Prompts on the Journey

Mythically, where do I come from?
Who are my parents?
My ancestors?
My siblings?
With whom do I belong?

Are you more than you think you are?

There is a very particular risk inherent in the creative process: when you take the journey inward, you discover that you are not who you think you are, or you are more than who you think you are. But sometimes these images reflected through the inner mirrors are so alien that they first appear ugly, even demonic and cause us to run. The trick is not to run, but to persevere. The image will shift, the fear will dissolve and the stranger seen through the creative mirror will become familiar and quite wonderful. These unknown parts of us will guide us through unseen doors, into unexpected landscapes.

A poem by Juan Ramon Jimenez speaks wonderfully to this point.

I Am Not I

I am not I.
I am walking beside me
whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit
and at other times manage to forget.
The one who forgives sweet when I hate,
the one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
the one who remains silent when I talk,
and the one who will remain when I die.

How do we discover these who walk beside us and tend to be who we are not? How do we learn to lift the smoke screen?

First of all, I'd like to suggest that these ones do not walk beside us, but these unseen, unexplored voices live inside us.

There are different ways of finding this inner self which some call the dark or shadow side, hidden self or true self. Whatever you call them they are parts of our selves that have been secluded, usually in childhood or adolescence, when it seemed somehow dangerous to put them out into the world. We learn very early in life to pass judgements on those parts of ourselves that don't meet with acceptance and, in so doing, we doom ourselves to live through a very small part of the totality of self while casting other parts of self into the shadows, where we keep them hidden, silenced in the dark.

Carl Jung said that the unconscious is a great friend, guide and advisor to the conscious and that psychic wholeness comes from bringing the unconscious and the conscious into balance. He believed the primary way of doing this is through dreams. I believe that this communication is also part and parcel of the creative journey. The trick is in breaking through the stranglehold that the rational, conscious mind, the "I" we think we are, has on us.

As far as I am concerned, this is the most difficult part of the journey, quieting the inner critic so that we can go unfettered, without judgment and criticism, into the great sea of the unconscious. This breaking through is also the hook -- or perhaps it is more accurate to say that when we finally break through into the creative unconscious, we are hooked. For there we find the hidden selves who hold so much of our deep yearnings and explosive drive. They hold talents, wisdom and knowledge we never dreamed we had. For the fiction writer, our hidden, disowned selves often come through as powerhouse characters -- if we let them! In so many ways, these hidden selves are partners in the dance of creativity.

The Door is Always Open

By Kathy Tilghman Kluge

I don’t know how to speak about a lifelong pursuit of the creative writing life. I have been on this journey for many years, approximately 30. I have had many questions along this path, but the answer to a question that has always eluded me is this: how do I access more of my creativity? How can I become a better writer? It’s a mysterious question, granted, with probably a different answer for each writer who has ever written.

I want to know where to find my creativity and how to access more of it in order to write well. Where does my creative juice originate? Where can I tap into that flow? Is there a “creativity fountain” similar to the enigmatic (but nonexistent) fountain of youth located in a non-local, place? Once I find it, how can I revisit it and tap into its magic any time I want---forever?

I have searched for the answer to these questions in a myriad of ways including, but not limited to: taking creative writing courses, studying with writers, being a member of writing groups, attending writing retreats, increasing my vocabulary, buying voice activated computer software, buying shelves full of how-to writing books, barricading myself in my room to write, reading what other writers have done to increase their creativity and writing skills, and the list goes on ad infinitum. I have never found the answer to my questions: no book, writing friend, classroom, writing curriculum, course instructor, has ever been able to give a definitive answer to accessing the creative source dilemma.

However, while in a conversation about this question with another writer friend, an image came into my mind as we talked. The image was this: I am inside a room with four walls, a ceiling, a door, and a window. Someone has told me to figure out my own answer to the question while in this creativity room. Ideas emerged within me. I could dig myself out, pull the floor tiles up and crawl out, pick the lock on the door or window, or climb out the window, and escape to the vast sea of creativity below. I’m jammed inside this room with my books, teachers, writing mentors, friends, computer and software, and I ache to get out of the cramped space. I am too confined and I panic with claustrophobia. I work as hard as I can, for as long as I can, studying, reading, typing, organizing manuscripts, writing, rewriting, editing, rewriting, writing and writing more, until I’m worn to a frazzle.

