I sat alone in a brick-walled building. The sun shone in the window so brightly it would blind me if I turned my head. The waterfalls danced and glistened in my periphery on the other side of the glass. Adele sang perfection overhead, her words not meaning nearly as much as the emotion behind them. The warmth from that blinding sun coupled with a tender melody and simple, yet grand, backdrop gave me just enough comfort to relax but not quite fall asleep. These are the thin places where something divine seeps into the daily.
Inspiration is not an illusion.
Some will tell you it doesn't exist, that you just have to get up and get to work. I kindly disagree.