Dancing With The Psyche

Lost In The Algorithms — Odyssey # 30

O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung / By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear. Keats's ‘Ode to Psyche’ got me writing this entry. Something about his words mirrors the madness we call life and the muses that light it up.

Life’s pretty much an ode in itself, don’t you think?

A collection of moments, each screaming for its verse. And in the mess, when we least expect to, we often find our muses. They’re not always draped in celestial robes or whispering divine secrets.

Nah, more often than not, they’re the oddities, the ‘might-have-beens,’ the shadows that haunt us writers into the wee hours, pushing us to spill our guts onto the page.

Psyche, to me, is that inner voice. The midnight musings. The spark that comes alive when you least expect it. She’s the heart of every character I’ve ever penned down, every heart-wrenching twist, and every line that felt like a gut punch.

Keats, the old romantic, built Psyche a sanctuary, a haven where she could thrive away from the world’s noise.

And if you’re creative, it’s what you do every time you start a project.

We carve out a sacred space where our souls can run wild and bare our deepest fears and wildest dreams…