Rather unexpectedly, on a rather dreary day, I had a good experience in a local church (a place I very rarely visit). It felt a certain grace, a feeling of newness. Hungry for more, I tried to repeat experience, but it wasn’t the same.
The first day, I went back, as soon as I entered the church, a lady brought her grandchild in and showed her around the church. It was sweet to hear the lady explain about the church with this simplicity of speaking to a child. “That is Jesus and Mary in the window”. It felt as perfect a sermon as I ever remember hearing. I could have been disappointed that the magical silence of the previous day was not recreated, but this was a different type of newness. Also, when I think of the Christ, it is hard not to forget his message – “Be like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven”. The innocence of a child can be a good counterpoint to the seriousness of adults.
Expectation is always a problem in spirituality. If the glass is full with expectation, those new experiences can’t come. You can never know what comes next. If you can avoid expectation, you keep the glass empty, ready to be filled.
The second day I tried again, three minutes after entering, a man who had been smoking cannabis outside came into ask if there were any facilities he could use.
I guess, no mystical experience today.
It reminds me of a Zen proverb – “Enlightenment, then sweep the floor”. Or as Sri Chinmoy might say, you can eat the tastiest food everyday! [1]
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New writing inspiration
The other thing is whilst meditating in the church I felt a new writing inspiration; it felt like a different writing voice – a rather unexpected discovery. That evening I felt compelled to write on paper (for the first time in years); it flowed very easily and naturally. Encouraged by this I became inspired to buy a new pen and paper. But, recreating this writing inspiration has been much more difficult than just buying a fancy pen. The same spontaneous inspiration has not re-visited, instead I have been slipping into bad poetry, trying to force something new – caught between two worlds and two writing voices – not entirely sure which track to take. In the end it was a relief to go back to writing on the problems of the UK economy – slipping into that metronomic, monotonous style of an economist, that I could almost manage in my sleep.
Still it is definitely an interesting experience, and as a friend said, you may get the odd ‘easy’ experience, but then you have to work hard to keep the inspiration coming. You can’t always expect a spontaneous flow. It is an analogy for meditation; sometimes, you have a good meditation with seeming little effort, but that good meditation may require many days of patient effort, without any obvious results at all.
As an aspiring writer you need to find a ‘voice’ that is genuine and authentic – you can’t try to be someone else that you are not. But, equally, you can’t expect to get better without some discipline and hard work.
This below is a piece of writing I tried, but don’t really like. There are a few good lines, but it would require endless revision to make more palatable. I wouldn’t post in a publication where there are more than seven readers. But, still I’m going to post it here for personal interest. Hopefully, in ten years time I will look back and be embarrassed at the standard of my own writing.
The bird of inspiration
I like to write. Mostly it feels like my effort, but under my control – rational, logical – the economist in full flow. But I admire the poets – effortlessly subtle, nuanced glimpses of the Beyond. I can grow tired of a reasoned clarity, and yearn for a new freedom of expression.
This new bird of inspiration can strike at unexpected times – no logic to her grace, no will can summon her down. Sitting at my shrine, I wait to be swept away. But the body falls asleep. Stark reality amidst dreams of the Beyond.
What is the magic touch which puts you in tune?
Losing focus, I stare at the wall; by chance my eyes fall on the soul-birds of a supreme artist. These birds are inspiration-manifested and free – what need is there to create, when the heart tingles with delight?
But it is not for vanity I wish to write, it is the excitement of the chase – the barriers between worlds as thin as an iota of grace.
It is all there, it is all done, claim the yogi’s and seers. Open your heart and Eye to see the world within, they say.
Frustratingly close, though, this world of inspiration; tantalising and elusive, I wish it was so near.
How to express the inexpressible? How to capture the joy of the spirit? The little “I” cannot achieve. It is by necessity a voyage into the unknown, relying on faith. No longer my ability, but someone else’s rhythm, someone else’s game. God’s Vision, God’s toy, but will He wish to use me?
Footnotes
Soul-birds by Sri Chinmoy