Creative Clarity

Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to see things in a completely different way.

Creativity is a shape shifter. It is something that is not defined with pattern. It carries with it, its own mentality. One moment it takes upon itself this form, the next that. Creativity involves breaking out of established patterns in order to see things in a completely different way. It is this bedazzling spirit that appears to all of us, yet is hard to identify its existence because there is not one of us that can agree upon what we read or saw as far as ourselves or our eyes are concerned.

Are the wielding of colors upon canvas, just as similar as paint chips and wallpaper? Is this evident of its creative existence? What about a pen versus paper, a rosebush bordered along a garden path? Yes and yes. What about the cooking up of love’s revolution? Why the hell not? Is it touching with delicate love the petals of a rose, or pulling off the Big Sweat of the swelling summer, or tying upon your line a pale morning dun because the trout see them better in the morning sun? Yes, yes, and yes. What about finding ones voice, or rearing a child towards adulthood, or better yet helping raise a nation from its prayerful knees? Hell yes.

Creativity is the tending to love like the orchard it is, finding the words that see fit. And when the cosmic thread finds its fabric, you sew the creative life that has been so graciously given to you. All of the above belong to the creative river of life. Creativity is the celestial river beneath the churning river of life, which flows from in and out of our souls.

Some say the creative life is in the living of ideas, some say it’s by doing, I believe it rests in the simplicity of being you. It is the love of something, having so much love for something—whether it be a band, a collection of words, an image, an idea, let alone be it humanity, that touches us in a way nothing else can. All that can be done to satisfy this craving is to create. It is not a matter of wanting or needing to, it is not a singular act of will; one solely must.  

The creative force flows over the spiritual terrain of our soul looking for the natural hollows, the channels that exist within us. We become basins of belief, tributaries of truth; we are the shallow pools, the serene ponds, and most important the sanctuaries of sanity.  The wild creative force flows into whatever garden bed we build for it, those we are born gifted with and those we have to dig with our own bare hands.  We don’t always have to fill them, but first we must build them.  

In lore, there is an idea that if one prepares a special spiritual place, then the creative force, or source of the soul, will hear it, sense its way to it, and call it home. Whether this force is summoned by the prayer of biblical proportions, “go forward and prepare a place for the soul” or, as in the movie Field Of Dreams in which a farmer hears a voice urging him to build a baseball stadium in the middle of midwestern nowhere USA. “If you build it they will come,” is a way of saying to prepare a place for the longevity of the creative force. It induces the soul to take the imagination to places that life could only dream of.

Once the inner river finds the estuaries and branches in our soul, our creative life fills and empties, rises and falls just like the seasons of a wilderness river. These cycles or patterns are responsible for the different climates of spiritual survival. Certain patterns of paths are the ones we must walk to get through the arid desert of the mind. Things are created; thoughts are fed, then fall back and die away, all in their own right time, over and over again. Creating one thing at any certain point in the river feeds those who come to the river, feeds those far downstream, yet even others in the deepest pools of imagination.

Creating is not a solitary moment. This is the clarity of creativity. This is its power. Whatever is touched by it, whoever hears it, whomever tasted its ingredients with the perfect balance, they sense it, they see it, and they are fed by it. This is why beholding someone else’s creative words, imageS, or ideas fills us up, and inspires us to do our own creative work. A single creative deed has the budding potential to feed this starving world. One single creative act can cause a river’s torrent to carve through miles of stubborn stone.

I have always thought of the following song’s inspiration as being that of creativity, more so necessarily than that of female persuasion. See you all soon. Thanks for stopping by.

—BeLove

Being Love

We can only take with us what we have given; and all we can give is the sacrifice of ourselves.

This post should be considered as a philosophical parable. This parable in particular is spoken with a sense of urgency that we must begin to love all beings because divinity resides in every being. Within all of us is an invitation to plunge into the core of the absolute, to blend in with love, as salt does in an ocean. As it stands now, the time has come, to undoubtedly take that plunge.

The only way to know love is by becoming it. The only proof we have of pure love, although decisive and definitive, is by experience, which runs the risk of slipping off the edge into madness or even yet, sinking six feet under. But better than both of those is the experience of absolute love. Experience is essential to the detachment from and the surpassing of those finicky margins of love’s mental state, its desires, and continuous encroachments.

