Can Inspiration Be Found or Does it Have to Come to You?

Heidi Collie (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

The term inspirational is commonly followed by the word person or quote. I think we all have a guilty favorite, and this is mine:

“Whatever you dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Framed on the wall of my Vancouver house, I stole this piece from my father’s office before moving to boarding school in October 2018 and have kept it with me ever since. 

Despite huge demand for digestible media content in the form of soundbites, quotes and youtube TedTalks, I would argue that it is not productive to follow the term inspiration or inspirational with a noun such as quote. Rather, more deserving of this place is a verb. In other words, a piece may well be inspirational, but what does it inspire you to do? Who does it inspire you to be? For example, I feel inspired to: write; draw; compose; research nutrition; share what I have learned; apply to more jobs.

So what exactly is inspiration? Not to be confused with motivation (which unfortunately Google defines in almost exactly the same way), inspiration is “the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something.” The way I see it, while motivation is the store of energy, inspiration is the store of desire. As public speaker and entrepreneur Steven Bartlett regularly addresses, motivation is most powerful when it is intrinsic or, formed upon one’s core inner values. In contrast, inspiration is strongest in its extrinsic form – emerging from the actions of others and the culture of your community. 

Different as they are, inspiration and motivation share something foundational. James Clear famously wrote, “action creates motivation,” implying that you must first get going, get started, get moving and, over time, your store of energy will build; your motivation will increase. Similarly, inspiration does not come to you where you are.

So how does one find inspiration? The difficult thing is, unlike motivation, you can’t fake it ‘till you make it, but at the same time you must not sit back and hope it just happens to you. Ultimately, inspiration finds you, but only if you give it a chance to. That means breaking free of the life you know, stepping out of your home, work and usual routine. Learn new things, encounter new people and places; expose yourself to culture in every form and one day you’ll wake up and feel that sense of purpose, care for causes greater than yourself and desire to make a difference in some way. Don’t go looking for inspiration, go looking for life, and inspiration will find you. Thus, it seems fitting that as well as the definition we have been running with, inspiration means “the drawing in of breath; inhalation.” So there you go, inspiration is extrinsic, it comes from the world around you but, crucially, you must let it in.

I am no artist. In my own life I favour motivation over inspiration. I am well practiced at willpower, enjoy structure, control, tracking wellness habits like personal training sessions, cycling on Strava, nutrition on My Fitness Pal, books on Audible, and routine on Onrise. Inspiration has always taken second place, sometimes leaving me energized but aimless, wanting to make a difference but unclear in which way. Inherently extrinsic, inspiration isn’t within my control, but I am comforted knowing that when I boldly go out in search of adventure, it reliably finds me. I’ve made my peace with this. In fact, it keeps me going.

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Can Uncreative People Create Art?

Florence Ng (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

In Brene Brown’s Gift of Imperfection, she emphasises creative expression as a key part of living wholeheartedly, and by engaging in creative activities, one begins to let go of comparison to others as a measure of self-worth. But what if you are not a creative person? If creativity is inherent to all human beings, yet you lack the practice and skill to execute creative visions, can you still create art? 

More importantly, does your art have value? 

In the mythos of Vincent Van Gogh’s story, he did not always possess the skills to match his creativity. Instead, his life was dedicated to continuously cultivating these skills to eventually cement a legacy he would never see. Most people, including children, can technically put ideas onto paper by drawing colourful shapes and vague resemblances of common nouns, but whether that can be considered art and what the boundary into artistry may be is a whole different discussion. Indeed, the monetary value of art can feel rather arbitrary to those of us who do not work professionally within the art world. 

For many artists, self-expression can take on many forms, and many place the emphasis on one’s personal growth and journey. Art can have great personal value, especially as a therapeutic way of meditating on and expressing one’s ideas, thoughts, and feelings. It can take on so many forms, from traditional media like paint and sculpture to embodying modes of expression like singing and dancing to modern engines of creativity like social media.

In today’s world, creativity, art, and the skills to create art are in the midst of intense discourse, particularly since the latter half of 2022. With the explosion of interest in artificial intelligence generators, it seems that anybody can “create” art by manifesting creative visions with mere taps on a keyboard. Such “artists” even sell their artwork to people who may understand how it all works. On one side of the discourse, AI art is an inevitable part of the future. On the other side, it is blatant theft. Can AI art be considered creative simply because it looks professionally done? If so, does it have value? 

In my personal point of view, it is difficult to say what the value of art may be in the midst of this fiery and historically significant part of art history. It is harder still to predict the future of art. While I am not a professional artist myself, I cannot help but lament the current state of lawlessness among AI users threatening the livelihood of artists everywhere. I do believe that human beings are inherently creative and that everyone can benefit from a safe place to create. However, I also believe that personal gain should never be at the expense of others.

