Antsy. That’s how I felt. Flitting from task to task, things that weren’t important and I really didn’t need to focus on but got my attention anyway. Mainly as a diversion. From sitting. Getting quiet, writing.
I think first I need to write, but then, I realize, no. I need to get quiet. It’s funny. I want to write, I know I need to write, I know I need to create some space. But I worry that I won’t be able to get it right. To write out what I need to. To find the words. To express what needs to be expressed.
Really?
I worry about this still. Getting it right. As if there is an audience that is looking for me to say one particular thing and if I don’t say that, then all is lost.
So, I get that this isn’t true. And that it isn’t about the words, or even about posting this ever.
Really, what my spirit is calling for, what my soul craves is quiet listening. Grounding. Stopping the cycle of anxiety induced internet surfing. Surfing for an answer?
Be Still and Know
So, instead of writing, I stopped. I took a shower and stood quietly while the hot water poured over my shoulders. My tendency is to attempt to direct my thoughts. To actively think about the things I think are on my mind, the things I think I need to express. I try to form sentences in my head that will express what’s in my heart. Until I realize I don’t need to do that. That all I am called to do is get quiet, show up, then sit down to the paper and begin. No agenda. No outline. Just start writing.
And I can ask for help. Ask for guidance on what I am writing.
When I remember all that, I begin to breathe again. When I remember that my task is the listening, getting quiet, giving myself the space to write, then I can create. Then what needs to be said will be. What needs to come out will come out. What needs to be shared will be shared. In a more beautiful way than I alone could create.
And isn’t that the beauty of the creative process? The letting go. The relaxing into what the work is, rather than attempting to pull out something from our thinking. It’s letting it flow from a source much deeper than our minds. Our minds are great. But the depths of creativity dwell somewhere else. And it’s those places I long to touch, to explore, to share.
I can’t get there when I keep checking my email to see what has come (there must be something important, right?) or looking at Facebook to see someone else share some profound learning. I can’t get there when I bounce around DOING. I must shift into BEING.
So I took the steps. First, the shower. Then sitting on the porch, closing my eyes, gently shaking my head from side to side and getting into a rhythm of quiet and peace.
While I was there, I listened to the thunder. Have you ever heard rolling thunder and been still enough to actually hear it roll from one part of the sky to another? When was the last time? I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before. Heard the sound move and shift. And paid attention to the subtleties of the vibrations.
You can’t do that when you’re locked inside doing things. Only when you are still and quiet.
And you know, it makes life so much easier when you realize that what you are working toward, that big dream in your heart, isn’t something you will create on your own. When you realize that you are a co-creator and your partner has a depth of knowledge and understanding that you cannot even fathom, the process becomes effortless.
And in the effortless, comes the inspiration, the beauty, the wonder and the magic.
I’m all for the magic.
How about you? What helps you reconnect to your deeper self and quiet the ever-present mad noise all around? Leave a comment, I’d love to hear.
