My god . . . really?

On the drive to Lincoln Milt and I (as usual) spent hours talking about life.  We were trying to decide the next steps for our co-creative process.  We have some bread and butter projects on the table, but it has been a long time since we put our creative energies into the same pot.  I want to start playing.  We were talking about what we would want to learn if we were going to learn something totally new–it is important for a healthy brain to be learning new stuff.

I really had to think.  I want to relearn to ice skate.  I’ve been dabbling (very badly) with watercolor painting.  We got a set of CD’s to help us learn Spanish.   I continue to learn (out of necessity) the art of website crap, but what do I really want to learn?

There is something inside of me that begs to be expressed.  I don’t know if it will be in writing, on the web, in film, poetry, art, or what?  It just wants to be expressed.  I think sometimes this is the birthplace of all art and ideas, this inexplicable desire.  We can numb that desire, shop it away, spend it away, drink it away, but it comes back again and again. 

For me, it has something to do with energy and pulse, fields of spirit that rise up and fall somehow seeking a way out.  There is a self that both generates this field and taps into it simultaneously.  Milt and I talked about this, too.  I think it is an important topic even though I can’t express it yet.  There have been some masters who have taught me something about this energy.  I think of Larry LeShan, Joseph Chilton Pearce, Robert Fritz, and Bert Hellinger.  They use their minds to reach into the unknowable.  Then they use their small human existence to try to express it. 

We share this.  Above all things it is what binds one human to another.  We have this desire to feel, reach–understand the unknowable.  We translate it into words, images, sound, or music, etc. as best we can knowing all the while that our best efforts will fall short of capturing it. 

I’m going to step off the ledge here and call this energy God.  This is not the God of any specific religion because it simply cannot be owned.  It is not the God that causes people to separate from one another.  It is a God that joins us, that unifies, that opens our eyes and allows us to see our commonality instead of our differences.  It is pulse, rhythm, mystery, tone, movement.  It is both an inner experience and an outer experience.  It is so mysterious that we scarcely dare give it a name.  As Milt and I talked, I called it “perfect harmony” or maybe “perfect harmonics” would be a better term. 

When we approach the throne of this creative pulse, we experience our human life differently.  We feel our blood move in our bodies in a new way.  We feel connected to another and yet free to celebrate our single unique self.  Wow, wouldn’t it be something to be able to express that somehow?  And most fascinating is that it could be expressed in ten thousand ways and each expression of it would be right and true.

Oddly, this mysterious force, this harmonic energy is hidden in our desire to learn “something new.”  Isn’t that interesting?  When I am bored and simply want to learn something new, it is the Big Energy activating inside of me—it pulls me out of the mundane and makes me ache for something different.  I  really want to see what that might be—for me at this moment in time.

As we approach this New Year, it’s a good time to ask big questions.  What is it that seeks expression in you?  How many ways does it leak out in a single day or moment?  How many ways do you dull its fine energy and wash it away?  What could you do to grab the horn of this energy and ride it into new ways of being? 

When I ask these things at the end of a post, I am not talking to empty air.  I’m talking to you.  I actually want to know what you are thinking about, what is moving you around the planet, what activates this good (god) energy in you.  My goal is to open conversations.  If you comment, I’ll respond.  If you subscribe to No Ordinary Life, it helps me keep the promise to myself to write and post at least once a week. 

 

A techy note:  My subscribe button is still acting strange (I’ve been having an expert help me) but if you fill in the box and hit subscribe, it actually does reach me even though it isn’t giving a sign-up page.  A confirmation email should show up in your email.   The end result of becoming a subscriber is that when I write a new piece, it comes into your email box.  Read at your convenience—or easily unsubscribe if you no longer want to get them.  I don’t sell anything from my blog posts, so you won’t suddenly get blitzed with impersonal pitches scheduled by some cyber mind to go out at regular intervals.   I am actually going to attempt to add the subscribe form below.  We shall see . . . .

