I've been struggling with my writing. Not so much struggling as tolerating my passive indifference to moving forward with any one of three projects. Until tonight. I've pulled out the story sketches and event outlines and began a scene from Luzca's book tonight.
This is the first day of the third and final week of the 21-day post-attunement cleanse from repeating the Usui Reiki Master attunement. Amazing stuff has been going on. And today I am writing.
This day, just now, I began the arduous process of translating into fixed form these scenes and events that will eventually comprise my first work of fiction. So huge and tremendous. I've been talking about writing this and a couple other fiction pieces for a while now. Today I had that feeling I get when I am ready to brace myself for a long, arduous task. It's really more an action than a feeling. I pull at my hair.
When I pull at my hair while I write, it means I'm serious. It means I'm ready to wrestle with my myself, with my muses, with my vocabulary. It means that my heart and my intellect are going to try to work together, to hear each other out, to collaborate. And what it requires is confronting my ego at every sentence and sometimes at every word. The process of writing is hard for me because I let my ego run my intellect. I try to write from my head and it all sounds horrid. But until I learn a better way, my writing only proceeds from first putting down something, anything on the paper. The ego and the intellect tell a trite story. Then, at some unpredictable point in the future, my heart finds an opening and reworks the story in her image. Then there's beauty and fun, adventure and joy. Until then, and always before then, I have to watch myself put down crap.
I'm learning to appreciate that there are a bunch of steps before any harvest. Getting the initial draft down on paper is like the tedious work of tilling the soil. It has to be done. It isn't exciting. It's necessary.
So what brought on this willingness to dive into it finally? That deeper cleaning I referenced in the prior blog played a part. I should add that I also had a session with my own healer a couple days after the reattunement. A day or two after the session with her, I experienced a new sensation of God's love.
I'm hesitant to share it here. I'm hesitant to share that I had a new experience of feeling God's love out of fear of someone reading this and thinking, "Poor girl. She didn't know God loved her?" I knew it in the intellectual sense that everyone who claims to know God believes God loves them. Isn't the whole basis of Christianity that "God so loved the world..." Being part of the world, I was willing to entertain that God loved me too.
What was different last week, was the sensation and certainty of feeling it beyond knowledge and belief. That God loves me seeped into my soul, my body and my bones. On my evening walk it settled about me like a nourishing and vibrant cloud of light, melting away and transforming the fears that have hindered full pursuit of so many dreams, including writing these books.
For months I've been avoiding acknowledging that I quite simply felt I wasn't up for the task. I feared my inadequacy. I feared being unable to fulfill my own dreams. Nevermind my conviction that writing the Luzca tale is part of my life mission, something I must do, I still felt incapable of seeing it through. Translation? God set me up! He let me take on as my own a task I came wholly unprepared to complete.
Today I feel different. Something about that tangible peace from the greater clarity and certainty that God Loves Me has freed me from the constraints of fear. God wouldn't set me up. If I'm feeling the need to write this book, then I must be capable of doing so.
I feel willing to give it a try. I'm willing to do my best and let it do whatever it does.
Actually, there's lots more to say about it. I'm too exhausted to do so right now. I'll just add that I'm finally taking my Caribbean getaway in a few days and plan to use much of the time to outline this novel. If the process of completing my last book is any indication, this writing retreat will give rise to a clearer outline that will inevitably change beyond recognition by summer.
And that's the process. I guess this God Loves Me sensation has helped me come to peace with the process of writing. I was paralyzed by the knowledge that when I begin writing it won't come out wonderfully...at first.
There's pulling up soil, laying the seed and then the germinating that happens out of sight. Getting something written, beginning the story--that's tilling the soil. Planting the seeds is the details and outlining I do in an attempt to get the big picture and proceed in an organized fashion through the writing.
The germinating...that's when my heart sits back and does what it does in my dreams and in my subconscious. Then I come back to the story and begin to see sprouts of creativity, true love and genius. Then, much tending to the sprouts, lots of love and the plants begin to bear fruit.
It's very exciting.
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