"The only thing I can say is that it takes place-or the best of it takes place-in a sort of vacuum. On the worst of mornings. On the least likely of mornings. When you expect nothing to happen. When the page is blank. When the mind is blank. Even in a state of depression or melancholia. And, then, only with good luck...
Oh, don't misunderstand me. I think you have to be sitting there. You have to 'wait' in good faith. You have to go to work like anyone else, or I do anyway. I have to go to work at nine o'clock. And in that sense you force it. You've got to start in some way...You have to have a routine and live up to it and then hope for the best." - Walker Percy
He's talking about writing, a truly difficult process. But this applies to all of life.
It takes that faith of waiting, which seems to be much of life: waiting for love, for creativity, for realization of dreams, for change, for security, and so on. Sometimes these things come, sometimes they do not. Sometimes the waiting is days, sometimes years. I hate waiting and yet find the process has been transformative in so many situations. Like working towards love and marriage with Dan. It took years for my heart to be fully ready... much pain and soul searching to get there (and saintliness on Dan's part in staying with me for years while I was uncertain). But in the end, marriage has been a wild celebration of the best years of our relationship. It's been the freest, safest, most healing, holistic time of my life and I know it's because of all the groundwork laid... and because of who Dan is, which is oh, so right for me.
I am thankful daily for the rewards of waiting. Would that I remember this when I am stuck in that agonizing, hellish process again (as I have been for fifteen years now in terms of my creativity and calling).
In the meantime, I guess I'll show up, as Percy says. I'll start so that I am there when something happens.