This Morning I Was Inspired By a Plastic Bowl
What is inspiration anyway? Is it something or someone that figuratively picks you up, dusts you off and forces you back into the throws of life? That hands you the pen to write? That places your canvas on its easel and invites you to paint? Do we really need the inspiration to create? Or is the lack of this so-called “inspiration” just an excuse to sit idle and do nothing, to stare at a blank page and refuse to write, to sit in silence and refuse to sing? This morning I was inspired, by a red and black plastic bowl.
The plastic bowl sat there on the white kitchen countertop, still and silent, empty and fearless. I stood there in silence, assessing the color, shape and texture of the red and black plastic bowl, embossed, patterned edges and smooth inside and out. Simple, yet eye-catching, it inspired me to spend time reflecting before I grabbed my morning hot cocoa to sit down at my laptop and write my usual routine.
Instead, I sat outside on the grass, a moment of introspection, reflection. Time-consuming but necessary, a simplistic, yet intricate experience that I needed more than ever. Intricate because I sat there and delved deep into the recesses of my mind this morning. I sat there and took a long walk through the hallways of the past few months, the past years. That moment, this morning, gave me clarity. Like clear water, I felt somewhat fresh, like taking another morning shower, clean.
The red and black plastic bowl was empty but stood on its own without fear of being judged. The lessons learned from this red and black plastic bowl this morning were that fear of judgement keeps you stuck, standing still, in one place refusing to move, unable to break free. The bowl is still and silent but it feels no fear, it just is, it doesn’t think too much, it just lives.
The red and black plastic bowl made me remember why I stopped caring about judgement from friends, family and every other person who happens to stumble across my work. The fear or judgement actually stopped me from creating art when I had the burning desire to create more. The fear of judgement prevented me from releasing my first book when I knew I had it in me to write it and release it. I did it in the end, but it took me years. The fear of judgement has stopped me from being myself, totally and unapologetically.
No more, I am the red plastic bowl, fearless and complete just the way I am. I sit here still, silent without care, loud when I want to be, quiet when I need to be. I am me, and I hope that you are content with being you.
Red, plastic bowl, thank you.