One of my favorite quotes is from Picasso: “Inspiration exists, but it must find you working.”
I have returned to that idea many times because it holds something important. Inspiration is not always a lightning bolt. More often, it is something we notice, respond to, and work with. It asks for attention. It asks for participation.
Not long ago, inspiration came to me through a simple and honest question from my son. He said, “Mom, why don’t you finish what you start? Every time I sit down to use your computer, I find so many windows open. You have lots of great ideas. Why don’t you just finish them?”
His words stayed with me.
At first, I felt the sting of being seen so clearly. Then, as I sat with it, I realized he was asking something true. Why didn’t I finish what I started? Why was I so often full of ideas, yet slow to bring them to completion?
As I reflected more deeply, I found that his question had touched something essential. It did not just challenge me. It inspired me. It called me back into accountability. It stirred a renewed sense of purpose and a desire to follow through more fully on what matters to me.
That is part of what inspiration does. It wakes us up. It helps us see something we had been overlooking. Sometimes it arrives through beauty, art, nature, or a quiet moment alone. Other times, it comes through a conversation, a question, or an unexpected truth spoken by someone we love.
This is why it matters to ask yourself whether you are paying attention. Are you listening to your life? Are you tuned in to what moves you, stirs you, or quietly calls you forward? Or have you become so caught in thought, pressure, and routine that you have stopped noticing?
Inspiration often asks us to come back into relationship with ourselves. It invites us out of mental noise and into something more alive. It reconnects us with curiosity, creativity, and desire. It reminds us that life is not only about managing responsibilities. It is also about responding to what lights us up from within.
When I sit down to write, I am often inspired by the possibility of sharing a perspective that might help someone feel seen, understood, or more connected to themselves. That hope, the hope to resonate and connect, continues to move me. It gives shape to the work.
I also think of the farmers I grew up around. Many of them were rough on the outside, yet deeply connected to the land and to what they could grow. There was something honest and steady in that. What I learned from them is that inspiration is not always loud. Sometimes it looks like devotion. Sometimes it looks like showing up again and again for what you care about.
In many ways, inspiration is the seed of creativity. When we lose touch with it, life can start to feel flat, mechanical, or overly practical. However, when we stay connected to what inspires us, even in simple ways, something opens. Energy returns. Meaning deepens. We begin to feel more alive.
If you are trying to find inspiration, begin by noticing what genuinely moves you. Pay attention to what gives you energy, what captures your attention, and what lingers in your mind for good reason. Then, instead of waiting for the perfect moment, take one small step toward it.
Inspiration is everywhere. Yet it asks us to be present enough to receive it and courageous enough to respond.
So be inspired. Let it take you deeper. And then bring something back to share.
