Every time I go to lakeshore, I take my notebook and pen. I locate a rock by the shore, place my things down, and sit with my legs dangling over the lake. I open my notebook, uncap my pen, and sit.

Each time, I don’t end up writing anything. I sit mesmerized (and possibly dumbfounded) by the vastness of the lake. Ironically, just this time I am writing—I’m writing this post, which is kind of meta.

Interestingly, I get a load of inspiration while I’m out digesting what nature has to offer. I try to absorb as much of the present moment. I try to feel the breeze as it pulls my hair in front of my eyes. I like to hear the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore. I like to feel the splash of water make its way to my legs.

Through all of this, I converge to stillness; both mentally and physically. Then, the ideas start to come in. Unresolved conflict, thoughts, questions, memories, and ideas all start to magically appear. With them also comes a sense a relief. Almost as though they were trying to appear, but I just hadn’t given them the time to.