Not Even Noise
The other morning I was just starting to take dictation for the day's Heavenletter when there was a knock on my door -- the door that adjoins my daughter's apartment, that is.
It was Mark who is doing some work in my daughter's house. The door that adjoins our apartments has not been latching. Mark wanted to fix that. He said, "I'm going to be making some noise. Is that all right?" I said, "Very all right."
And then I came back to my desk to continue Godwriting.
It was a loud motorized sound that Mark made. Maybe it was a drill -- I'm not sure, but it was loud and not exactly pleasant. Then it was followed by a higher-pitched sound. I have no idea what that was. Then there was what clearly sounded like sanding. Then there was some loud hammering and some lighter hammering, all in different tones. And so, as Mark worked with various tools and the noise went back and forth and up and down -- at the same time, my fingers merrily typed along the computer keys.
The point is that Godwriting doesn't need perfect circumstances. Neither din nor snow nor rain nor sleet nor someone else in your house nor anything prevents Godwriting!
When someone sometimes asks, "How do you Godwrite, how do you do it?" the best I know to say is: "You just write down what you hear." There really is no "doing" to Godwriting. It is a non-doing. It does itself. We are party to it. We are there, we receive, and we are definitely not the brains of it. Probably Godtypist would be a more accurate title than Godwriter.
And so, amid the hammering and all, a Heavenletter was written down. I don't have the title and number of the Heavenletter yet, but this is how it begins:
Good morning, beloveds. I am in your presence, and I am at your service. Whose service would I be at if not yours?
When this Heavenletter comes out in about six or seven weeks, want to bet a million dollars there isn't any way you can tell it was written in noise rather than quiet?
Comments
This great post reminds me of a quote from Mother Teresa: "There are some people who, in order not to pray, use as an excuse the fact that life is so hectic that it prevents them from praying. This cannot be. Prayer does not demand that we interrupt our work, but that we continue working as if it were a prayer."
Well, DrDeb, this is very interesting what you wrote! Mother Teresa has said so many wonderful things. She even said something like this: "God is the Writer. I am just his little pencil." I love that.
With all respect, I like the word blessing more than prayer.
Was it always like that? Is there any kind of "tuning in"?
Yes, One, there is a tuning in, but it is so slight, just like turning the dial on the radio to adjust a station. The tuning in is almost imperceptible, it is so little.
Does one have to practice Godwriting regularly to get better at it? Is there such a thing as "better at it"?
One of the many things I enjoy about Godwriting is that there is no pressure to Godwrite. There is no routine. You always said, write only when you feel to. I find that very liberating and unusual, yet it feels just right.
It's almost like one has to see the value in the practice and make the choice to practice.
Is Godwriting a choice for you? Is it a practice for you?
I use the same approach with yoga asana practice and meditation. Yet I noticed that I only receive the fruit of the practice when I practice! There is something about choice here. Initially I chose to meditate. Now I find the that the choice has less and less to do with it, like how a tree "chooses" to bear fruit and give shade. Those two qualities, fruit bearing and shade giving, are part of the trees nature. What I feel is that meditation becomes part of my nature.
I think there is something that has to make a choice and as that something gets less, so too does the choice. That "something" could be called awareness. When the awareness is greater, there is less to choose and more to be.
Does one have to go through a process to Godwrite?
Like should I make a decision to put pen to paper and listen? I think the nature of my awareness resonates with some kind of decision to practice. By making that decision to Godwrite I am empowered to shift things in my life to make space for Godwriting. Maybe that would be the process for me before Godwriting becomes a part of my nature.
I remember you saying that you arise in the morning on an impulse. The words flow regardless of where you are, what your state is, or the environment. Was it always like that?
One, I can't wait to talk about what you are bringing up here. Tomorrow's blog entry will be all about your questions. Thank you for them.