When creating, when writing. When making love. when divining. When communing, when caretaking, when giving up. When rising again. Moving forward. Evolving….
When everything connects, we find that we are floating in space. This is the ultimate paradox: when we are creating something substantial, seemingly from nothing, moments escape while Spirit persists and we find we’ve manifested [fill in the blank].
So here we are, again. And there you have it. Again. [You know, fill in the blank.]
This creative activity, thank goodness, happens even when you’re standing still. Even your entire body embodies this. Expression and an abundance of form, this is your dancing with experience. When you dance in actuality, this Form gets to enjoy itself expressed, along with you.
What does this all mean? Well, you don’t know, and you don’t need to know. You are joy, and isn’t that just lovely, for lovely’s sake?
When I think about guys like Louis CK, the words “politically correct” aren’t necessarily the first ones to greet me, top of mind. No matter: the heart he has for his work and his words is undeniable.
Stumbling upon an NPR interview between Louis and Fresh Air’s Terry Gross brought me passionful insights about Louis CK’s creative process. Unexpectedly, grief makes a cameo in their chat. (Much Love for Patrice O’Neal.)
The way grief boomerangs back into thought and off again eventually cools, melting into something like appreciation. When ideas appreciate, they multiply. You experience and luxuriate in them again. It’s a gift when the idea is a person made manifest, again, even if it looks like grief.
In this podcast, Louis sums up his filmic/writing process from kernel to creation and the way that even grief makes its way into comedy, however briefly.
On creativity: essentially, his process went like this: “I don’t know (yet), and I don’t have to know where this scene—this writing, this creation—is going to take me.”
On relationships: he shares with us something he thought he knew about his buddies. How he changed his mind about that thought.
Words can’t do justice to the twinges of pain that arise when we think of folks who make transitions.
The Earth’s plates shift. Here come the new planes of experience. Here come changes–again? And then surprises—sad, sweet and in between.
We do our best to weave meaning with words and such. We fashion this and that inkling into wearable art. We rock those outfits straightway. We decorate our souls with them. Y’know? It’s fun(ction).