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.
Share on Facebook