The Energy Of Delight.

It is the supreme illustration that we become what we know, and what we know is the authenticity of what we are, that being love. The inner experience of love is the greatest wealth there is. This is because love constitutes the very essence of the being, and the only way to truly find the being is to love. At this level of realization, all opposition for the need of “proof” evaporates. We ourselves are the proof of what we are looking for when it comes to love. For Christ’s sake, do we not demonstrate it to ourselves everyday?

My ears begin to ring as if angels are singing with a harmony as exquisite as it is esoteric. When spiritual destiny beckons, you follow it, even if you’d rather back out. Everything works and falls into place for the best. There is a sort of metaphysical law that forbids us from keeping such spiritual animation to ourselves—we must share it with others or else it will be the cause to the effect of having it crush us. Personal fulfillment doesn’t mean possessing a certain enlightenment; it means to establish a network of communications that will diffuse it.

Others need to be awakened, but we need them to avoid falling asleep. Those who have accumulated too much of the long aforementioned spiritual energy of delight and sit idle with it will eventually be consumed by it. It has to circulate, all the while being distributed with the hope for humanity.

The Time Has Come

When we are alleviated to the heights of a certain experience, our unconscious is no longer encumbered by and submerged in emotion, as it avoids the inflation of ego. We don’t carry the right to egotistically keep such a treasure, when we’ve received so much, we must know how to give everything we have. How’s the old saying go? He who does not respond to a gift by giving is a thief.

It is as a matter of fact, even in Heaven, we wouldn’t be happy knowing there are so many unhappy. Happiness is something that will crumble to dust if confined to possessiveness in the exclusive sense. Happiness must respond with gumption in the moments when pain and suffering come to intimidate the mental state. This is especially true when bound with the rebirth of a deeper understanding within. Taking care of the weak and the unfortunate, or simply those, who for the moment are in distress, or are encountering some of life’s setbacks, will protect us more than any wall ever will.

Since I have stumbled upon the topic of a wall, please allow me to further build on it. There are but two ways of facing a wall. The first being that of the desperate, banging their heads against the lack of a true issue. The other, that of the power of pure love sitting in front of it, as it disappears by the delight of contemplation. It is in the depths of contemplation that one finds a certain way of putting one’s self on the edge to be more centered. As he lights the flame of love within him, he holds the wall to candle and watches as the wall of hatred burns to ashes. While the flames of love are but the mirrors in which I see Thou.

Now I realize what we are. Now if only everyone could realize this! But it may only be able to explained in the poetic sense; even then it is problematic to go around telling people that they are walking around shining like the sun.

The Mask Of A Dream

This poetic sense that comes from within the love of ourselves is by understanding the sensibility and value of solitude. It is in fact the vocation of solitude to make us realize things with such clarity that would be impossible to see for those who are immersed in the cares, the illusions, and the technological automation of a herded collective existence. You see, solitude is necessary for the broadening of our inner horizons.

My solitude, however, is not for my own, for I see how much it belongs to everyone—and that I have a responsibility for it in their regard, not just my own. It is because I am one with them that I owe it to them to be alone, and when I am alone they are not “they” but my own self. There are no strangers in this life.

It was then, as if in a moment’s notice that I came to understand the secret beauty of love in the depths where neither sin nor self-knowledge cared to reach. At the core of love’s reality, the person sees all others through His eyes. If only we could see ourselves as we really are. If only we could all see each other this way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…I suppose that the worse thing that could come from this truth, would be that we fall down and worship each other with unconditional love. But this cannot be seen, only believed and “understood” by a peculiar gift.

In closing, it is us as free-thinking individuals to testify that a priori, anyone can take a lovers’ leap into the infinite, that for any one, so long as they are prepared to pay the price and truly want it—which means wanting nothing—this natural annexation from desire is where manifestation swims laps in the ocean of possibility.

The candle burns in a flickering silence. I had reached the edge of an inexpressible fullness. But what was most exquisite was that I didn’t know it. I wasn’t aware of this extinction of everything because my ego had extinguished itself.

And it is in this return to Unity that there is an obvious return to the Essential. And it is this return to the Essential that will make it possible for the Essential to return.

—BeLove