Reality and the fine line between inspiration and insanity.

[Starla]

This is something rather nebulous. I've been finding it hard to put into words, and so I hope you'll forgive me if it's a little troublesome to interpret.

About a year ago - almost to the day actually - I began writing a story.
Well that's not quite it. I sat down at my desk with my notebook and some brown ink and began to write. I began to write to someone.

I began to write to a person who'd been in my mind for quite a while. His name is Benedict. And when I began writing, Benedict was really really cross with me. You see, about a day later, after I wrote to him, he wrote back. Through me, clearly. I've not been receiving letters through the postman. Anyway, he was a bit miffed that it had taken me so bloody long to listen to him. He had a story to tell and with everything going on, and me being such a novice, I couldn't hear that story - I wasn't listening properly. Despite his shouting at me with a pen I wrote back and so began a long and eventful correspondence.

We're on notebook number five now, and no matter how exciting Benedict's story becomes - or how much he makes me blush, because he does sometimes, frequently in the cafe at the top of town - I can't stop the way it's happening. It has to be this way. I can't write 'about' Ben's story (unless I'm explaining it to someone else), or write it for him, or direct the course of events. All I can do is ask questions. He has to write it.

So far so weird. So far so long winded. But it's more than that.

Have you ever read a story where you were so totally and utterly engrossed that everything around you stopped. You start at ten in the morning and then at about six that evening, you realise you haven't blinked for about four hours and you need the loo? Well, I've been like that this week. I keep finding books that tell me about what it is I think I'm experiencing.

The books I've been reading all have one thing in common. They are written by authors who have, through one way or another, convinced themselves that their 'characters' are ...for want of a MUCH better word - real.

I don't know about you, but I can always tell those books which have been written by authors who don't believe this. I put them down in about thirty seconds. Because of this it can take me a while to find a book I want to read. But when I've found it I will do nothing else until I've finished.

And so, the question is, I suppose - What do I mean by real?

This is what baffles me. My life is grounded in reality. I have a pretty mundane existence for large periods of time. Except when I write. Properly. This type of thing doesn't count I don't think. I'm still thinking somewhat about laundry.

I mean, when I really write. When I really write, then peculiar things begin to happen. It's like magic, I suppose. I've been scratching away and I've actually turned round because I caught a glimpse of one of them. And then there's that feeling when there's someone in the room. You know, when you feel your hair moving, or a breath on your cheek, or the pressure drops or changes in someway. Ben's feeling is different to the others and so I can always tell it's him. Another writer once said to me that it's like tuning into the right radio station.

It's not just that though. Not only the feeling you get when you're in a spooky room and you think your nan might've come back to haunt you, telling you to clean out the fridge. It's more than that.

It's as though if I write for long enough, or read for long enough for that matter, that I cease to be in this place entirely, and I've gone somewhere else. Sometimes, like yesterday when I read two novels in a row that hit upon this point exactly, I can hardly get back again and I'm in a daze.

I know you're possibly thinking that I really should be packed off to the loony bin now, but please hear me out.

For a long time this has been happening to me. When I was a student it frightened me, and I tried all sorts of ways to stop it happening. Now though, I'm less afraid of it. In fact it excites me. And that's why when I can't get back there, or when something's stuck, I get very frustrated.

Anyway - about these books. As I read across the centuries I find small references to it all the time. From fairy tales to modern day crime stories. The belief that authors have that somehow their 'creations' are in fact completely real, living in some elsewhere, and that writers are simply required to sit in front of a laptop and tell the story. The belief, perhaps, that *all* stories are true, just not from where we're sitting.

And so here's a request:

Do you have any books that have done that to you? Transported you in every possible way.

Are you a writer and have a relationship with your characters (or friends, as I now like to call mine) that goes beyond what you first expected. Are you less contriving your story, than channeling it?

This is from the book I was reading yesterday.

"I knew this story - thought it held no surprises for me. But i was seeing people that i'd read about, so already i felt i knew them. i was like one of those relatives on the dockside waving the men goodbye, minding about whether or not they came home again.

and then it came real.

i watched so intently - concentrated so hard that there was no sofa, and no screen, no chime from the clock, no traffic outside, no whine from the fridge or thump from the central heating. And it came real. So real. So real. So real. So real. So real." (the white darkness)

Once again I apologise for sounding like I'm a bit unhinged. Just pass by and pat me on the head if you think so. I'd rather some of you tell me that I'm not alone in all this though...


Love from

starla

[Dan Goodwin]

Starla, I'm not going to be patting you on the head : )

There's another discussion in the main forum called Artists, Alternative Personas and Living In Character... that overlaps with some of the ideas you bring up here, so check that out too.

I have two main thoughts...

