it's never me - inspiration never has my involvement aside from recording what appears. To find myself struggling is a hint of my involvement, it means I'm attempting to assert my independence from the whole, demand life in full creative force to do my bidding. In such a case (if it were indeed possible) every detail of my artistic life would be small, a force of will shouting directions in a storm and believing it's the wind, rain and thunder. Life is so much more than I could dream of on my own, and in truth there is no need for me to even dream - it's unfolding now in ever imaginable way, in ways that can't possibly even be imagined. One such way is my own continuous unfolding, right now as the story of Eric, yet tomorrow, who knows? Yet always it unfolds as life, not separate from any other story told. Just life. As this - life, what is there to demand? Who would be the one to do the demanding? I will get nothing more from life than Life itself. And that's enough, more than enough it's the all, the whole, and the infinite display of creation. Why limit myself to a single demand based on a false identity of being small? Life, in creation of itself, through itself, has revealed myself as part of it's great mystery. I played no part in this at all. So to be inspired is to simply stop pretending I'm in control, to quit shouting through the storm, and allow it all to be. As it will anyway. Then, in a moment presented to "me" - perhaps there'll be words to be written down.
~
Peace,
Eric
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