On Writing

When I want to write, I slip into an awareness of my heartspace.  There my intention lives wordlessly:  I AM.  This intention fuels me in ways that are subtle and surprising.  I find myself making my way “in the world” with lightness of step.  It is my real life.

As soon as I light the fire inside – with the fuel of awareness, I feel a sense of flow.  I am okay with the unknown, because it is all me, and it is essentially benevolent.  I find that concepts of write and wrong (or right and “rong”), have no thing to hold onto; cannot take root.  So, rootless, they flow away.

What remains?  an upwelling.  It feels nurturing and expanding.  It asks for nothing.  It allows for everything, without judgement.

I’m going to take a moment to ask my heart what it might like to “say” or have “amplified”:

“This is meditation.  Looking within, feeling, taking the time to sort out what is real and what is not, letting the mind go, this is stillness.”

And this is the place from which I want to live my life.  From a place of inner poise and stillness.  This is why I write this morning, and why I publish.  To nourish this strain which sings from stillness and to amplify it.  It is my choice, it is my life, today and always.

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