Firstly, I've certainly had scenes, and moments with characters of my own making that resonate very strongly in my mind and keep returning to me. Sometimes they are completely fictional (as much as anything CAN be completely fictional) and sometimes they are exaggerated or enhanced versions of people I know already. Or perhaps a memory. If you imagine a memory as a photograph of a moment in time, then because that was a special moment you hold it close, in your mind. Each time you revisit, you add a little highlight or different colour, to make it more precious, to preserve its value to you . Literally like sketching or painting extra details on top of the photo of the memory, or maybe like digitally airbrushing it to bring out the best parts and gloss over the parts you want to forget... So there are constantly stories and scenes and characters evolving in my mind in this way, based on memories, fragments and versions of real people and fictional characters. And that all does blur a little sometimes and maybe we forget who we've actually met in the real world and who's a dream character or fictional character.

The second thought is around the theory that we already know everything we need to know and are uncovering that, rather than adding new knowledge. Rather than architects designing new structures apparently from nothing, instead we're like archaeologists, dusting off the layers of grime and dust that have settled on the thoughts and knowledge most important to us. This extends to our art. We already have it all within our mind, we just have to find ways of bringing it out.

So when we come up with a new character, they're not new, they've simply stood up and come to the front of the stage for the first time we can remember. We didn't notice them before, but now it's their time.

I had/have this experience with songs. I'll just have a melody appear in my head and then put words to it that fit the phrasing of the melody. The song in its fragmented form will rattle around in my head for days and it feels like a song I've known for years, but I know I'm not just singing someone else's tunes. Again it feels like the archaeologist with a tiny brush, carefully excavating the dust to reveal the treasures underneath...

Very interesting discussion Starla!

Dan

[Barbara Ann Storrier]

Dan sez

" We already have it all within our mind, we just have to find ways of bringing it out."

I agree with this ... and I also feel there's a collective unconscious from whence we draw. I've never had the writing experiences you speak of, but often catch glimpses of movement at unexpected times when my mind is engaged in something intently, and turning to look always reveals that it was not physically there.

Perhaps it's time for finding a group online that is focused on psychic abilities (something I believe is innate in everyone and there for development if it is of interest). I belong to a Yahoo group called Psychic Living. I don't really consider myself psychic, have had a couple of unusual things happen but nothing steady ... but I do feel a lot more intensity in my intuition lately. It's interesting to hear of the experiences of others. Thanks for being brave and sharing this with us, Starla. It may be possible you are "channelling" other souls, and those who have had experience with this can very likely help you avoid pitfalls and keep a hold on the "real" world. Matter of fact, one of the members of the Psychic Living group recently joined CCS at the invitation of another member ... perhaps you two will find each other :)

[Starla]

Hello :)

Thank you for not thinking that I'm losing my mind even if sometimes I feel that I am. I think sometimes that I believe in everything, because every time I discuss this, people come up with ideas like yours or dan's and it all seems to fit.

I've had a couple of people say that they think my Benedict is a past life, others think he's a soul all by himself. He's real to me though. And he's always showing me fabulous bits of literature and great 30s music.

I was thinking of talking to some people with psychic experiences because when I write the most difficult thing for me is coming back down to earth afterwards. I can feel like i'm drifting for days if I'm not careful. Hopefully they'll have some ideas about that.

love
starla
xx

[Starla]

Ah yes,

Now I've heard that theory before. About knowing everything already. I think it's all just different ways at looking at the same thing.

I'm not sure if I'm even able to answer what you've said, Dan. I keep drifting from one idea to the other about this. I'm reading some stuff by Walter De La Mare. He had some interesting ideas about the subconcious mind and imagination. It was by a lovely bit of serendipity that i found him. I find most things by wandering through the Oxfam shop here. Once I've absorbed it all I'll let you know what I think. He wrote about Rupert Brooke who's my fave at the moment. I love the way that they all connect together. I've found myself drifting through literature like this of late. Just connecting one to the next and building the picture as you go.
i was reading a lot of Forster earlier in the year, and just by wandering through essays and letters, I found that the fella he based one of his characters on lived only up the road from here, and that he wrote some beautiful piano pieces as an amateur that have never been played. The archive that holds them is only a short train ride away and so on a free day I'll pop over and get some copies.

Oh I know all this is a little removed from what I was originally on about, but for me I find it hard to separate any aspects of my creativity. Perhaps I do feel as though I'm getting information direct from some great creative soup that has everything that anyone has ever created swirling round in it. It's quite a heady thing and I am always so excited when I find anything that seems to *fit*.

One of these days perhaps I'll be able to explain what i'm really on about.

love starla
x

[Dan Goodwin]

Starla, you said: "I find it hard to separate any aspects of my creativity."

Why do you need to? When we're truly in tune with our creativity and creative potential it seeps into every aspect of our life and influences it for the better. I don't think it's really necessary to put different parts in different boxes.

I believe being creative is a state of living, being, thinking, doing, not just about occasionally making stuff.

Dan

[Starla]

Oh Dan, :D

I'm glad you think that.

