"You will ask me where I get my ideas. That I cannot tell you with certainty; they come unsummoned, directly, indirectly,--I could seize them with my hands,--out in the open air; in the woods; while walking; in the silence of the nights; early in the morning; incited by moods, which are translated by the poet into words, by me into tones that sound, and roar and storm about me until I have set them down in notes."
These rich words come from Beethoven upon the subject of his inspiration. One picture that is evoked from these words is the fact that inspiration is everywhere all around, and it's always in motion. Ideas, thoughts, emotions, and words are constantly swirling around and a genius like Beethoven will pull down just the right combination to put together a masterpiece that makes men marvel.
I suppose we write our lives in a similar manner. Our final selection a culmination of our choices. Once written it cannot be erased. I don't know if I have the capacity for a masterpiece. That is a weight I don't think I could bear under the faultiness of my own emotion, thoughts, ideas, and choices.
But I do believe my song has already been penned with such beauty and perfection my human understanding cannot even imagine it.
So I guess my job is to know the Creator, because His song is my song. Then the choices I make out of the swirling countless possibilities will be pulled down from the heavens themselves, their divine nature overriding my own faulty humanity. And that will be a masterpiece.
And so we are composing our life song, one note at a time. We should write it well.
*(And you can thank the tag line to my blog, the quote I came across, and the general fog that is Monday for the random subterranean post today.)
I suppose we write our lives in a similar manner. Our final selection a culmination of our choices. Once written it cannot be erased. I don't know if I have the capacity for a masterpiece. That is a weight I don't think I could bear under the faultiness of my own emotion, thoughts, ideas, and choices.
But I do believe my song has already been penned with such beauty and perfection my human understanding cannot even imagine it.
So I guess my job is to know the Creator, because His song is my song. Then the choices I make out of the swirling countless possibilities will be pulled down from the heavens themselves, their divine nature overriding my own faulty humanity. And that will be a masterpiece.
And so we are composing our life song, one note at a time. We should write it well.
*(And you can thank the tag line to my blog, the quote I came across, and the general fog that is Monday for the random subterranean post today.)
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