The muse calls me early in the morning. She always has. There is a voice that whispers, inviting me to enter my inner expressive world. This is the experience of the early bird. It is my best time when my freshest moments of thought appear. I have time to get comfortable with these new ideas in the darkness while alone pondering or writing.
So, the call came to write at about 5AM this morning. I stirred in my covers wondering if I should take this call. I do have a choice to answer or not. The trouble is there is no screening like on our telephones where we can wait and see who called and then decide whether to pick up. When the muse of the dawn calls you will never know who it is unless you actually do answer. She does not leave a message or a tattle tale digitalized name giving away her identity. To answer her call you take the chance and make a decision to listen.
Listening can come in the form of sitting quietly with tea or coffee looking out the window into the dark, reading the book that is begging you to open, or it may be sitting down at the keyboard and writing not knowing what will be said. This type of listening requires trust that the muse will truly speak in ways that are worthy of being jotted down. There is editing of course that comes along with this type of listening because as you deeply listen to the words you see the pattern, the shape that is being drawn and you refine and clarify as you hear the words and what is being said.
Recently I found some volumes of books that had pages and pages of writing that I produced when I was in my mid twenties. It was at a time that I was just beginning to learn how to do this type of opening and listening. The words, I was told by the vocal muse at the time, was another being, a named ancient spiritual being seeking expression through me. All that I had to do was write, write what ever came to me. So I did. The result were pages of automatic writings and colored pencil drawings that meant something to only me. And actually did not always seem clear or fully understandable to me. Now as I think upon this time and experience it was about my beginning of this journey. It was about my baby steps into learning about how to listen.
It is now nearly 40 years since those first writings that told me about my heart, my spiritual identity, my path and my hopes and dreams while meeting my husband to be. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I had no idea of the mountains I would have to climb, the challenges I would have to meet but would wish I never did or the gifts that would be given to me as a result of the many ups and downs. Now I know that the listening that I started to learn was the key to my discovery of those gifts that have made it all so worthwhile.
It is in the listening. This is what this predawn morning muse is telling me. What was important at that time of my youth was that I was willing to listen and I was willing to write it down. I honored the process and the process taught me. Life comes to you and it teaches you but only if you are willing to pay attention. If we go forward in our life not being willing to take the call whether in the darkness of the morning, the heat of the afternoon or the stillness of the night we will not feel the richness of those mountainous tasks that come our way to wake us up to shape us and mold us. We have to pay attention. The muse at dawn says wake up. Wake up and listen. The dear spiritual being of my twenties was knocking at my mind and saying hold on and go for the ride and be sure to listen.
And now, I am 61 years old. Amazing. I think back on my listening. I think back on my avoidance. I think back on all that has transpired. I have been broken. I have been inspired. I have been lost. I have been loved and have loved. I have tried to listen and I know it was in that listening, the deepest listening that the greatest insights, the most powerful learnings, the most beautiful gifts were found. Yes I say, Wake UP and Listen. That is what I must do more of as I enter another period of my life.
An thus I write and now not with the idea that another named or unnamed ancient being is writing through me but with the idea that when I open and listen there is a muse that has no specific form. It is energy with no name. It is the sound of silence that resonates with me. This is the energy of creativity that is available to everyone. We just have to listen. The sound of the voice, the words that form, the art that takes shape is unique to each of us. It is pure in its essence and reflects our individual character. It is indeed like the light that goes through a crystal. The element that is necessary to see it, to hear it, is the willingness to listen. I have so much more listening practice to do. Everyday, everyday, listen, listen..........
So, the call came to write at about 5AM this morning. I stirred in my covers wondering if I should take this call. I do have a choice to answer or not. The trouble is there is no screening like on our telephones where we can wait and see who called and then decide whether to pick up. When the muse of the dawn calls you will never know who it is unless you actually do answer. She does not leave a message or a tattle tale digitalized name giving away her identity. To answer her call you take the chance and make a decision to listen.
Listening can come in the form of sitting quietly with tea or coffee looking out the window into the dark, reading the book that is begging you to open, or it may be sitting down at the keyboard and writing not knowing what will be said. This type of listening requires trust that the muse will truly speak in ways that are worthy of being jotted down. There is editing of course that comes along with this type of listening because as you deeply listen to the words you see the pattern, the shape that is being drawn and you refine and clarify as you hear the words and what is being said.
Recently I found some volumes of books that had pages and pages of writing that I produced when I was in my mid twenties. It was at a time that I was just beginning to learn how to do this type of opening and listening. The words, I was told by the vocal muse at the time, was another being, a named ancient spiritual being seeking expression through me. All that I had to do was write, write what ever came to me. So I did. The result were pages of automatic writings and colored pencil drawings that meant something to only me. And actually did not always seem clear or fully understandable to me. Now as I think upon this time and experience it was about my beginning of this journey. It was about my baby steps into learning about how to listen.
It is now nearly 40 years since those first writings that told me about my heart, my spiritual identity, my path and my hopes and dreams while meeting my husband to be. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I had no idea of the mountains I would have to climb, the challenges I would have to meet but would wish I never did or the gifts that would be given to me as a result of the many ups and downs. Now I know that the listening that I started to learn was the key to my discovery of those gifts that have made it all so worthwhile.
It is in the listening. This is what this predawn morning muse is telling me. What was important at that time of my youth was that I was willing to listen and I was willing to write it down. I honored the process and the process taught me. Life comes to you and it teaches you but only if you are willing to pay attention. If we go forward in our life not being willing to take the call whether in the darkness of the morning, the heat of the afternoon or the stillness of the night we will not feel the richness of those mountainous tasks that come our way to wake us up to shape us and mold us. We have to pay attention. The muse at dawn says wake up. Wake up and listen. The dear spiritual being of my twenties was knocking at my mind and saying hold on and go for the ride and be sure to listen.
And now, I am 61 years old. Amazing. I think back on my listening. I think back on my avoidance. I think back on all that has transpired. I have been broken. I have been inspired. I have been lost. I have been loved and have loved. I have tried to listen and I know it was in that listening, the deepest listening that the greatest insights, the most powerful learnings, the most beautiful gifts were found. Yes I say, Wake UP and Listen. That is what I must do more of as I enter another period of my life.
An thus I write and now not with the idea that another named or unnamed ancient being is writing through me but with the idea that when I open and listen there is a muse that has no specific form. It is energy with no name. It is the sound of silence that resonates with me. This is the energy of creativity that is available to everyone. We just have to listen. The sound of the voice, the words that form, the art that takes shape is unique to each of us. It is pure in its essence and reflects our individual character. It is indeed like the light that goes through a crystal. The element that is necessary to see it, to hear it, is the willingness to listen. I have so much more listening practice to do. Everyday, everyday, listen, listen..........
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