Returning


So I had to take a few days away from this blog

The late Alex Tanous wrote that the creative impulse that drove people to make great works of art or science was the force behind psychic phenomena. Ironically, it wasn't an original thought with him, but for a grade school kid pouring over the public library's newly purchased copy of Beyond Coincidence: One Man's Experiences With Psychic Phenomena, it was pretty deep stuff. Especially when I was trying to handle my own weirdness from a "scientific" perspective.

Orson Scott Card did the job more poetically in The Tales of Alvin Maker. In the story it seems that the Maker must create something in order to keep the Unmaker at bay.

It's the same thing just described differently.

Now I am not going to compare the realities of magick and psychic stuff. That's another topic and at least seven more entries. And maybe one person in a thousand will agree with me. Nor will I point out the obvious that one is fiction and the other is (disputed) nonfiction. Instead, I'll just say that a big part of what makes us human is our desire to create something unique and to "make a dent in the universe." We want to tell people, "yep, I was there!"

In my mainstream blog, I'm mostly reactive. Lately, even that has been a real challenge because it's become harder and harder to find reliable sources. Financially, I'm not where I'd like to be, although the biggest knot in the tangle (the fine from my arrest last year) is finally PAID IN FULL and a few months early at that. There have been some online and offline dramas that I've tended to make worse (never ask my opinion unless you want what I honestly feel). There have been some other things too, so I've tended to bury myself in the "minutiae of mundania."

That's when I look down instead of at the horizon and sky. I don't lose my connection to the Divine, I just become less aware of it in my everyday consciousness. My heart isn't in my rites and devotionals.

Shaped by thought and driven by passion.

If my thoughts are consumed by the everyday and my passion isn't in the celebrations I offer to my gods, then I feel myself lessening, becoming gray and washed out.

There is only one cure I know. I have to make something. I have to open the spigots of my own creativity and let that flow through me. It's dishonorable to receive a gift from the gods and NOT use it.

I know what my grandfather did, he and generations before. Blood, sweat, toil, and tears mixed with the soil and sun to bring forth food. So yes, I cleaned out some of my garden plot and flower beds. I put my outdoor ritual space in order, I tied some live branches and vine runners to my fence.

But mostly I drew. Scads and scads of paper. The buildings and details that run through my head, the bends and curves of the earth, the diamond sharp points of a million brilliant stars and an organic space. Most of it's not worth keeping.

But I had to let it out. Pens and pencils and songs and hums and moans and breaths and smudges and lines and scribbles and ideas and memories poured out onto paper.

And today the despair and the depression and the fear and the longing are a little further away.

Making.
The.
Connection.

Reaching to touch all the gods I can so I can touch the people around me.

And not wrap myself away.

So I won't lose myself in the less than ordinary.

I have to make something that wasn't there.

The only way to be more creative is to share that Divine spark. From the gods through us to our fellow humans.

We spark each other.

May the gods keeps us from ever forgetting.

Posted: Tue - October 13, 2009 at 08:35 AM
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