"I am convinced that there are universal currents of Divine Thought vibrating the ether everywhere and that any who can feel these vibrations is inspired"

Wagner imagines reality suffused with an intelligent, sacred current, a boundless sea of meaning through which minds drift. “Divine Thought” suggests that ideas are not solely manufactured by isolated egos but encountered, as if the world itself thinks and invites us to listen. The old image of an “ether” becomes poetic shorthand for a medium that carries significance, akin to water conducting waves or air transmitting sound.

Inspiration, then, is resonance. Those who are inwardly attuned feel the world’s subtle tremors and translate them into language, music, action. The artist becomes an instrument rather than a sovereign engineer of novelty. Skill matters, but as a means of tuning; technique polishes the antenna so faint signals can be received without distortion. Such a vision both humbles and dignifies creativity: what comes through you is not merely yours, yet you are uniquely responsible for shaping it with integrity.

“Any who can feel” declares a radical openness. Inspiration is not the privilege of a few anointed souls; it is a capacity of attention and permeability, cultivated through silence, wonder, courage, and a willingness to be moved. Egoic noise blocks reception; receptivity requires surrender. In this light, ethical life and aesthetic life converge: to live well is to be a faithful conductor of what is highest, not a loud amplifier of what is base.

For a composer, the metaphor is exact. Music literalizes vibration, making audible the invisible. When harmony aligns with the world’s “currents,” listeners recognize truth without being told. Modern language might trade “ether” for field, unconscious, or collective mind, but the intuition persists: consciousness is relational. We do not think alone; we think with. Inspiration becomes participation in a larger intelligence, borrowed light that, when rightly carried, becomes a lamp for others.