Inspiration is an interesting thing. Interesting in that the most innocuous, ephemeral or intangible thing can motivate someone to do greater things. It's also interesting because it's intensely personal, as I found out while reading our feature on editors, where we asked them to cite their top 10 influences (pg. 30).

Though each editor was represented in point-form with minimal explanation for each inspiration, the resultant list spoke volumes about each person - their general age, their values, the pop-cultural leanings. And everything from chaos theory and speed chess, to fathers, friends, music and New York City came in as inspirational forces.

So it got me thinking about my inspirations, because in all honesty, who thinks about that kind of stuff without being prodded. Sadly, these thoughts came to mind as I lay in bed. And since our brains are not equipped with a port in which to insert a flash drive and download the 'pure gold' I was thinking at the time, much of it is lost to the slumber gods.

But the one thing that resonated with me was how I always get goosebumps and a lump in my throat when I hear the Canadian national anthem. Which is ridiculous, because I'm hardly an ardent patriot, and I'm not actually a fan of the anthem as a standalone tune. But there's something about a stadium of people singing together that moves me - dare I say, inspires me - which makes me look like an ass when, beer in hand, I'm blinking back the tears at a ball game.

A further look into what makes me stand up and take notice revealed that genuine, raw and uplifting human moments would have to be what I connect with - like the moment an argument is revealed as masked or ill-communicated fears, or how one of my best friends quit her lucrative career to follow dreams.

While pondering my inspirations, I also realized something else. In the midst of a busy week, I had stopped thinking about work, if only for a moment. Which strikes me as particularly important for a group of people like editors, who spend much of their time in dark rooms. It'd probably be a good idea for the rest of you workaholics as well, for that matter.

So I suggest you take some time and step off the hamster wheel - for just a little while. Think about what matters to you and what keeps you going. Think about what makes you smile. You'll be glad you did.

Cheers,
Rae Ann Fera
Acting Editor/Associate Editor