Spirituality is the art of transfiguration. We should not force ourselves to change by hammering our lives into any predetermined shape. We do not need to operate according to the idea of a predetermined programme or plan for our lives. Rather, we need to practise a new art of attention to our inner rhythm of our days and lives. This attention brings a new awareness of our own human and divine presence. . . . The intellect identifies the goal of the programme, and the will accordingly forces the life into that shape. This way of approaching the sacredness of one’s own presence is externalistic and violent. It brings you falsely outside your own self and you can spend years lost in the wilderness of your own mechanical, spiritual programmes. You can perish in a famine of your own making.
If you work with a different rhythm, you will come easily and naturally home to your self. Your soul knows the geography of your destiny. Your soul alone has a map of your future, therefore you can trust this indirect, oblique side of your self. If you do, it will take you where you need to go, but more importantly it will teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey. There are no general principles for this art of being. Yet the signature of this unique journey is inscribed deeply in each soul. If you attend to your self and seek to come into your own presence, you will find exactly the right rhythm for your life. The senses are generous pathways which can bring you home.
~John O’Donohue Anam Ćara
~John O’Donohue Anam Ćara
I cannot distinguish between creativity and spirituality. When you're practicing creativity you become a grounded individual, and that communicates the universal." ~Juila Cameron
Lately my children are taking up one of the simple joys that I experienced as a child growing up in Florida. They love to run around outside and try to catch salamanders. Because they are everywhere, it is easy to see them running across the driveway, up a wall or just sitting in the sun. They aren't as easy to catch though! I can recall the expectant and relentless pursuit to get one for myself and occasionally, if I moved slowly and quietly enough, I could grab one by the tail. For a moment my youthful desire and hard work met in celebratory triumph at my capture. But only for a moment, until the little critter ran off leaving me just its tail wiggling between my fingers. This fleeting feeling of total acquisition followed by just a remnant fragment, is a bit what it is like to talk about the creative process.
For the past year I have been deeply involved in the creative process thorough my study and experiential learning of Transpersonal Psychology. While it is difficult for me to write about the exact nature of the process itself, I am able to share a bit of my experience with the creative process and what it has meant to me. Without naming it as such, this past summer I began to explore creativity as my spiritual practice. In addition to my writing practice, I began to explore different mediums of expression and started to familiarize myself with the work of other artists as well. I discovered which artists I loved and what styles spoke to my soul. As I involved myself in my own art making, I became aware that intention and feeling are important keys to creativity. Rather than concerning myself with a specific "product," I have been enjoying the freedom to play and get messy again! I have allowed myself plenty of space to explore, wander, dream and imagine in a realm beyond right and wrong. My connection to the natural world has deepened, as I am taking more time to interact more consciously with my surroundings. My relationships are slowly becoming more harmonious as I am learning new ways to communicate and express myself. I have also been working with my dreams more deeply, using the nocturnal images of the subconscious as unique artifacts that can be plunged for greater understanding. Overall, the process continues to deliver me to more profound levels of integration and wholeness.
One of the images that comes to mind when I think of the process is that of a labyrinth. Unlike a maze with confusing patterns that present as a problem to be solved (activating the left brain thinking/ analyzing mind), a labyrinth is "unicursal" which means that the way in is the way out. The configuration utilizes the right brain--intuitive, creative, imaginary capacity. With nothing to "figure out" we are first presented with the choice of whether to enter or not. The same is true with the decision to embark on a spiritual path which places us into a cosmological framework that becomes a way for us to explore our own consciousness. The circuitous path to the center point and back out again, is a classic metaphor for both creativity and spirituality. It is through entering into the creative process; committing to making the journey, that we are transformed.
This entering and walking a path of consciousness demands nothing short of all of us--as Rumi says: "Half-heartedness doesn't reach into the mystery." Creativity pulls us toward the mystery and closer to our essential being. But first it will confound us. Being able to withstand long periods of ambiguity and confusion are required, as is negotiating a balance between surrender and will; discerning when to act and when to be still. Creativity is an inquiry. We begin a dialogue with the yet-to-be-known parts of ourselves and cultivate the conditions for a more authentic connection to our own souls. Soul loss is a common pathology today. The divide between our instinctual nature and our more "civilized" self has grown wide. This is mirrored in our disconnection from the rhythms of the natural world as they relate to our own cycles of death, renewal, and creativity. Not so long ago when a person that was a part of tribal community came to a shaman for healing, the first thing the medicine man or woman would ask is: "When did you stop singing? When did you stop dancing? And when did you stop being comfortable with silence?" I believe that there is great wisdom in us beginning our inquiry there as well.
The creative process as a spiritual pursuit takes the raw matter that is "us"--our biology and psychology and brings forth something entirely new. Popular methods for "self improvement" can be a trap that reinforce a belief that what we are seeking can be attained outside of us. The belief and subsequent behavior is rooted in our insecurity and unworthiness. As I see it, this is not about trying to update or restore that which is dilapidated or barely functioning within us, but rather, to intend to be a wholly new creation. That is, we must learn to place greater trust in our natural capacity for wholeness. We have to learn some discipline of quieting the mind with all of its reactive, involuntary, defensive functions in order to begin to attune to what is deeper. One of my teachers refers to it as "the work beneath the work." On one level we are going about our regular work or creative pursuits and all of a sudden we may glimpse that force or energy that has been working on us--we catch the whole lizard! We recognize that in conjunction with our intentional effort, something else is occurring beyond our limited understanding or willfulness. When these two levels of awareness meet--the 'personal' and the 'transpersonal' as I'll refer to them here--"transfiguration" occurs. "Art is the pouring through of the transpersonal to the personal" as Jungian analyst Marion Woodman describes this process. We become vessels for Spirit to pour through. The immanent and the transcendent meet for a moment in time through us. Our "work," as Joseph Campbell would say it, is to become "transparent to the transcendent." And before we know it, that moment of sublime union has left and there we are holding just piece of it. But that little piece is enough for us to live on, sometimes for years.
One of the foundational qualities that must be in place for this kind of journey is TRUST. We must trust ourselves deeply. We must cultivate greater levels of faith in our own understanding of God. We must make a practice of learning how to communicate with and really listen for where we are called. This dialogue can take place through the creative process, and we can use our explorations as a way of strengthening our trust. So with this intention, this month's theme is focused on trust and the creative exploration that you are invited to try is twofold. First begin to journal with the questions above--when, in your life, did you stop singing, dancing, and being comfortable with silence? Let the inquiry serve as your guide into learning to trust the process. Second, take some time to connect to the natural world by slowing down and really seeing your surroundings. Take your inquiry into nature and ask it to show you what you need to learn. Just simply be open to receiving anything that arises. Take a slow walk. Sit near a tree or lake or favorite spot outdoors and let it "speak" to you. Getting closer to the earth--literally getting low to the ground--allows us to practice humility--which comes from the word "humus" or earth. This also serves as an embodied practice, grounding the experience into our physiology. Commit to giving yourself even just a few minutes a day to re-visit this dialogue and be open to letting your heart guide you. Writer Natalie Goldberg speaks about writing as one of her spiritual practices and she says: "I trusted in what I loved. . . . Trust in what you love, continue to do it, and it will take you where you need to go."
Trust the process. Don't be afraid of your path. It knows the way.
