No. I did not celebrate my 1000^th blog post. No. There is no celebration for having a large body of work. No. People do not care that I have over 1000 blog posts out on the interweb. But I am glad that I have kept at it. I am glad that I have a few faithful readers. And I am glad that I am able to continue to blog. I hope that I can keep blogging for hundreds if not thousands more blog posts to come.

I have no idea what number blog post this is, but thank you for celebrating over 1000 blogs posts with me.

Would you rather go play hopscotch
Or jump rope out on the street?
Would you rather have a juicy steak
Or eat something really sweet?
Would you rather learn about something
Or just play games all your life?
Would you rather live a life of ease
Or have some stresses in your life?

We think choices amount to nothing
For we make choices every day
But each and every choice we make
Transports us upon our way.
Who is to say that your next choice
Might set the trajectory of your life
And that one decision could lead
To a life of misery and strife.

But some of life’s decisions
Do not amount to a hill of beans
They are just like in the movies
Where they have some silly scenes.
And you cannot really stress about
Every decision in your life
Even though each and every choice you make
Plots the pathway of your life.

So if you would rather go play hopscotch
Than jump rope out on the street
Just make sure to do it
When there are no cars that you might meet.
And as you make the big decisions
Keep your future in your mind
And try to make your choices
So that it is true peace that you will find.

[Would you rather….?
Finish this line, and create a poem that flows from it.
DailyPrompt prompt.]