Lamentations of an English Major

Today I took a little drive down to one of my old stomping grounds... the campus in which I passed my first two years of college. Six Years ago now. That is ridiculous. Am I really that old? 

I was driving with my brother and we were discussing writing and ideas. Mentioning that I didn’t know what I was going to write about today he told me, “write about us and how awesome we are and how I am more awesome than you” (that is verbatim by the way). The nerve of him.

I am not going to sit here and write about how awesome we are (though we do have our moments). 

Our trip today brought to my remembrance those wonderful days in college. The professor gives you an assignment and you have no idea how you are going to do it or what you are going to write about… and yet somehow when the day comes you do it. Creativity born of necessity. Why can’t I just conjure that up at any given moment?

All through college I was asked if I wanted to be a teacher. No I didn’t. English just made sense for me. I wanted to read and write all the time.

I chose to major in English because I felt like I had inspiration just welling up inside of me constantly. I was inspired by songs, books, movies, quotes, nature, even moments. Overcome by this sensation, I would sit at the computer for hours, agonizing over all of the wonderful things I had to say but couldn’t find the words.

Not much has changed. I still agonize over the ideas. I still feel that inspiration struggling to find its way to the page. 

Only now the professor isn’t directing me.  I may not be given an assignment from an external source, but internally I am going to continue to struggle with the inspiration until it can no longer be contained inside me. 

How about you? What are you inspired to do?