Behind the Scenes of my Creative Process

Mykael, I heard your voice today… coaxing me to just take my typewriter along… I walked to the local bakery to write my blog… and I heard you encouraging me.

I parked at the table that I have claimed as “mine”.  (Every time I land here at the bakery, I scope out all the possible perches available to me… feel into sitting at each one of them.  And infalliably, this same table beckons me.  The same chair whispers a covert come hither to my modest and soft bottom.)  Golly gee whiz, did I feel shy to pull out the old faithful, vintage blessing machine just now.  There were so many people around, nibbling and sipping and engaging in the sensual slow lane of existence.  One of the reasons that I love writing so much is that it provides the perfect space for both my exuberant exhibitionist and my shy, sensitive hermit to harmoniously coexist.  (Most of the time)  But busting out the Smith Corona is like flashing a neon sign that says LOOK AT ME!

Eeeeeek.  But also not.  Immediately this radiant woman at the table next to me took interest in my archaic treasure.  I told her that I was offering poems by donation.  Without hesitation she said she wanted one for her sister who was turning sixty next month!  Yahoo!  I LOVE sixty year olds!  I’m serious.  I DO.  Both my mama and my papa turned sixty recent-ish-ly… and since that pivotal rite of passage, my relationship with each of them has flowered, fruited and flourished!  I find them both to be abounding with wisdom and a ripened rendition of surrender to who they are and their respective places in this earthy sphere of the cosmos…

All that to say that I eagerly chomped at my bit to be set free to honor this Goddess Sister of my freshly harvested radiant customer… whose name was Satya (Which means truth in ummm… Sanskrit, is it?).  Satya was clearly adept at sharing from her heart.  She dove right in and spoke of her sister’s unique beauty and divine specialness.  And she told me that above all else, she wished peace of mind and peace of heart for her beloved kin.  I didn’t have to work or dig at all to get to the meaty, essential heart of the matter.  (Though, truth be told, I am just as happy to dig… I’ll meet people where they are… Still it’s refreshing when another soul is adept at the art of spilling open.)

I have to laugh at my creative process.  I really try to get out of the way.  To be a humble servant.  To refrain from judgment and simply take good notes as the All Pervading Poet spews loving words and decadent metaphors into my mind.  But I must admit that my cumbersome, frightened and sometimes rusty hinged mind oft does not surrender without a good fight.  During the conception of some poems, nearly every line I flush with the poison of self criticism and doubt.  But so what!?  I will not be stopped by the pathetic, yapping Chihuahua that is my small self.  I have All Pervading Fish to fry.  Then, when a poem is done… I have a moment of simultaneous relief and panic… When I read it aloud to the recipient, will the glory of God pour prismatically from between the letters and lines? …Or will the rotten tomatoes fly?

Mostly I read them and relax into the satisfaction of a job well done.  It’s kind of like baking the queen’s wedding cake… I may be an excellent baker… but there’s always that chance that the oven temperature could be off… or goblins could sneak into the kitchen while it’s cooling and stomp their terrible feet frivolously about in the pink, spongy expression of childhood heaven… Ya dig?  What I’m getting at is that even in the face of the highest Grace, life is still but an unpredictable and wondrous ocean, and sometimes that means mess and death and rotten poems.  But the important thing, of course, is NOT THE FRUIT… is it Shri Krishna?  Nope, says our favorite flute playing, chariot driving, cow herding blue man… It’s all in the spirit of the offering.  I only intend to amplify the LOVE that sings me into Holy Existence.

And that’s the truth.  Pbthhhht.

Amen.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    Sep 21, 2010 @ 07:30:05

    Oh, I love you. Yes and yes, and yes to all of the above and the glory of your expression.
    Glory is one of my favorite words by the way. I like it as a name and a noun.
    You bring it, baby.
    Love you still.

    Reply

  2. souldipper
    Sep 21, 2010 @ 14:03:39

    May you bake many wedding cakes for the Queen. When they fall, serve them in stemware crystal and pour chocolate over them!

    Love you to bits.

    Reply

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