Yes, over a 30 years, it’s frazzling to do everything I do (do, do, do, produce, produce, produce) and continue working in such cramped space. So, I dig in again, and dig and dig and dig, and study, read, write all the while, all the while gasping for air, for relief from the restricted space. I am desperate to open a window, escape the writing room before it becomes my writing tomb.

And yet, I know logically that nothing in the room--- its floor, walls, window and door can truly imprison me; but yet I scream because I know intuitively that creativity is supposed to free you, enliven you, and awaken your senses -- not superimpose artificial limits.

And yet, I mistakenly believe my own creativity has done this to me, but within me there is a spark of realization that I have set my own limit. Not knowingly, of course, but unwittingly, subconsciously, I have imposed limits on myself.

So, to be rid of the demons of self-imprisonment, I throw books on the floor, pound on the walls and scream, "Let me out, let me out, let me out of this room! It’s not working for me any more and all my creativity is leaking out of me." but nobody can hear me.

"Please, let me out," I beg to the Universe. Seemingly to no avail. But slowly my inner and outer storms quiet; it is the calm after the storm.

I look around the room and examine the door and the doorknob. I eye the messiness of the room that makes me want to flee even quicker. I pace the room like a tiger in a cage and accidentally bump against the doorknob, and I hear its faint click -- a click that urges me to turn the knob. I take hold and turn it and, to my dismay, the door yields.

Like that, I have opened the door that I assumed was locked during my entire “sentence” (no pun intended!) in the creative writing room and walked out a free woman---free to create as I want, what I want, how I want and when I want. The door had always been open.

Before I went on my merry writing way, I looked behind me to give my writing room crammed with the acoutrements of my former writing life a farewell glance. Before I leap into the free and open writing world before me, I remind myself that the door was never locked and that it was I who could have opened it myself any time I chose.

But one more thought crosses my mind as I jump free and it isthis: As I leave the room and its door behind me, I see that I never even needed the walls.

Risk: The Magic Ingredient

I once did a series of interviews with people who were successful with their creativity and there wasn’t a one who didn’t light up when I asked them about risk. It’s the fuel, the manna, the soul food. It’s also one of the most powerful components of life; without risking, we stagnate. Take a risk, no matter how small, and everything changes. If you’re so afraid of the risk you won’t take chances, you will never be creative. No way. It is impossible.

When I interviewed Nick Meglin, who has been the “idea man” for Mad magazine almost since its inception, I asked him where he thought risk comes into play in creativity. His answer was immediate and forceful:

“Right at the beginning and always, always. A blank page is always a risk. This is a very strong philosophy I have. You and I go to Las Vegas. And I buy ten one-hundred-dollar chips. That’s one thousand dollars. You buy ten one-dollar chips. That’s ten dollars. We go to the crap table. That man over there, we both bet with him. I put all my ten chips down that he’s going to win. You put down one one-dollar chip that he does. The man rolls a seven. I win one thousand dollars. You win one dollar. Who’s luckier?”

“You took a bigger risk,” I said. “You got more.”

“No, you were just as lucky because you bet for him to roll a seven and I bet for him to roll a seven. We’re equally lucky. What differs is what I was willing to lose—not happy to lose, but willing to lose for that risk. We both won on the same roll, the same number, the same bet, but I made a thousand dollars because I was going to risk losing a thousand.

“I tell this to my students—I taught drawing for twelve years—if you don’t want to be told you’re a lousy artist by someone out there who doesn’t know what he’s talking about, don’t draw. Don’t fill a white page with lines, because once you do it, you’re at risk. But if you are going to do it, put everything you can on that page, everything you are or what you feel, what you think, your perception, you alone, not what you’ve seen, not what you think you’d like to do. React to that model, be at one. You’re the only artist in the world drawing that model tonight that way, in your way. No one else can do it.

“Bet the whole roll and put yourself at risk. If not, you’ll never win. You may not lose, but you’ll never win. Go down swinging. Lose trying. But put yourself at risk. And that’s what creativity is.”

This was excerpted from The Art of Fiction Writing, by Emily Hanlon

Be the rain falling on your skin.

When the Soul Speaks....

I had a fight with my husband last night. I slept in the guest room and come morning, I was still angry and hurt. So I decided to meditate on how to handle these feelings. This was the intention of the meditation, but soon I found myself considering the question of my truth. Not the truth in terms of my version of the fight. That I was right, of course, and he was wrong-- and would never admit it much less apologize. My meditation had taken me to my Truth with a capital T. I was aware, too, that the voice who was considering this Truth was not my own. That the thoughts in my head were not my own.

