It's hard to be unfolding spiritually without a spiritual practice of some kind. My normal process is meditation and I haven't sat in meditation for several days. Hence, it's no surprise that I haven't posted anything. What IS surprising is that sacred shit sometimes comes just because you need it and not because you practiced.
That's the beauty of my Big Dude. He speaks to me when I least expect it and even when I don't consciously want it. Like now.
I was annoyed at the remaining papers that need to be graded. I went in the kitchen to get a chocolate mousse pudding (60 calories), carefully squirted light whipped cream on it, added a few sliced almonds, and there He was.
"Write in your blog," He said. So, here I am. Aware of the fireplace fan whirring, the grey skies outside the window, and the sweet taste of chocolate in my mouth. This moment's blessings.
"Don't try so hard," He says now. I know what he means. My forehead is scrunched in effort as I try to get in touch with SOMETHING that I could write about.
My mind goes into doubting mode. What if sacred shit is nothing at all, a figment of my imagination? I suddenly see that I was first a figment of the Big Dude's imagination and eventually the characters in his novel played their parts and I was born.
This is about my birth-day. On May 24, 1945, I entered the human story and changed it forever. You did the same when you entered, and you, and you. I "get" creation in a semi-mythological way. I get its relationship to authoring a text. You open up a field of energy and you begin to form it. As soon as you begin to form it, it rips away from you and takes on its own life. Your characters refuse to behave the way you imagined they would; things play out differently than the plot you conceived.
So it is with Creation. The Big Dude set some energy field in motion, be it a Big Bang or Light or Whatever. Simultaneously, the field began unfolding towards the world we experience and the worlds beyond our experience. Bad things happened and good things happened. Characters like us cry out: "Why did you let that happen? What kind of God are you?" "I'm the Author. I'm the Word," the Big Dude can only say having lost all control of the characters, the scene, and the plot.
As an author, I also know that the Big Dude doesn't worry about the Creation anymore than I worry about my blogs or other writings. You set out to say one thing and something else gets written. In the end, it comes out just the way it should, a better way than you had imagined. That's how I see the Big Dude. He's in there being the author and believing in his book/blog/poem/Creation. He tweaks here and sets up a new scene there, but it's surprising how little control we have of our writing or He has of His great work.
He loves it though, the way you love something or other. I wake up and the first thing I do is open up my blog to see what's happening. Who's been there? Are there new followers? I add something to it. All day, I'm thinking of trying this or posting that. I LOVE my blogs. That's how I know that the Big Dude loves us. He loves us with the disinterested intensity of an author. Roxie
No comments:
Post a Comment