I started writing a book.
Something I have dreamed of doing my whole life and I locked away for a while, convinced of all of the “can’ts” and “shouldn’ts” and “it’s not as good as” and “I’ll nevers.”
It’s made me wonder – what happens to dreams when they become trapped? The sleeping dreams that come to bring us information that we so often forget, ignore, try to get away from, or don’t pause to understand.
I’m learning that I love the language of dreams. That dreams from the night come in the spirit of healing and connection. That they can be entered into and explored and bring wisdom to integrate into life.
The waking dreams that we have and live in every day have the power to shape all that is.
What do we tell our dreams? How do we feed them? Or starve them out?
The dream is essential to the ability to create and in these last few weeks, I’ve felt it. I’ve felt some tangible yet intangible energy around me and within me.
I imagine it’s similar to what others feel too when entering into creativity or bringing dreams about. I’ve heard people describe it in their own ways. It feels to me as though it’s creative consciousness. Like some spirit of the book that wants to be brought forth working through me.
Just like in teaching or healing work, all I need to do is get out of the way and see what comes. To understand that this book is not for me to get attention or money or show others how much I know.
Let go of the outcome.
Before I could start I kept receiving the message to let go of the outcome.
Let go of the outcome. Just write.
So that’s what I started to do and I have loved every minute! It has felt like being in deep process not just with the spirit of the book and my own psychology and energy but also working with the increasing potency of energy peaking up to the Summer Solstice. The time that is ripe for manifesting on this plain. As though we were all dancing together, giving form and shape to the formless; bringing in something from another plane of existence into this one. It has felt powerful in a way that I have never truly understood or allowed power.
I’ve got to meet my inner critic. That voice that kept me from doing this all these years reared up trying to convince me that I was spending too much money on this, how could I *still* not have a job or any income. What was I thinking? That voice that struggles and writhes for my survival.
This time, perhaps because of the feeling of true power and connection I felt, I watched as the voice started to take me down familiar paths for a day or so and then, something changed. This time, I acknowledged the voice. I gave it thanks. I took it into my heart, told the voice it was right and that I loved it for trying to protect me.
Like magic, the voice disappeared. It disappeared completely!
Who knew that the key was giving it love?
These past three weeks I have felt as though there is an antennae on my crown chakra swooping around and connected to me, my third eye open and receptive, and I stayed grounded in my body. Feeling the swirl of creative consciousness above and, at the same time, a deep connection of something emerging from within. Instead of forcing it to appear, giving it patience. Committing to the practice of getting up and writing and allowing whatever wanted to emerge to come through.
It came. The story came. The characters came.
It felt like a time of great expansion and bliss. It took some time to allow myself to enjoy and then I fell into it. I wrote every day with complete focus. I’ve never had this much fuel and even fire and ability to hone it in for a sustained amount of time on one thing. I have 58K words so far and while I know most of those words will not be there whenever this book is “finished”, it’s a start.
It’s a way of getting it out.
I looked over my notes from the past short attempts at trying to write and I see that it’s the same story that keeps trying to come. It’s not here yet, not fully. There are big parts though that are known and present. They’ve arrived. Now I feel like after all of this expansion, I’m in a moment of contraction. Yesterday and today it’s stopped. For now.
It’s as though I can feel the pausing of the sun. The solstice energy now past peak and retreating and I am too. Momentarily.
There’s a lot there that is good. It has potential. There is a lot there that is not good. A former voice is trying to whisper that part to me more loudly – “this is not good – you should stop.” To which I keep hearing myself respond, “you’re right, it’s not good – yet – and it will be.” It’s in process and I then feel my heart glow and beam. A smile branches out on my face every single time.
This is, so far, the furthest I’ve been able to go and I did not and will not do it alone. I hear and receive and allow the support of those around me and their encouragement of this dream helps me keep coming back to it.
I have never felt this well. Never felt this in alignment with myself and with spirit. Or this happy. As my dream continues to get life and energy, so do I. We are merging in some way that feels beautiful and that beauty feels like power. True power.
I’m learning. I’m challenged. I’m engaged. I can feel the growth happening way down in the depths even as my brain rewires. This is not something I need to know how to do before doing it. It’s something that will continue to unfold until it is complete. As it has before, it will just keep coming and I have to listen. I need to give it space and voice.
I need to continue to trust in my creativity. To ask for help. To keep going.
This was a huge opening and now, in the moment of contraction, I get to pause. With a glow in my heart at all that has happened and knowing I’ll return to it again and again and again.
For me, this is much more than writing a book. It’s my medicine.