046 | Rinse and Repeat
First Meeting with My Muse
Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.
Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going.
I step out every day with a racing mind,
When I step up on stage, leave the world behind.1
At last my soul is fully unchained.
That’s it. Sin é.2 Now you know me by name.
I’m a sensible edible, I’m chill and tame.
Call me Thought Brownie3, I quite like the name.
Chose it all by myself, when I took a bite of a coffee shop brownie.
Amsterdam?
Right.
A light switched on and blinded my mind,
Out came a thought that transformed my life.
The thought came from HER.
Yup, that’s what SHE said.
Suspend disbelief. Let’s go straight ahead.
Some words that flow, that feel just right?
That’s not just me. No, no. Not quite.
The lines that sound the most profound,
those bars emerge when she is around.
She is my Muse4, She guides my hand.
You might be amused, might not understand5.
She whispers her words straight into my soul.
My heart, my mind, my body made whole.
Remember that Brownie?
When I took a bite, my Muse appeared.
She said - “Go write.”
I said, “Why not go left?”
“Ha ha”, she smirked.
She gave me a pen and she said, “Get to work!”
I said, “Writing is pain, writing is strife, it feels inane.”
My Muse replied and said,
“Writing is pain, writing is strife,
yet whenever you write, you change your life.”
Whenever you write, dear reader, you change your life.
“Write a page.
Write a poem.
Write a chapter.
Write a tome.
You’ll feel less alone, wherever you roam.
Words light up the way, and someday guide you home.
Tell it like a story.
Or set it to a beat.
Words numb your pain in the jaws of defeat.
Make every tribulation seem ever so sweet.
You and your words are enough. You’re complete.
Show up everyday.
Rinse and repeat.
Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.
Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going.”
My Muse kissed my forehead, and vanished in the mist.
Words have power. They are Her gift.
I hope you’re convinced that the Muse exists.
Do you think my thoughts alone came up with this shit?
My track Pale Blue Dot has the words “through new points of view, leave the world behind”. I’m making a reference to my own track here. Self-indulgent much?
In Irish “Sin é” (pronounced shin ayy) translates to “That’s it!”.
Sin é is also the name of the pub I perform at every Tuesday for 20 minutes.
I learnt this from Sufi poets who dropped their own names into their writing. I’ve since not missed a chance to bring up my own name. Not for braggadocio, mostly to be self-deprecating or to acknowledge that what I am sharing is from my perspective and that YMMV.
Making art is an exercise in cutting myself down to size. No permission. No ego. It feels like the best lines that I have written show up when I least expect it. While taking a walk. While in the shower. While I am reading a book. When I’m meditating. Turns out, plenty of artists attribute their creation to something inexplicable that goes far beyond something within themselves.
Rick Rubin calls it the “Source”. Steven Pressfield calls the source of inspiration his Muse. I like the idea of the Muse.
Someone all-powerful watching over my artistic journey and choosing to help me when I show up to help myself.
You might be amused. Might not understand. A past version of Hari would’ve felt the same way and scoffed at what 2026 Hari is thinking, feeling, saying and doing.