I’ve taken my muse for granted. I’ve made an assumption that she will never leave, and that I have indefinite amounts of time to begin acknowledging her presence. My muse may be sitting in limbo waiting for me to wake her, but that does not mean that I have the right to let her sleep.
There is a closet in my mind that I leave shut. I walk by this closet in my mind daily and avoid opening because I am lazy. This closet does not contain a monster or some other tangible danger to fear. If there is a closet filled with something I dread, it is a closet filled with responsibility. It is my own responsibility to shape and fashion my destiny (how cliché), whereas currently the daily grind does that for me. I have no responsibility but to go to work in order to receive my meager wage. The perk of this job is the lack of responsibility. Some may argue that their work done is game changing or essential, but that is an illusion and the truth is denied. The materials needed to change the game are provided. None of the progress would be possible without the job, even though the talent drives the progress. It is arrogant to believe that one is something more than a cog in the engine, arrogance to believe one is a separate engine all to itself. This is never the case unless the engine was built brand new for a machine that would not exist if not for its creation.
This machine lives in the closet in my mind. I am afraid to build it. And so my muse continues to sleep, and for all I know she is already gone.