A joyful participant:
to let the theme appear, easily so, and not assert my will upon the page - that's generally how I approach my morning writing, dismissing most impulses that first rise to my mind, settling, and seeing what emerges from this field of always present silence. My best writing seldom feels like my own, meaning that I can make no claim for its inspired flow of words. Really, it happens on its own, I'm a joyful participant, receiving words from wherever they were held before and only later do I get for my role. As an author, I'm simply a conduit for the play of words and how inspiration wishes they unfold.
this is mostly how my life seems to go, being a joyful participant, allowing a theme to appear and working with whats been given to me now. Yes, it might be a thread of sorrow, or to find myself suffering through a longer bout of depression - yet still I'll say that I'm a joyful participant through it all, not overtly so, my celebration is within the act of simply being alive and having this once only opportunity to be expressed exactly so, understanding that everything is changing and will never again be as they are right now. My joy is within being expressed, this unique pattern of my existence, and with a bittersweet knowing of how brief this appearance is, temporary in all but the motion of its change.
so I let the words arrive to me, just the right way, no effort to be clever or insightful, no need to apply myself to any serious pursuit of ideas. I'm a joyful participant here, and the entire process flows completely through my morning, no aspect being separate from another, a sip of coffee just as inspired as first word, everything emerging from the same source of mystery.
even my claim to be the author.
~
Peace, Eric
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