The Muses were the nine Greek goddesses who presided over the arts (including music) and literature. A shrine to the Muses was called in Latin a museum. An artist or poet about to begin work would call on his particular Muse to inspire him, and a poem itself might begin with such a call; thus, Homer’s Odyssey begins, “Sing to me of the man, Muse” (that is, of Odysseus). Today a muse may be one’s special creative spirit, but some artists and writers have also chosen living human beings to serve as their muses.
A muse. Different from amuse, but that’s just mincing words.
I believe that everyone has a muse at least once in their lives, that not just “creative people” have a muse to inspire them. Just like I don’t buy it when someone says to me “Oh, I’m not creative.” Everyone is creative. So everyone has a muse.
I would be a much different person today if I hadn’t found mine. My thinking would be different. My writing would be different. My personality would definitely be different.
Whether it’s in spirit form, flesh and bone, or existing in some as-of-yet undiscovered dimension or parallel universe, muses are real, and a necessary part of the human experience.
The muse is the entity to which our creation is dedicated. The person or energy blob or ray of light that inspires us to externalize what’s inside. They give us courage, strength and guidance. They are our audience.
We love our muse, whatever form they are in. We adore them, we know them, understand them, and revere them because they adore us, know us, understand us, and revere us. Whether they exist in human form or not, the lines between fantasy and reality get blurred, and this is the one of the few times when this type of behavior is ok.
If your muse is a person, however, and you’ve attributed them with traits or skills or superpowers they may not actually possess, and you approach them in real life as if they do possess these wondrous abilities, trouble could ensue. Just saying.
You can give your muse whatever endearing personality quirks you want. You can imagine your muse having the perfect body, the perfect skull housing the most perfect brain that understands you perfectly. All of this is OK – whatever gets you through the long dark night of the creative soul. But if you call up your muse and assume they actually do know your every thought, and actually do love every single ridiculous word that comes out of your mouth, even more trouble could ensue.
Having a muse is a great way to focus creative energy. It is a great way to love something or someone, a great way to express emotion, and it is always a perfect receiver of your creative genius. I write to my muse all the time. I feel the energy of my muse, I let it wash over me, and as the waves recede, small pearls are left on the shore. I walk along the shore and pick up these pearls, and I collect them. And when I have enough, I string them together and create something bigger and more beautiful than they could have been by themselves.
Isn’t that what it’s all about? Making life beautiful? It’s nice to have help.