I'm a writer. I write every day, and that's kind of my work. But there are times... usually when I think I'm done for the day when something shows up... Something amazing just seems to take over and I'm filled with "inspiration." To be clear, we're constantly inspired, and even when the work is hard and difficult, we are still working under inspiration. But this is different.

At some point, it's as if the story is telling me, not the other way around. I'm suddenly just a copyist while the story opens up to me. Are these the muses? Is it the Universe's story breaking in? Is it my mind opening up? I don't know, but I refuse to bastardize that experience by forcing it into an explanation.

I have a friend who, very carefully and respectfully, tussles with his "muse" over timing. His muse likes to show up when he's in traffic and can't act on his ideas. I don't know where these ideas come from, but I'm not going to insult them by claiming it's "just my mind."

I also pray. To who? I don't know. It could be me, it could be that part of my mind that's already at work making decisions beyond my awareness and possess the power to make those changes. I do it because life is mysterious, and I love that mystery. To me, to live, is to play with the mystery. If I try to explain it away or make it "human," I close the book and never get to see how it ends.

My mom, a Christian, uses a phrase, "God spoke to my heart..." I don't, even for a minute, think it was "God," but something touched her. So let her call it God.

And to be honest, I think "God," is our default position. We've been worshiping gods since we became conscious. We're still at the very early stages of transitioning to "reason," providing we, as a species, survive this next century.