Why Was My Muse Hiding? And What on Earth Did Her Message Mean?

I had the pleasure of being on Mark Stinson’s podcast a few months ago, and when I mentioned my Meet Your Muse Guided Visualization, one of the exercises I share in Breathe. Write. Breathe. and The Joy of Writing Journal, he invited me back to record the Meditation on his other, short podcast, 5 Minutes of Peace, which aired last week.

My Journey to the Creative Muse

I started to listen just to hear how it came out, but realized, “Why waste an opportunity to be guided to meet my muse?” I rewound to the beginning and let my voice guide me to find a question and connect with my muse. I wasn’t expecting what I got!

As I entered the woods, they became filled with snow. I sensed some animals—a wolf lurking nearby, an owl high up in a tree, a mama bear hibernating with her cub in a cave, and a fox family in their den. While none came to greet me, I felt their reassuring presence as I walked on.

When I entered the cabin where I usually meet my muse, I felt guided to sit by the fire to warm myself. From behind me, I felt my muse drape a warm, soft blanket over my shoulders. My muse handed me soup again from behind. I realized I couldn’t see her, as if she were both present and absent.

And when she handed me the soup, I couldn’t quite grasp it. I spilled it, or maybe she spilled it on me when she fed me the alphabet soup with a spoon. It wasn’t clear exactly what was happening, only that our usual interaction of her feeding me alphabet soup wasn’t working.

Plus I couldn’t see her.

Was she even there?

What Did My Muse Want of Me?

My question had been, “Given that I’m still healing from a long digestive disturbance and not writing as consistently, what would you like me to do to nourish my creativity?”

I expected some nudge to write more, but she said, “Fight for Your Life.”

Whoa! I hadn’t been that sick, had I? And I’m on the mend, right?

The thing was, even though I couldn’t see her, I felt her presence, similar to the animals. Almost like I was in my own cocoon. Her words sounded like a warning, but I didn’t feel scared somehow.

And I thought about the words more, “Fight for Your Life.”

Fight for My Life?

There’s the obvious expression, “Fight for Your Life,” which tends to address an actual battle with some horrible disease.

That could be it, but maybe she referred to something else?

What does it mean to fight for my life? What am I fighting? And what am I fighting for, exactly?

It brought me back to a qigong healing experience I’d had the previous week.

I’d expected to enter a deep, restful state, as I often do with qigong healing.  Instead, I felt my mind going a mile a minute with ideas for future books, related to my healing experiences.

It felt like a download!

This message, “Fight for Your Life,” felt related to that download about future books.

What am I fighting?

My astrologer friend, Deborah Louth, tells me I am in a new Saturn return and that healing work is becoming more of a focus for my energy. Being of service to people’s healing. Hmm.

That lit up a few bulbs in my brain—no wonder I felt called to study the qigong healer training.

And yet…I’m not a sit still, patient, meditate kind of person. I’m an Aries—in pretty much constant motion. Hmm, Aries is a bit of a warrior, too.

In some ways, the many meditative, mindful practices for qigong healers feel at odds with my constant-motion personality. It’s a bit of a battle between my two natures—the essence that enjoys a peaceful, calm state and the restless Aries warrior personality.

And with the illness, I had little energy for my qigong practices, let alone any regular exercise like walking. On good days, I practiced qigong and walked, but many days, my exercise amounted to emptying the dishwasher and moving puzzle pieces around my dining table.

A part of me gets lazy and isn’t motivated to do anything.

So, maybe I need to fight for the practices that sustain me—the qigong meditations and movement practices, my morning journaling, a daily walk. I need to fight that sabotaging impulse to “be lazy.”

“For Your Life”

What did the Muse mean, “For Your Life”? Is she referring to a fulfilling life? The life I want?

Did she mean literally life or death? A visit to my doctor on Monday confirmed that my digestive issues are on the mend and I could relax. It seemed, perhaps, her message was more about emotional healing, as well as honoring all that my life can be—that I can fight for my purpose, for my creativity, for the habits that sustain me, and committing to the endeavors that make life fulfilling.

These questions get me thinking about what I want in this stage of life.

We’re also living in extraordinary times. It seems a time when dark forces are becoming more visible, both in the external world and in our own shadow self. Humanity seems to be waking up and realizing that we are so much more than we have been taught. And now we seem on a mission to discover what that means. Who are we?

I’ve been sitting with that question, too, especially as I read my qigong master teacher Robert Peng’s new book, The Way of Virtue: Qigong Meditations to Cultivate Perfect Peace in an Imperfect World.

But “Fight”?

I’m a bit taken aback by the word fight, but that’s what the muse used. Fight requires energy; it takes a certain willpower and determination. Commitment.

I’m still sitting with this and I’m not quite sure where it’s taking me, but I’m curious about the meaning—or perhaps multiple meanings—here. And maybe that’s part of the Muse’s intention. Ha!—I was about to write that she won’t spoon-feed me but wants me to feed myself by searching for meaning in her words. [Okay, she may be a part of me, but she’s also working to wake up the rest of me!].  That phrase “spoon feed” reminded me of the weird feeling that she spilled soup on me somewhat intentionally or that she couldn’t feed me the usual spoonful of alphabet soup.

I’ll be sitting with this for a while, I think. Perhaps I will write a few poems and see where the exploration takes me.

I hope you enjoy the guided meditation to meet your Muse. Please share your experience in the comments. How does your muse show up? What does your muse say to you or show you? What insights do you gain?