Last week a friend called to say she had a feeling that something new and exciting was happening in my life. When she asked if it was a new book deal, I scoffed and said, “I wish.”

I had been wrestling with two months of frustration and at times lack of hope around my ability to stay motivated to be my own self-employed cheer leader. The successes I’ve had were dwarfed and all that loomed ahead as giant mountains were things I had not yet achieved and the fear that I never would.

I was tired of giving myself pep talks. I was tired of spending years on books that may or may not ever become an entity off of my computer. And, I was tired of the constant cycle of putting my work out there (which is akin to my heart) only to hear nothing in response.

On the low of low of these days, I’d search Craigslist.com jobs, only to become even more depressed because after nine years of being self-employed, I am unemployable. I shared this with my no-nonsense Buddhist friend, and she said, “Dude, but you’re a writer. That’s what you have to do.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m just sick of inspiring myself. I inspire other people all day. I wish I had someone who would do that for me.”

That night, I got my wish. I went to see a viewing of “Who Does She Think She Is?” produced by Pamela Tanner Boll ("Born into Brothels"), about five women’s struggle with balancing their creativity and motherhood, independence with partnerships and of course, how to get paid for their work in a society that doesn’t compensate (especially female) artists.

I sat in my uncomfortable folding chair riveted by everything the women said. Chills ran down my back every time I heard them say, “I have to do this. It makes me a better mother and person to be able to create.”

I practically floated out of the building, once again feeling inspired to continue telling my story and hoping to motivate others to keep following their dreams as well. Because that’s what I do.

The next night I went to see the Cowboy Junkies play with a friend. We got lost along the way, the venue was in an area of Washington that I have never been to and nowhere near Seattle, but I was listening to the ethereal voice of the Cowboy Junkies' Margot in my car all the while, so thoughts of, “Where the hell are we, and how am I ever going to find my way home?” merely drifted in and quickly drifted out as I calmly kept driving.

We arrived as she was singing her first song, found our seats right up in front and were mesmerized for the next hour and a half. Not just by her brings-tears-to-my-eyes voice, but by her as a person. She humbly chatted with the audience in between songs, poked fun at the other band members and referred to them as “boys” over and over again, and invited us to “stick around and chat” after the show.

Really, I thought. She’s going to hang out with us? But she’s so famous?

True to her word, she came out in her pajamas and talked with the audience. She was so friendly and accessible that I hugged her when I approached her. How intimidating can a braless, scrubbed face, pajama-clad woman be?

We chatted about our sons, my friend took a blurry picture of us with our arms around one another, and I grasped her hand again as I said good-bye.

The giddy, in-love feeling stayed with me even while being pulled over by a cop for driving erratically (did I mention I had no idea where I was?), for the hour-plus drive back to Seattle (thanks to the cop for drawing me a map and not giving me a ticket), and for days to follow.

Not only do I feel levitated and inspired by these fabulous women and their perseverance, amazing accomplishments and non-ego-driven attitudes, but I also feel as if I have a few safety nets.

The next time I cycle into a ho-hum self-pity party, I’ll listen to Margo’s CD or watch the film again. And if that doesn’t work, I can always give up being a writer and become a roadie for the Cowboy Junkies.

Corbin Lewars (www.corbinlewars.com) is a writing mentor, the founder of Reality Mom (www.realitymomzine.blogspot.com) and author of "Creating a Life" and the forthcoming "After Glow." She teaches memoir and personal essay writing classes and will be part of the Ballard Author event at Sunset Hill Community Center Oct. 19.