I’ve actually discovered something about those weird RSS buttons and started to click them to use Google Reader so I can read other blogs I like at my leisure. 

 

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My god . . . really? — 3 Comments

  1. Hi Jamie

    I look forward to your posts and always enjoy reading them. As I’ve said before, it’s a great way for me to keep up with you and Milt. You often have ideas that are interesting to me, though I rarely respond because of our dichotomy. You have such a cheerful view of the world, so what would be the point. However, today’s post asked specific questions I might be able to answer with some sort of categorical optimism.

    I recently read the following quote by a man named Sir George Saville, who was a member of Parliament in the 1700s. “The critics rules were made after the poems. The rules of architecture after ye houses, grammar after language and governments go per hookum & crookum and then we demonstrate it per bookum.” Mr. Saville says much the same thing as Robert Fritz. They both allow me to close my eyes to the critics and rules, and simply enjoy what I do without placing anyone’s values on it, including impositions of my own.

    I find that when I sit down to relax is when I’m most inspired. Without something in my hands or requiring my concentration, I usually find answers to my questions, or thoughts that lead me to my next endeavor. Relaxation beyond those points leads to boredom then it’s an easy choice of what’s to be done.

    As you know, I was a musician for many years. I never regretted giving it up – true in the capacity served for those 30 plus years. It’s only in hindsight that I realize my appreciation of music when a particular performance gives me goose bumps. It took thirteen years to find a new channel, but the cello “activates the good (god) energy” in me.

    Keep telling your story, Jamie.

    • Hi Dana,

      Milt and I were talking about almost the same thing yesterday. I loved seeing you put it so succinctly in words. I am not actually the cheery optimist that I apepar to be. In fact, I see too well for my own good in things all around me. I half-jokingly and half seriously said to Milt, “Well, as a species, we are on our way out–natural selection will take care of the big picture.” I followed with knowing that as a single human being there is not a whole lot I can do about politics, religion, war, and stupid people in power. All I really can do is reach out to touch the face of the creative and live according to that. It is my politics, religion (and my war). Milt can be very outwardly cynical and I was asking him how does that change anything? Does it make his belly feel better? No.

      Years ago I remember being immersed Castenada’s “The Teachings of Don Juan” and in thata book he spoke about our ability to “move our assemblage point”. I’d have to go back to the text (maybe I should) to remember it exactly but it was the simple act of saying one minute “I am this way” and in the next moment saying “Now I am this way.” It is taking the many converging points of a person’s life and having them converge on a new point–a chosen point rather than a reactive point. I prefer this.

      Human beings are cruel and greedy. Human beings are creative and able to shift realities. Does that make sense?

      Milt is thinking of re-engaging his own music just to save his soul:) I write not for you or anybody but to save my own soul. Crazy world. But where would we be without it? A good question.

      Love hearing from you. Maybe I need to post more honestly–go to the bone of my own lack of optimism.

      Jamie

  2. Dana and Jamie,

    Dana first – although you say you are pessimistic, I have always found your amazing creations to be so full of fun and light that it’s hard for me to believe that inside is only a grinch. I’ve always envied the way you (and Jamie) can stick to a project or idea, and follow it through to the end with no real “purpose” other than it’s something you want to do. I have great difficulty “self-generating” and it’s something I have struggled with for years.

    As Jamie said, I am re-engaging my music as a way to bring some more smiles into my life. Everytime I do anything with music I feel better, so I’m looking forward to that. I just ordered a “You Rock Guitar” which is really a midi controller that looks and plays like a guitar, but allows you to play a Leslie Organ right on your guitar, or strings or drums etc etc. How much fun is that!

    Jamie, I’ll get back to plugins in a minute – just had to read Dana’s post (and your response) since I was getting logged in to your site. BTW – they mentioned a spell-checker plugin – I’m going to install it – I mean why not??

    M.

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