I wasn’t, however, taken aback by the fact there was this other voice talking to me. I often have conversations with my guides. Over the years, perhaps because I write fiction, perhaps because of my proclivity to imagine, or perhaps because my father, a great lover of Shakespeare, was fond of quoting Hamlet, saying: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophies” — perhaps because of these influences and predilections, I have become an ardent believer that imagination holds the deeper, truer reality.

So, hearing this other voice was comfortable. What she said, however, took me by surprise. Here I was, ruminating over this fight I had had with my husband and, suddenly, I am given the answer to questions I have been asking for a very long time:

What is the truth of my life?

Why am I here?

What is my path?

I had always thought that if and when I knew the answers to these questions, my work, the meaning of my life would become clear. So the answer I was given surprised me. I was told this: The truth of who you are is simply this: you are one with God. You are safe in the light. Nothing can harm you.

I have heard this before. In fact, I have sucked on such thoughts as a child sucks on a hard candy. Intently. In the end, however, such beliefs—although nice—seemed just too… I’m not sure… Perhaps they didn’t sufficiently meet my work ethic, my need to be busy and to have meaningful work. So believing that the truth of my life is that I am one with God, that I am safe in the light, that nothing can harm me… simply wasn’t sufficient. I needed something more proactive. Something that would really do IT for me.

This morning, to my surprise, the words did IT for me. They impacted me like the greatest ah-ha of my life. I felt them in a way that words cannot describe. The image of a rainbow comes to mind. One can talk about the beauty of a rainbow but talk is only talk until once the rainbow appears. Another image is the joy of making eye contact with a small child whose eyes do not wander off of mine, but draw me in with innocence and immediacy. I smile. The child smiles. It is a smile of sheer simplicity. It is a smile that feels like, well, the rainbow.

Ach, pedestrian! my mind thinks. Rainbows and baby’s smiles. Come on, Emily, you’re a writer. You can come up with something better than that. But I can’t. For in the end, even these images pale before the experience.

I hear the words: The truth of who you are is simply this: you are one with God. You are safe in the light. Nothing can harm you.

The voice goes on. It says, “This is what your soul wants you to know.”

I think, “My God, a moment of soul-speak!” My heart pounds in anticipation. This is a dream I tell myself. But I am awake.

The voice goes on. It says, quoting me, “ ‘Who am I?’ you ask. 'You are light."

I listen very carefully.

“ ‘Who am I?’ you ask. You are the flame of God and creation.

“‘Who am I?’ you ask. You are a being of light.

“There is nothing to fear.

“You say that you do not know who you are inside you own skin. (Indeed this is a feeling I have had a lot of late.) The voice continues, “This is because you are searching for me. I am always here. Waiting. Waiting. For you to see. I have no fear. Only a longing for you, in this incarnation, to return to me. It is I who lives inside your skin. It is I who breathes the light as you breath air. I am light only. I seek the light and union with you. I am only half.

“You long for a twin. I know this. You have longed for a twin since you were a child, for someone who knows you because she is you. For someone who loves you because you have been together since the beginning. Someone who will never stop loving you, no matter what. I tell you this, beloved, you feel this hunger because you have a twin, one you have forgotten. Me. Your Soul. I am incomplete without you. You are incomplete without me.

“You feel sadness in this life, great uncertainty, what you call depression. You feel anger, even rage. These are not outward things or imagined hurts. Walking the path of an incarnate being is difficult and often feels impossible. You lash out at others or yourself. Why? Because you, the incarnate being, forgets the twin who is the soul, forgets that you are never and could never be alone.

“To walk in partnership with me is to truly embrace the journey of life. For I am here to remind you with each and every breath that in our oneness you are a being of light. You are a child of God. You cannot die because I cannot die. We transform, shapeshift if you will. Birth itself is the great shapeshifter.

“Matter, this stuff of the flesh is heavy. We, you and I, we choose the journey of flesh in joy and expectation. Promising always that the body will not forget the soul. And yet, you do. To remember and reunite with me is the greatest dance of life. The never ending dance that takes you through the veils and allows you to journey back to your true birthright. Where there is no anger, no depression, fear or meanness. Where there is only light and God and being and acceptance.

“To remember me is a great task of this life for you. So this moment is one of celebration. Remember Dear One, no one can hurt you. No one can demean you. From this moment on, when you feel anger, rage, depression, emptiness, know that you walk hand in hand with the twin for whom your heart yearns.”

