Write It Out: Instruction Video
“Light not only warms, of course, but illuminates both things we want to see and don’t want to see. Like the North African light, our inner incandescence reveals the hallucinatory and the ordinary, the magic and the grim. Light is energy you can’t touch or corral, which is also the nature of spirit. They are both slippery, and slide around in every direction, and they are not always warm and fuzzy, which is so awful. I have felt ectoplasmic flickers of my father and best friends, life forces that have been snuffed out in the human realm but exist, like candles in another room. I once laughed in Safeway at something my friend Pammy said to me right that minute in the spaghetti sauce aisle, a year after she’d died. Light is drawn to light, like heliotropic flowers, poppies, marigolds – paperwhites. And us. Light, candles, full moons magnify spirit that is in the wings. That is a neat trick, the magnify the invisible, and it raises the question: is there another room, stage left, one we cannot see? Doesn’t something happening in the wings argue a wider net of reality? If there are wings off to the side or behind us, where stuff is unfolding, then reality is more than we can see and measure. It means there are concentric circles rippling out beyond the life we see being acted out on the stage.”
Prompt: Things That Feel Heavy – MEC 27 March 2020
Brain says, “Heart is heavy.”
Heart says, “Wait, look! Spring is around us! Sun is shining, night still follows day, birds are flitting about, squirrels chase. On a walk, buds are revealing and the breath of trees can be seen in the colour returning to their trunks. Even younger trees, with stems no wider than your finger, show the blushing of branch ends as you look across the meadow. Look at the water on the river – she is racing towards source, bringing ice and snow as they melt.”
Brain says, “Heart IS heavy.”
“Wait,” insists Heart. “Be still. Feel. Look. Listen. Sit for a moment – in your home on bed or couch or chair. In your car. At your workplace. Pause. Can you sense it? There is healing happening now. If you stop, you will know.
“Your actions can continue,” says Heart, “the kind ones, the helping ones, the true ones. But your thoughts must stop – those thoughts that have become shadowed in fear.”
Brain says, “How can you not be heavy? People are sick! People are dying and governments are making decisions and some are bad and wrong and what will become of us… of me…”
“Shhh,” says Heart. “Listen to my beating. Hear it on the wind and in the sun bringing heat and in the rain that helps us live and from the stars in the sky that twinkle. We are connected to more than just illness and death and governments.”
Have you ever written yourself a question, while you were writing, and then asked for the answer? Did the answer appear from your pen onto the page? If it didn’t, do you think perhaps the answer was there but you blocked it – you didn’t want to write it down for some reason? Like, it was too simple, it was wrong, it was “stupid”… try again and see if an answer appears and, without judging it, just write it down.
If it did appear, how did you feel about the answer, where do you think it came from? Was the answer right there in your DNA all along, some knowing, perhaps from a distant relative? Share your thoughts below!