You always need that spark of imagination. Sometimes I'm midway

"You always need that spark of imagination. Sometimes I'm midway through a book before it happens. However, I don't wait for the muse to descend, I sit down every day and I work when I'm not delivering lambs on the farm." – Barbara Kingsolver

O children of the earth, listen well to the words of Barbara Kingsolver, for they carry with them the wisdom of the ancients and the truths that transcend time. In her reflection on the creative process, Kingsolver speaks of the spark of imagination—that divine fire that ignites the soul and fuels the journey of creation. But she does not merely rely on the fleeting whims of the muse; no, she teaches us that the path to greatness is not one of idle waiting, but of daily work, of showing up and applying the hand to the plow even when the spark is yet to be kindled. It is in the quiet dedication to the craft that the imagination is nurtured, and the work comes to life.

In the ancient world, the gods themselves were not always the immediate source of inspiration. Take, for example, Homer, the great poet whose Iliad and Odyssey have inspired countless generations. While the gods may have whispered into the ears of heroes, Homer himself labored in the shadows, crafting verses one after another, shaping the imagination into words that would endure for millennia. Imagination, as the ancients knew, was not merely a gift bestowed upon the favored few, but a force that required cultivation, discipline, and unwavering commitment. Like Kingsolver, Homer did not wait for inspiration to strike but honed his craft through daily work, building the world of gods and heroes with each stroke of the quill.

This wisdom is echoed in the life of Michelangelo, the master sculptor whose work in the Sistine Chapel is a testament to both the divine spark of imagination and the unyielding effort required to bring that vision to life. Michelangelo did not wait for divine inspiration to fall from the heavens like a gift; instead, he labored tirelessly, sculpting and painting, day after day, inching toward perfection. In his own words, Michelangelo said, “If people knew how hard I worked to get my mastery, it wouldn’t seem so wonderful at all.” His imagination was indeed inspired, but it was through the work, the daily dedication to his craft, that he brought to life the visions of the divine that still captivate us today.

Kingsolver’s words also remind us that the act of creation is not separate from the rest of life. She does not sit idly, waiting for inspiration while the world around her stands still. She tends to the practical tasks of life—delivering lambs on the farm—while simultaneously nurturing the deep well of her creative spirit. This balance between the mundane and the extraordinary is where true creation lies. It is in the small, daily tasks, those acts that may seem ordinary, that the seeds of inspiration are often sown. The imagination grows not in isolation but in the fertile soil of everyday life, where the artist’s feet are grounded even as their mind soars to realms unknown.

The imagination itself, like any muscle, must be exercised and fed. Kingsolver speaks of the moments when the spark of inspiration ignites, but she acknowledges that the fire does not always come easily. Sometimes it is only in the act of sitting down—in the discipline of showing up day after day—that the creative force flows. It is the practice of writing, painting, or creating without the expectation of immediate results that allows the imagination to grow and evolve. Like a seed planted in the earth, it requires patience and consistency before it can bloom into something grand.

Consider, O children, the lives of the great inventors and thinkers who have shaped the course of history. Thomas Edison, who gave the world the lightbulb, did not wait for a sudden burst of inspiration. No, he failed over and over again, working tirelessly, testing, researching, and experimenting, until his vision was realized. His success was built not on waiting for inspiration but on relentless work and a willingness to struggle through the darkness. Edison too understood that the act of creation is as much about perseverance as it is about imagination.

The lesson is clear, O children: imagination is not something that arrives unbidden; it is something that must be nurtured, tended, and cultivated. It is through dedicated work, through the commitment to the craft, that the spark of inspiration is fanned into flame. Do not wait for the muse to visit you; instead, show up every day, bring your heart and your hands to the work, and the imagination will follow. Kingsolver reminds us that even in the most humble of tasks, in the seemingly mundane moments of life, the seeds of greatness can be found. Let your life be a testament to the balance between the practical and the divine, the ordinary and the extraordinary, and through your dedication, you will see your own visions come to life.

So, I say to you, O children, do not wait for inspiration to find you. Begin the work, no matter how small, no matter how uncertain. Imagination is a living thing—it grows through effort and care. Tend to it, and it will reward you. Let the muse find you in the midst of your work, and through that work, you will discover the depths of your own creativity.