My advice to people who consider themselves less creative is to try everything. The act of creation is not about perfection—your personal art does not have to be “good” for it to be meaningful or valuable. If drawing is a challenge, perhaps you’ll find more enjoyment out of sewing, baking, or simple methods like paint-pouring. Even taking the time to snap pictures of flowers along the sidewalk can bring about the therapeutic quality of art. 

Hello! My name is Florence, and I’m an educator, storyteller, traveller, avid board game collector and curious, lifelong learner, among many other things. I’m passionate about human connection and mental well-being, and I love meeting new people! 

Thoughts on Writer’s Block

Eri Ikezawa (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

That petulant blinking line on an empty document, where each passing moment feels like judgment day, as time elapses with not a single iota of progress—we’ve all experienced it to some degree in our lives: writer’s block. Whether it’s the struggle of writing a university paper or unraveling the knot in our heads to finish the main plot of our creative writing endeavour, in some way or another, we have all combated this frustrating phenomenon. 

As a fan of occasional creative writing, I think it would be unfair to compare myself to a person who makes their livelihood as an author. However, I often unintentionally avoid writing when I am not inspired—a stab at ensuring I keep writer’s block at an arm’s length, giving it a wide berth like the creative pariah that it is. 

It is easy for me to circumvent writer’s block since I know I tend to be most inspired when I am sad—something I am very consciously aware of. I have grown to realize that when I am happy, I usually tend to be too busy thriving and being active to desire focusing on writing and I also usually tend not to be as introspective during those times. And so, for that reason, I feel most inspired and creative when I experience a dip in my life. 

As painful and agonizing as whatever I may be experiencing in real time may be, the artistic side of me finds some sort of beauty in it too. It also becomes something like a physical relic of whatever event is affecting me—in fact, I have a diary dating back to 2007. Even though I feel intensely dissociated from the person I was fifteen years ago, it is magical being able to step into my shoes and view everything the way I did back then. 

And so, I find I experience writer’s block when I try to write poetry when I haven’t recently experienced anything memorable or inspirational. I never directly look for inspiration, but sometimes it’s a certain song, a turn of phrase I read in a book, a scene in a nature documentary, or I just use it as an emotional release during difficult times. 

With all that said, I suppose I simply don’t often experience writer’s block because I usually actively avoid it by not writing unless I literally feel a tingle in my fingers, teasing and taunting me to set the page on fire—all it takes is a spark. 

But if anything, the closest I personally get to experiencing writer’s block is through these blog submissions. I am intensely passionate about the topic of self-help and development and deeply desire to make a difference in people’s lives, but it is a personal challenge for me to be given a broad theme with a specific topic—rather than the personal “freelance” kind of writing I tend to gravitate towards. 

I find that I usually hit a wall after writing for a while so I don’t try to push it, knowing it will be a fruitless endeavour. I usually pick it back up on a different day when my mind has been refreshed; although there is a whole separate challenge in picking it up on a different day, when the engine has been turned off once, to try and reprise the same journey you were on another day. 

But I find it easier to go through the speedbumps and clunky alleyways of stopping once and restarting over the hassle of driving straight through when the mind is tired, and the gas tank is empty. The greatest struggle of this method is ensuring what follows is streamlined and seamless. That is, it shouldn’t look as though an expert seamstress handed over the remaining work to a novice, the uniform lines of the first few threads turning arbitrary and clumsy, sure signs of a rookie.

Despite the fact I don’t always experience this troublesome phenomenon, I still empathize greatly with the struggle of writer’s block. I suppose in some ways I pride myself on my literary skills, having always prioritized my affinity with language and writing as extremely high on my list of strengths. Therefore, when I feel stumped—a relentless fool running into the same, sturdy brick wall for the umpteenth time—it feels like a personal affront to what I inherently believe best characterizes me to some extent. 

While I logically understand that writer’s block doesn’t unequivocally define my literary skills or my abilities as a person, it can occasionally leave me restless and insecure. It feels like an itch I can’t scratch, a sore I can’t relieve, a burn I can’t soothe—it’s constantly thrumming in the back of my head, reminding me that there’s something I need or want to accomplish but that I’m somehow unable to manage. 

Ultimately though, just as the circumstances of writer’s block befalling any author or writer is variable, the solution for it is also dependent on the individual. I don’t think there is one singular way to rectify the problem. If I were to make suggestions that have helped me out in the past, one idea I have is having friends edit your work or contribute their own ideas. Sometimes, it helps to put the work down and immerse yourself in the real world. And on other occasions, you simply must wait until the dry spell passes and rain graces the literary drought. 

But no matter what and no matter how long your writer’s block endures, I want to remind people that it does not define your skill or you as a person—you are still as talented as ever. And the dry spell, as always, will pass.  

My name is Eri Ikezawa and I have an extended minor in psychology and a major in linguistics. I’m still on the path to quelling questions about myself and the direction I want to head in, but in the meantime, I have always wanted to find a way to help others and contribute to a community dedicated to personal development and self-love.