Beauty and the Muse of Bittersweet“When all else fails, make beauty.”
— Martin Prechtel In the global unraveling and turbulence of 2026, ruled by the galloping intensity of a rare Fire Horse year, those of us who struggle to keep the dignity and possibility of the human spirit in tact are bound between the bitter and the sweet. The question comes up daily: How do we stay inspired, keep our hearts and minds open on the Path? “Seek beauty, avoid unnecessary suffering,” my teacher Lee famously declared. Beauty is closely linked with the mysterious swell of inspiration and inner joy. The Celts had a powerful word for inspiration—Awen, which comes through a direct connection with the Divine. The flow of inspiration tempers our lives, brings floods of joy, reveals pathway of resilience and wisdom through the bittersweetness of our experience. Awen is the doorway through which our personal Muse calls to us. In ancient Greece, inspiration came from the Mousa, “the Muse”—specifically, the nine Muses. The ancients personified them as the daughters of Zeus (Jupiter) and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. Each one of the nine Muses was beautiful to behold and wonderfully gifted. They inspired human beings with their songs, dances, and poetry as well as their gifts of the arts and sciences. Over time, mousa migrated into Latin as musa, filtering down to us today as the Muse, a guiding genius within. How do we keep faith with the Muse of our own souls? We know these ancient goddesses or primordial energies as states of being that come and go. Musa, or the giver of inspiration, is found at the roots of English words that describe our familiar world … like music, museum, amuse. By connotation, the Muse is connected to wonder, marvel, awe, dream, daydream, memory, and imagination. And what about other words connected to muse, like must and muster? The Muse gives us intuition, reverie, pondering, contemplation ... and then she asks us to put it into action. The creative urge is found in the underpinnings of the familiar sense of, “I must,” meaning that there is a sudden surge—something I have to do. It’s about having necessity, which is vital to bringing our inspirations to life through action. The necessity of “I must” circles back around to the verb, to muster: to gather one’s forces to show, reveal, display or demonstrate. To muster our energies requires intention and focus, two of the most essential ingredients that propel us on the Path. My teacher, Lee, used to say that transformation happens inside the individual in the process of a creative act that yearns toward beauty. Though the final product may be glorious and beautiful, the real value for our being is in the moment of inspiration, when we are moved to act. The Muse calls us to be honest and real in what we feel, ponder, and wonder about; then, she calls us into action. In November 2020 I turned seventy. The pandemic had arrived in a time of great upheaval—radical times when we had to learn new pathways through unknown territory. The pandemic was many things; it provoked me to learn, in a new way, how to transform fear and anxiety into creativity and inner growth. Today, the struggle with seemingly insurmountable and hopeless conditions has not abated. Can these deeply troubling times be the very conditions that connect me with beauty and provide fuel for the path of inner transformation? This ordeal of transformation is the backbone of every grand story of Life. It begins with an insoluble problem—something that is out of your hands—and a breaking down, a dissolution of the status quo. It may appear as a crack in your reality, inner and outer. Maybe it has been there all along, hidden in potential. Maybe something totally unexpected occurs…a shock delivered by fate. That familiar jitter on the edge of awareness, the surge of anxiety and even panic is the moment when paying attention is most urgent. Fight it and the pain only gets worse. Fight it and we remain stuck. The secret alchemy of bittersweet has much to teach us. During the pandemic I learned that something relaxed in me when I was present with emotions like anxiety and fear. It’s threshold work. Poised in an in-between state, teeming thoughts of doom and dread dissolved, doorways beckoned and tender green shoots grew out of nowhere. I discovered that the Muse loves nothing more than my surrender into the creative act. Doorways to beauty appear in many ways. To walk through the door to the open field where the Muse stands calling, we often must let go of our concepts. For example, let go of the idea that you must be an artist before you can draw a picture, or you must be a trained vocalist before you can sing. Lovingly kiss your wounded self-worth, the very drive behind all that striving for attainment and perfection. My piano is over a hundred years old, made in Germany and solid as stone with a beautiful, soulful sound. When I sit down to play, I feel the spirit of my great grandmother and namesake, Maria Magdalena, an accomplished classical musician, come near. Although I have the limitation of playing “by ear” and have no clue how to read sheet music, I’ve discovered that my bittersweet melodies nourish my soul and the souls of my ancestors. They are even—dare I say it?—beautiful. They exist for the moment without any motive for a result or accomplishment, and then they are gone. Instead of saying no when the Muse beckons you with an urge to draw, paint, cook, sing or hammer out a creative idea, just do it anyway. Everyone can sing to vast space, to the air, the trees, the sky. The primal elements of creation welcome our voices. Life loves our creations of beauty in words, images, gardens, paintings, food or imaginative art rock, such as my husband Thomas makes. It’s a fact that the vagus nerve—which calms the body and reduces stress—is activated when we hum. Just humming a tune, any tune or melody, enhances our well-being, creating a moment when we can pause and relax, accessing deep inner resources of resilience and strength. But too often, the mind protests. It’s too simple, it’s too silly, it’s too… And besides, I’m not a singer and I’m too busy for this nonsense! Why not just let go, open up, and give it a try? The Muse is not limited by space or time, concept, definition, or circumstance. Act on your creative urge and the Muse shows up with a kiss and a smile. Above all, she appreciates humility and sincerity. She rejoices in the free flow of your life force. Loving my limitations and even the voices that hold me back, I become my own best witness of how the Muse wants me to unfold. Each time I let go at the brink of “I must create” and go beyond is a moment of beauty and even prayer. What is left after the Muse has had her way with me is gratitude and the lingering rasa of Grace. – Mary Angelon Young
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