The moment passed, the joy did not sustain itself. Life got in the way. And I forgot. But not ever entirely again. I hold the feeling of this conversation in my heart, in my mind’s eye, in every core of my being. And should I forget for long, one part of me will remember and remind me. I have nothing to fear. I am one with God. I am safe in the light. I am not alone.

And, the fight with my husband...my need to prove I was right and he was wrong... simply didn't matter anymore. It was forgotten and we embraced.

Creativity as Mediator Between the Worlds

Creativity is a mysterious journey that connects us to the unseen worlds. There was a time when all people had access to the unseen worlds, although it was the shamans, story tellers and healers who mediated between the worlds as they journeyed into the Mystery and interpreted the images found there. Today we have our contemporary journeyers into the cosmic unseen worlds--many creative people are such journeyers--but as a culture we have lost the connection to our instinctual nature. With the development of the human brain and the march of history, the pendulum has swung so far that an overwhelming majority of people do not consider the journey into the unseen worlds a possibility, much less a necessity.

It has become trite to say that modern society has lost its soul, but in truth, that's just what has happened. Soul is something that cannot be experienced in the outer world. It cannot be understood, evaluated, judged. Soul is the groundswell of the inner world, and the eyes with which we view the outer world are blind when turned inward. It is only with the eyes of the heart--the instinctual nature of our deep internal knowing--that we traverse the inner landscape and find our way to soul.

If our outer eyes are perceptive, however, and guided by our inner knowing, we can see the outcome of mystery. This happens when, for example, the invisible becomes suddenly visible, or the impossible becomes suddenly possible in ways that cannot be explained by the rational mind. Such things often happen on both a small and large scale, but in Western culture we are quick to attribute them to coincidence; if coincidence isn't sufficient, then the doubting Thomas is convinced it can "figure out" a rational explanation of the mystery.

How much richer life can be when we are open Mystery. But to do this, we must be brave warriors of the spirit, with creativity both our fire and our sword.

Guidance for the Inner Critic

Here is a letter that Irene Kessler wrote to her Inner Critic. I was so moved, I asked if I could reprint her.

Dear Inner Critic,

What you have said to Irene is not reality and harsh and there is no reason to be harsh. The best things happen when you come from love. Love and honor yourself always and you will do fantastic work. You have it in you and you see that in bits and pieces of writing you have already done. Before you write, love yourself. Fill your being with compassion for yourself and the world. Shine a light on yourself and the universe. Know they are there to help and guide you and that is the strongest force there is. Nothing can override it. Go and write my child, and be happy.

Sacred Question

What is the deepest longing of my life?

The answer can be heard only in the stillness.
Can you feel its call...

Opening to Creativity: The Land of Betwixt and Between

Traveling to the Land of Betwixt and Between. A Cosmic Journey!

The land of Betwixt and Between is the boundary of neither/nor, the place where objects touch, auras blend and energy is transformed. It is midnight, the betwitching hour, the time of neither day nor night but mysteriously both. It arrives unannounced like creativity itself.

The place of betwixt and between is the magic, the mystery, the essence of creativity where nothing is what it seems and everything is possible.

The time of betwixt and between is the waxing of the moon becoming the waning of the moon becoming the waxing of the moon. Appearing full for three nights, absolute fullness is only a moment, then passes into the land of betwixt and between.

What else is betwixt and between?

Fog, mist, clouds and all that is elusive, wandering, shapeless, shifting from something, disappearing into nothing–– elusive as creativity itself. Like dawn and dusk, it appears, fills us and is gone without a trace.

Where else is the betwixt and between?

The water's edge betwixt and between the shoreline and the horizon, the air and sea: three worlds coming together. Air, water, and earth changing, ebbing, flowing elusive.

Betwixt and between is that invisible world between the wave and the beach, the fire and the log, the root and the soil, the bud and the stem, the drop of rain and the leaf, the new crust of snow and the old.

• Can you travel to these places of betwixt and between?
• Can you know the spirits that dwell therein?
• Can you leave your body and enter the essence of betwixt and between?
• Can you fly free into wild creativity that is the essence of life?

Light a candle and breath deeply. Watch the rise and fall of your breath. Can you find the betwixt and between in the rise and fall of your breath? Breath deeply as you gaze into the flame. Can you send your creative essence in between the flame and wick? What creativity lies there?

Go to the places of betwixt and between. Fly free and enter possibility. What stories, what adventures lie there??