Prayer to the Muse

I don't need to try to identify as a writer.
I've been writing for 23 years.  I've been writing longer than I have been menstruating.
I do however, need to mount my defense.  I need to take this aspiration seriously.  Not because someone else told me it is serious, but because it has been in my soul since I was 12 years old.
My husband watches soccer.  He always says,
"The best defense is a good offense."  I roll my eyes at his propensity to make the same obvious statements repeatedly.  However, I think he is right.
The War of Art is a call to arms against the tyrant Resistance who seeks to plug the flow of creation.  
I know this tyrant.  With me, he got really clever and morphed into bulimia and alcoholism.  But I called him out.  I named him a Lie, and I am still acting in opposition to his stories.  This was not a gentle move. 
I did not accept excuses.  My mantras were absolutes.

 Artist Mark Demsteader
Muse Emma Watson

  

"Alcohol is no small thing.  I cannot take one drink."
"Got to a meeting every day no matter what."
"In recovery, I take action.  Regardless of how I feel or what I think."
"This is life or death.  Either I get sober, or my life will end."
"Accept the food I eat, however imperfect and do not purge."
"There is absolutely no reason I need to starve my body.  It will not serve me.  It does not equal freedom."
"I cannot have the life I desire, and indulge in this eating disorder.  I do not get to have both."

Just as it scared me to get sober and to release the ED, I am afraid to own my decision to write with intent.  I am afraid to declare war on Resistance and to claim my shield.  The shield says, "My voice matters.  This art I have crafted is important.  I call it complete.  I will stand behind what it says about myself and the world."

I was reminded this morning, there is a softness about this whole endeavor.  Yes, my decision must be solid if I am to create change.  However all the power does not come from me.  In fact most of it is Grace.  It is a light which seeps through the cracks my hammer makes.   My job is simply to take the tool in my hand and pound on the nearest surface:

Sit down to write everyday.
 Accept no excuses for why you cannot.
Don't worry about whether or not it is "good"
Tell the truth.  Use concrete details.  Say what IS right in front of you.  

When I do this, I am the  clean  lake of my most sacred meditation.
In order for a lake to be clear it must have inflow and outflow.

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These elements are timeless.  Artists have always known, by these truths beautiful things are made.   So, this morning I read about inviting the muses, the juice, the flow, the Gods or angels or the madness...with a prayer.
In The War of Art, he uses a prayer to the muses.  He begins his writing with an invitation and a request to this Grace I have mentioned.  He uses Homer's Odyssey.  It's a little too thick for me.  
Tomorrow I will write my own prayer.  Until then, I offer up this from a blog I read this morning:
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May your days upon this earth be blessed
May the poetry of your being be freely expressed
May the light of compassion always shine in your eyes
And may your heart flow with a tenderness that never dies

May you hear the universal melody
May your song sing on endlessly
May the kindness of your spirit never be broken
And may your heart always be open

May you wake each day as if you were born anew
May you realize the beauty that’s in you and all around you
May you always see a rainbow in the sky above
And may your heart always burn with the living flame of love

"The odd thing is that once I say the prayer, I feel like the matters I’m about to craft are more serious, and so I am far less tempted to check my e-mail or FB or Tweet or what have you. I’m all about the work."
http://www.howardandrewjones.com/writing/invocation-to-the-muses