“Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears.” ― Albert Camus

There are days writing when everything comes slowly, like a chore we didn’t want to do and resented each step until completion, when we felt the surprising satisfaction of having finished it. Today began with distraction and chores and not much thought at all to writing. These are the moments when you just have to begin and see where it takes you. The muse, having felt ignored, eventually concedes that you’re back again.

I know that some of my best work falls flat when it’s published. What resonates with me doesn’t resonate with most people, just as the things that are popular—pop songs, fashion, celebrity gossip—don’t resonate with me. This is only problematic if I want to linger in such circles, or have my creative work become popular. When we follow our own path sometimes we’re shocked by the solitude, but find the path far more to our liking. We ought to go our own way, if only to see where it leads us.

Creativity leads to more inspired living, just as more inspired living feeds creativity. There’s nothing new in this idea, but isn’t it good to remind ourselves now and then that this path is ours for a reason? Make it beautiful and share it. Whether others deem it beautiful is beside the point. Creative living is a habit just like anything else. We live and learn and grow and share, then repeat it again tomorrow. Incrementally, something beautiful may indeed emerge from our life’s work.