I was inspired by a charging bull to climb the stock-yard fence very quickly.
I was inspired by falls from bucking horses to stick to them like a clam, stay on for eight seconds and win a few prizes and some money on the rodeo circuit.
I was inspired by falls and burns from motorbikes to ride better and win a few prizes and money on the motorcross circuit.
I was inspired by my love for words to start writing.
I was inspired by my parents’ disdain at their son for continuing to be a writer, to continue to be a writer.
I was inspired by a friend, a graphic designer, telling me I could learn Photoshop. So I did and then created all my own book covers.
I was inspired by 142 rejection slips, from publishers, to publish my own books.
I was inspired by my first rejection from a magazine publisher to keep trying and ended up being a regular writer for that and other magazines, for many years.
I was inspired by people telling me no one could wallpaper a gloss-painted ceiling, to wallpaper a gloss-painted ceiling, which some mistook for a pressed-zinc ceiling.
I was inspired by people telling me only qualified people could do electrical, plumbing and brickwork, to do electrical, plumbing and brickwork in several houses.
I was inspired by my fear of people and my deep shyness to start teaching, something I’ve now been doing for over thirty years.
I was inspired by being asked to travel to South Africa to speak at an international AIDS conference and to co-facilitate AIDS workshops in the townships of the Big Karoo.
I have felt inspired by many people who’ve done compassionate and uplifting things but I’ve never been inspired to perform their particular feats.
So, I’ve realised two things about inspiration:
1. Strangers don’t cut it for me. I’ve only ever been inspired to do anything by experiences and/or people I know, whether they’re good or bad experiences or judgements, and
2. Feeling inspired is a very different thing from doing inspirational things.