The creative urge is a wondrous thing. Bringing something into being that wasn't anything at all before is, well, miraculous. Though my creations are constructed of words and not cells and chromosomes, I feel a little in awe of the results. Not because they are good... I can see their faults and weaknesses. But because they came from in me. That story, that poem, that fragment, or vignette was in me and I brought it out. It took its form through me.
Awe inspiring and humbling all at once.
In one of the Peter Wimsey books, Harriet Vane explains to Peter that she understands her new husband's responsibility to use his gifts of solving crimes, just as a man with great strength uses his skill to help people, or a skilled healer helps people get well. Peter's insight and logic are his noblesse oblige. Peter turns around and tells Harriet that her ability to write entertaining stories is her noblesse oblige. Her gift is also valuable, a contribution to the quality of life of those she shares the gift with.
That, too, is rather awe inspiring and humbling.
It's time to dig up some old ideas I've got resting in a WIP file and set them free.
My thanks to KR for the prompts and suggestions!
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