What is it about a coffee shop and a little jolt of caffeine that sends writer's block packing?
(And by caffeine, I mean the power of suggestion alone - I haven't had more than two sips of my latte and already I have that antsy-idea-flowing-ness that tells me that this is a state of mind, not a state of caffeine high. Give me a half hour and the latter will be true. Right now, it's just the excitement of the place that is reviving my writing efforts.)
Writer's block doesn't work for me the way it does in the movies.
With each book I birth, there is a necessary progression of events that culminate in the literary stork bringing the box of crisp, brown-paper-swaddled newborns to my front door.
First, there's the tingle in my brain that tells me some new work is coming.
Then, my guides yell at me in meditation for awhile until I actually begin writing things down.
(I kid - kind of. They just remind me. Over. And over. And OVER until I finally listen. No yelling. Generally.)
Finally, I begin to document the flashes of memory, experience, and epiphany that course through my brain by writing down a word or two in random places. Currently in my collection I have a tea-stained pink sheet of paper torn from a notebook of my sister's, along with journal pages that I have to flip through and find, along with the ever-present scribbled upon Corner Bakery receipt. That last one is from about 15 minutes ago.
So perhaps the method could use some work...
Although, in my defense, it has been super cool to unexpectedly come across messy, crumpled pieces of paper every now and then stuck in books or old jacket pockets that were the embryonic beginnings of my first and second books. Fun to see how things grow and unfold through time, attention, and energy.
The next step in my process is the one I've been spinning my wheels on for the past couple of months. This has to do with downloading all of the swirling, fluid, living chapters coursing through my consciousness into my physical brain, translating them into words, and then sending them out of my fingertips and into an electronic file. There's a lot of time and energy that goes into that step, and I am completely unable to rush the process, no matter how frustrated I get or how many reminders I get from people who are waiting for the book. (Both things happen, but I also self publish so at least the only person really breathing down my neck is my slightly OCD alter ego that comes in strongly when it's time for me to clean my house or...write something.)
Each combination of unique letters, ideas, words, paragraphs, and images that exists has its own unique energetic vibration and even life force, and these things simply will not be rushed.
When first writing Journal of a Starseed, I was given instruction through meditation on how to imbue a written work with a living/spirit technological code that has historically been embedded in the sacred texts of the world - this is why you can open the Bible, the Koran, the Bhagavad Gita, or countless others to any "random" page after asking a question mentally, and receive an answer to the question you asked.
The way you do it as a writer is to imbue the work with an intentional vibration of consciousness that not only leads it to only those who are meant to read it, but who also reads the human being in turn as the book is read, and gives back the information needed for the human reader's evolution to the highest potential degree.
I know that sounds weird.
But...
Reality is fluid.
And if you've ever read a book or seen a movie more than once, you'll easily remember that each time, different words, scenes, and emotions jumped out and affected you. This is no accident. And as a creator of such things, why not take advantage of this?
(A quick note - this can go both ways. If you sit down to receive guidance in any way and set an intention to use whatever you're looking at or listening to for divination, you'll get the information that you need. As odd as this sounds, a "game" I often play when at a crossroads is to have a glass of wine, sit down in front of a high-vibe movie that I identify with, and look for signs that will help me on my way. Always works. And that is whether or not the creators of the movie had that intention while making it...)
Anyway, when things are flowing and when the new book is ready to be born, I just sit down at my computer and it flows out of me.
My entire life I've been told I had piano hands. Yet reading music is like sending a hack saw into my brain. Disruptive and unpleasant.
So what was the deal? I had to wonder this after the zillionth "piano fingers" comment.
Not true, my main guide told me once after bringing up the piano hand thing. I have keyboard hands. The computer is my instrument.
I remember that feeling of "Oooohhh! Yeah, I get it!" that came as a result of that statement.
Life is weird. Can't make this stuff up.
Anyway, I suppose I should stop procrastinating now and go work on this:
Hopefully it'll be done in the next several weeks.
Cross your fingers for me, no matter what your instrument is. :)
