Last night before I went to bed I heard an owl hooting. Since my house is surrounded by forest, this is a normal occurrence. The difference was that I listened.
This owl reminded me of an improvising musician. Its basic theme went like this:
It experimented with several variations, and with each it seemed more and more pleased with itself. The hooting got increasingly enthusiastic. I was reminded of Walt Whitman’s, “Song of Myself”:
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
That’s the beauty of creativity. When we connect to the pure knowing of our inner beings, what we express has the potential to transform the world.