I suppose that's why I'm here. Because I live in a world where stuff's supposed to be put in boxes and I don't really know how my own ideas fit in with that way of living.

love starla
x

[Barbara Ann Storrier]

Starla, I think you're on the right path and finding your truths within and that's where they are, after all. It's exciting and sometimes frightening as well, but there really isn't anything to fear ... I don't think you'll be stuck anywhere you don't want to be :)

I just ran across this on the Psychic Living yahoo group and was wondering about posting it in the Intuitive Arts group, but your post was highlighted for some reason on the main page so I came here and this looks like a good place :)


You Already Know
An ancient myth tells that when human beings were about to be created, a
committee of gods got together to decide where the secret of life should be
placed. All the gods were in agreement that the secret should be hidden somewhere
clever, so that people would have an adventure to find it. But the gods had
a hard time agreeing where it would be most challenging for people to locate
the treasure.
"Let's hide the secret of life at the top of the highest mountain!" one god
suggested.
"No, no," replied another. "People will invent airplanes and helicopters and
rappelling equipment, and then everyone will be able to get to it."
"Then how about at the bottom of the sea?" another god posed.
"Same thing," another deity answered. "They will invent submarines and
diving equipment, and that will be the end of the game."
The gods sat around, hands on chin, nearly stumped, until one god lit up. "I
have it!" he exclaimed. "Let's hide the answer within each person - they'll
never think to look there!"


And so it has turned out. When we need to know a truth, we tend to look
outside ourselves for answers, and the last place we look is in our own heart.
Meanwhile, all that we could ever need to know abides at the core of our being.

The great inventor Thomas Edison used this principle when he needed help
with an invention. When Edison felt stymied in the midst of a difficult
experiment, he would lie down on a couch with a rock in his hand. As he dozed off
into a light sleep, he sank into his subconscious mind, which he recognized to
be an avenue of infinite intelligence, from which all of his best ideas came.
Then, as his body relaxed, Edison would let loose of his hold on the rock,
which would drop to the floor with a loud "thud!" that would startle him out of
his nap. At that moment Edison still had fresh in mind the idea he had
contacted in his sleep state, and he would quickly write it down. That was
Edison's secret. He went on to generate over 5,000 important patents, including the
electric light, the phonograph, the alkaline battery, and motion pictures.
When I studied organizational development in graduate school, my professor
wrote a sentence on the blackboard that ultimately meant more to me than all
the techniques I learned. It said: A consultant is someone who borrows your
watch to tell you what time it is.
The greatest service any therapist, teacher, psychic, astrologer, or
counselor can offer you is to remind you of what you already know. You have probably
sought help or advice from several people or resources, and still felt
unfulfilled. Then someone said something that really resonated within you, and you
said, "That's it!" How did you know that was it? Why did that one piece of
advice move you more than the others? You already knew, and you were just
waiting for someone out there to call your attention to the answer that matched
your inner knowing.
Dr. Norman Vincent Peale, author of the perennially popular book, The Power
of Positive Thinking, was sitting on an airplane next to a young woman who
struck up a conversation with him. When she discovered that Dr. Peale was a man
of seasoned wisdom, she decided to ask him for help with a dilemma. "I have
been dating two men and both of them have proposed to me," she explained to
Dr. Peale. "I'm not sure which one to say 'yes' to. Can you give me some
advice?'
"Sure," Dr. Peale answered abruptly. "I don't think you should marry either
of them."
"Why is that?" asked the young lady, surprised.
"If you have to ask me who to marry, you're not in love with either of
them," he answered.
When something is really right for you, you know it. And when something is
not right for you, you know it. Your job is not to find someone else to
dictate your truth, but to get in touch with your inner guidance. Trust your
intuitions and gut feelings. Your inner being is always speaking to you through the
voice of your heart. Honor what your heart is telling you, and you befriend
an impeccable guide that will take you all the way home.

Alan Cohen is the author of 15 popular inspirational books, including the
award-winning A Deep Breath of Life. To order Alan's best-selling novel My
Father's Voice or request a free catalog of Alan's books, tapes, and seminars,
call 1-800-462-3013 or visit Alan's web site at _www.alancohen.www_
(http://www.alancohen.com/)

[Starla]

Ohhh,

Wow. I'm constantly amazed by the stuff people write here, but blimey, that's going to take some digesting. Thank you SO much for that. I will have a good think and look at alan's stuff and I'll write something coherent in response to your ideas.

thank you


love
starla
xxxx

[Hannah]

I'm not sure what you mean by real, but the experience of "this reality" melting is a common thing for me, though mainly in the negative -- the "This can't be happening" feeling.

[Dan Goodwin]

Hi Hannah, do you mean in terms of when you're creating or in life more generally?

[Hannah]

Yeah, in life. I thought that's what you meant.

[Barbara Ann Storrier]

I think I know that feeling you're speaking of, Hannah. It seems to come when I have certain expectations of others and they let me down.

I'm not saying one should lower their expectations, because most of us expect the best from others if we expect the best from ourselves, and that is as it should be, in my opinion. However, sometimes we expect more than others can give.

One thing we can do is to change the way we deal with disappointment. Eventually we can learn to detach from disappointment, get back up and go on seeking the best for ourselves. By having experiences like this, we learn what is true for ourselves, and allow others to be and do what they will, without expecting them to be or do what we would be or do, creatively or otherwise.