Yogis,
I have been thinking about my writing lately. I have sent these notes every Sunday, almost without fail, since I returned from herbal training in August 2012. What began as a way to share information, evolved into a ritual. A part of my week……every week.
I have been thinking about my writing lately. I have sent these notes every Sunday, almost without fail, since I returned from herbal training in August 2012. What began as a way to share information, evolved into a ritual. A part of my week……every week.
People often ask me how I go about them. Do I look things
up? Read other materials to get ideas? Have some sort of yoga resource that
provides ideas? No, it’s nothing like that.
I typically sit down to write at some quiet time between Friday
and Sunday morning depending on the weekend schedule. I open up a blank
document in word with only a blurry idea that is stirring. It could have been
from something I observed or an experience I had. Or like this week, as I was
sorting through the 469 posts that I have done to date, a question bubbled up.
Where did these come from?
Where do these come from?
I sit in front of a blank sheet with only the beginnings of
an idea, lay my hands on the keyboard and pour words out. Thoughts turn into
sentences which run down my arms, out through my fingers and onto the screen. A
theme develops and carries me along for the ride. Usually within a half hour I
have the page filled.
Where do these come from?
One moment there is nothing and then suddenly there is
something. Inspiration. A creative life force pouring in. It flows through each
of us….in different ways.
For you it may be an image in your mind that lays itself
down magnificently with paint on a canvas. Your ability to look at a complex problem
and know its solution instantly. Maybe your creations are done with spices in a
saucepan, flowers in a garden, or by lifting a violin to your chin.
Where do these come from?
We are all creators and contain this mysterious ability to
create something from nothing. A current that flows through, but where is the
source?
When I try to physically feel how the idea gets pulled up, it
reminds me of rummaging down around the bottom of an overfilled toy box for the
one small toy your child is asking for. You sense it is there but mixed in with
a crowd until you finally feel it, know, grab hold and lift it through all of
the other thoughts packed around it.
I am realizing that this blank sheet that sits before me is
no different than the blank day that I awaken to each morning. Or for that
matter, this blank life that I was born into. At times I look and marvel at what
has poured through. I believe our only constraint is the mind, as the ocean of
inspiration is boundless and will play through you….whenever you are its
willing instrument.
Inspire in…..pause…..exhale it into being
As for me, I will continue to face blank pages, surrender
and lean in to fill them. But perhaps I should start putting blank canvasses
there too? Who knows what else is waiting to give voice……
Inspired,
SARAH
SARAH
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