Sorry for the delay of this letter. It must have gotten lost in the mail or something.
The truth is that on Friday, I spent the entire day in a feverish creative state, working simultaneously on a composition, a graphic design project, and another letter. I reached a point of such exhaustion and frustration that I decided to dedicate Saturday to doing absolutely nothing productive.
The creative process is like that sometimes. Sometimes the most wonderful things appear out of nowhere and without any effort, and other times it feels impossible to write a single verse.
I am learning to recognize when that effort comes up and letting it go. I suspect that effort, so highly valued in our culture, is actually a form of resistance. This is very evident during the creative process. It’s like kicking an oak hoping an apple will fall. Instead, I am learning to do things from a place of power.
Like this photo, fruit of the most exquisite inspiration (the reason, down to the bottom right).
The difference between doing things by force or from a place of power lies in who’s the doer. Effort appears when the ego is the one doing. Power appears when the ego steps aside, and it’s the infinite field that creates.
The ego is limited, insecure, has limited energy, and looks among the known to try to make something new. Power is limitless and creative. When one creates from there, one can spend hours creating amazing things, non-stop, and not only does one not get tired, but actually experiences increasing energy.
The same Intelligence that creates, moment by moment and full of delight, the flowers of this letter, is the Intelligence to which we can open our minds, so that we become its instruments. If it is capable of creating the entire universe out of emptiness, it is capable of finishing the song or choosing the right color to make the work as harmonious as possible.
A prayer I often use to step aside is, “Lord, I am your instrument, use me as a vehicle of your creation.” Other times, I change the word creation and say love or peace instead, depending on where I want to direct my life that day.
But well, on Friday, the sky was overcast, and there was no way to finish the letter.
I’m also in the early stages of a pharyngitis. Very timely, as I have my first concert in 4 years next Saturday. Clearly, it’s a defense mechanism from my fearful ego, saying something like: “if I get sick now, I won’t have to face such a dangerous situation.” Thoughts are powerful. They can make you sick. They can make you heal.
The good thing is that it’s been a great opportunity to let go of all the negative emotions I’ve accumulated regarding my voice. I feel like the Universe is telling me, “if you want to sing, let go of your voice completely.” That’s what I’m doing, Beloved, and the truth is that, despite being sick once again, and having a concert in a few days, I feel tremendous peace. No trace of anxiety, fear, frustration, or sadness. Every time such an emotion arises (and they sure do), I quickly surrender it, and it dissolves into the light of my consciousness, leaving behind only joy and trust. If God wants me to sing, I will sing. If not, it was nice while it lasted, and on to the next thing.
With this state of the universe, on Saturday, I decided not to work at all and rest. I slept, walked, did my practices and prayers (the Sanskrit word for this is sadhana, isn’t it beautiful?), cooked a delicious pasta alla norma, and went to the movies to see Dune with B.
Today we went out for a walk, and Boston was full of flowers. How grateful I was to have brought the camera. This is my report of how beautiful this Sunday has been.
There’s not much else to report on this side of the Atlantic. Considering this will probably reach you on Monday, I’ll leave you with a gem from my dear Dr. Hawkins, whose books I highly recommend. A good place to start is “Letting Go: The Pathway of Surrender.” The peace I am experiencing despite the apparent disaster of being sick is thanks to what I learned in that book.
The following paragraph is a transcript I made from one of his lectures (“Perception & Positionality” – June 2004). I hope it helps you start the week and the rest of your life on the right foot.
On how to recontextualize the feeling of being buried in work:
You give everything you do your maximum and you surrender it to God as you do it. That way you bring up the joy of your own existence. Like right at this moment: I’m answering you to the best I can and I’m very conscious and aware of your presence, and the presence of the books on the table and the presence of the audience. I’m being maximally what I could be at this moment. I have no regret that I’m not being more than what I’m being, because I’m being all that I could be right now. When I dig a ditch, I dig it with absolute ferocity. So, I give maximum what I am to everything I do. Whether it’s mowing the lawn, petting the kitty, writing a book, you knock your brains out to do the maximum, to actualize your potential. And that brings you joy so that every moment is equally joyful. The source of joy is within you. So, be the best you can be. Be the best parent, the best spouse you can, be the best citizen you can, be the best spiritual example you can be, and you’re doing all that simultaneously. What we can do for God is simultaneously what we can do for ourselves. To be all that we can be to the fullest extent we can be that. You will never have any regret.
Divinity delights in the fulfillment of that which it created.
That’s all for today. Wishing you a beautiful week.
With all my love,
A.
