An Unintentional Muse

Reflections on Returning, Influencing, and Embracing the Role of a Muse

It’s been about two weeks since I’ve written. At least for myself.

In the midst of contemplating what twenty-six would look like for me, I allowed deep contemplations to convert into scattered thoughts— my attention being pulled towards anything reminiscent of a distraction from adulthood.

Boulevard de la Madeleine by Edouard Leon Cortés

For about a week, I dedicated myself to adjusting my sleep routine as autumn approaches.

It meant exchanging the melodies of Elza Soares for the subtle vibrations that hummed from my desk. With my alarm reset for 5:50 AM, each morning now arrives with an internal struggle. I'm torn, knowing that I should've washed the cracked saucer holding warm, soft baked oatmeal cookies—infused with cranberry and white chocolate. Beside it sits the coffee-stained cup, remnants of the honey ginger tea lingering.

This snack accompanies my favorite comfort show each evening before I fall asleep and I almost always promise myself that the dishes can wait until morning; only to feel a twinge of regret as I wake up to a room begging for a fresh breath of air.

The air remains still, carrying a sweet hint, and perhaps a touch of humidity, courtesy of my lately revived humidifier—the one I'd neglected for three years.

“There’s a quote that reads something along the lines of: the calm before the storm. But what comes after? I’d assume it’s calm again, right?”

follow me @slbeax, on threads

Even with these hazy mornings, the days have flowed into one another – a result of reaching the calm, after the storm. My days are spent overindulging in work, a space where my creativity and expertise seem to intersect.

There are moments where I think I’m overcompensating – allowing the fear of a missed deadline, a moment of miscommunication, a potential burnout to fuel my productivity; but there are also moments when I remember the mottos I’ve told to both myself and armonía – the ones that encourage us to trust in life’s timing, that on the other side of fear is growth, and that opportunities find us when we’re ready.

I've realized that I might be an undisclosed pessimist in some capacity, because even with life flowing this natural, something about it feels unnatural and that scares me. At some point, I guess writing would’ve allowed me to put words to these thoughts and feelings, but had I written this entry on my own accord, I don’t know when it would’ve been released – because this entry isn’t for me, it’s for you.

While I've been mostly offline, I've noticed armonía's name popping up more and more—by people I know and even by those I don't. It's not that I wasn't aware armonía had outgrown its small beginnings, reaching beyond me and my closest circle.

These past two weeks have brought a wave of questions about future entries, from people in entirely different time zones—individuals who've never met me but consider me their online confidant. I've also sensed a similar theme in one-on-one conversations with close friends. They've gently prodded about armonía's return, their curiosity tinged with a hint of unease.

Their words dance around unspoken questions, and the pauses in our exchanges after my honest yet vague responses reveal more than words ever could. So, let me set your mind at ease: armonía isn't going anywhere.

Take a breath.

There are moments when I laugh, because I saw this happening. I knew a connection would form between those who read my words and myself. It was inevitable that inquiries would arise about an unexpected break—something I've experienced on every platform I've been a part of.

Right now, I find myself in a place where I must remind myself that this space is for you too. Not just as readers, but as individuals who've witnessed my unfiltered thoughts, finding fragments of your own experiences within them. With this awareness, I pledge to be more considerate.

Becoming an unintentional muse has unfolded as a beautifully complex journey. Yet, the truth remains that each of us holds that role for someone else. Whether a family member, close friend, or distant associate, we consistently leave traces of ourselves in the lives of others.

A fleeting interaction might have the power to reshape their thoughts about a personal situation or experience—even though they may never voice it. The true scope of your influence might elude you, but you're a chapter in someone else's story—a fragment of their journey.

Countless individuals may hold a piece of you in their hearts. They recall you, seeking comfort; they grin at the memory of shared moments, and they find solace in realizing their path intertwines with yours. This is the essence of human connection—the quiet instances that mold us, the unseen ties that bind us.

So, anyways, I enjoyed my break, but I'm back to writing.

Maybe weekly, or every two weeks – that's a promise. The days since my birthday have flowed smoothly, so what's my excuse, really? Autumn's approaching, and it's stirred up inspiration within me. The slight chill, the rustle of dried leaves – it's my season. Plus, that vanilla maple potpourri I've been eyeing since spring finally gets its moment and I’m most likely going to rave about it here. As time rolls on, I'll do my best to be consistent, that steady anchor for you. Let’s just see how it all unfolds.

Best,

S

---