I find it difficult to do two things at once when I’m writing.
I either look for other tasks and the writing rapidly fades away. Or, I’m in the zone, a state of mind where I’m oblivious to everything except the creative flow of ideas, exploding like fireworks, and the hum of the wordsmith, each word selected for its nuance, its sound. A well written piece, no matter the topic, must capture the reader with its perfect expression of thought and structure of language.
I’ve been writing a lot. The effort is like mediation. Something sublime embraces me and time ceases to exist. In a sense, it is the ecstatic experience that mystics have. Except, God doesn’t get chatty. I’m lucky that I have a few passions that induce this feeling of integration; writing, photography, and reading.
Occasionally, I find this feeling of belonging through other experiences. About 10 years ago, Becky and I went to Brazil to spend a week at the spiritual compound of a mystic healer, Joa de Deus, John of God. Becky went to encounter the sacredness of the place and, perhaps, find healing. I went to see and feel what it was like to be at a destination for 100,000s of pilgrims from Brazil and around the world. It was a ancient experience, translated into the 21st century.
I had few expectations. I knew that I would get some good photos. I had read about the place and Joa and the only thing that intrigued me was the Meditation Room. When people came to see Joa, they followed an isle from the waiting area, through the Meditation Room and then beyond, to stand before Joa. I wanted to mediate in that room while a stream of pilgrims filed through. However, this room was by invitation only. You couldn’t wander in and take an empty folding chair.
Becky and I joined the seekers slowly making our way towards Joa. As we went through the Mediation Room, I became more convinced that this was the place I wanted to be, also recognizing that it wasn’t going to happen. When I stepped before Joa. He asked, why I was there. What did I need.? I said, to learn. I did need anything. Joa looked at me and sent me to the Meditation Room. That was it. The next 4 hours passed quickly. I lost all sense of time. When it was time for lunch, a free simple meal for anyone that was hungry. I joined the pilgrims for a tasty and filling bowl of bean stew with homemade bread. I had experienced the mystical state of belonging.
I have a similar experience when connected. The words come from someplace else and spill across the page.
The burnt pizza? That was my attempt to fix lunch while composing one of my blogs. I set t in the oven set two separate timers to alert me when the thing would be done. It was the smoke that got my attention. I can do one or the other. I can’t do both.
Yes, I ate it.