Many of us have practices, things that we do to honor that sense of the sacred in our lives. We may have a meditation practice, or a yoga practice. I was just reading about some who go a little farther and consider themselves to have a gardening practice, or what they call an exercise practice.…
This is the story of the oddest thing, a spiritual experience (or hallucination, depending on your point of view) that happened to me almost a year ago. It’s taken me this long to even consider writing about it.…
Last week I finished a week of broadcasting live from my studio every night at 9 PM for 7 days. It was intense, scary. Crazy fun.
Here’s what didn’t happen that surprised me:…
When you take your pen in hand and press its tip into the paper the ideas begin to flow.
When you open a new document and press the tips of your fingers against the keys to form the first word, the rest of the words begin to come.
When you sit at your instrument with the intent not merely to play but to create, and then touch your fingers against the strings or the keys, the music starts to flow.
Magic is summoned. The dance between the temporal and the eternal, between the human and the divine, begins. But we must always take the first step.
That first step is both internal and external. It is the intent to create and then the act of physically beginning.
Many times our first few steps are clumsy, as we try to lead, but before long we are merely following. The process becomes less about writing and more about taking dictation. We seem to be guided by some unseen force, by some troop of angels that moves us along the path toward greater and greater creativity, moving us along the path toward a more divinely inspired, utterly sublime creation.
And this is why our best work seems not to come from us, but through us.
At other times the dance continues in its awkwardness, as we make our common-sense decisions, fearing the work will turn out to be very commonplace. Only after time has passed do we return to the work to see the touch of the divine.
Creativity is funny. The only wrong way to do it is to not actually do it.
When we begin to do something brave, unseen forces come to our aid. Creation is a brave act, and never is that promise of guidance, of assistance more true than when we truly begin and do so with intent.
Our lives and everything we create are temporary. Forgotten tomorrow, like watercolors washed by the sea. So if you have an idea for a song, don’t wait. Write that song. And then sing it loudly for as long as it occupies your heart. If you have a story within, write that story. A blog post? Write it. Post it.
Above all, don’t worry that it might not be the right song, the right blog post, the right story for this moment. This particular moment is all we have. The sea washes away all. All colors, all words fade. All music washes away. We have only this moment to shine.
But what an amazing moment it is. In this moment, your colors are exactly what your soul – and possibly another soul – needs to make their moment brighter. You truly may never know. Each of our short lives are immeasurably less for not having seen the bright colors you can bring to this moment.
And so while the sea of time washes all things away, our lives and our art are a dazzling procession, moment upon moment upon beautiful moment of shining, of music, of words, of color. Take your place in the throng. Sing your song loudly. Write your words boldly. Splash your colors with abandon. And give them all with gratitude to your fellow humans, and to the sea. Don’t wait.