Tag: energy

Coupling

It’s been three joyous writing (and editing) days. Having one such day always energizes and intoxicates me. Returning to life’s normal routines and patterns afterward is deflating.

But then, coupling three days together feeds the highs, giving me a sensation of feeling invincible and omnipotent. It’s empowering but frightening because it must be kept in context for what it is.

That energy can’t help but spill over into other things. It stirs something that’s deeper and more primal in me. The short and long of it is that I’m accomplishing, creating something tangible from my mind’s energy and my physical exertion, and that is rewarding. I set a goal, and I’m working toward accomplishing that goal. When successful progress and its accompanying energy continues over three days, this sense parlays into a belief that I can do anything, because, hey, look how good the writing and editing is progressing. Woo-hoo.

Common sense helps ground me. Writing (and editing) and the rest of life aren’t the same. Thinking of this reminds me of some hotel chain’s commercials. They went along the lines of, “Let me operate.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“No, but I got a great night of rest.”

It’s all about how you feel, and the self-confidence that it stirs. I think the chain was Holiday Inn Express.

Meanwhile, however, some of my mind views all this with deep suspicion. “Maybe you’re fooling yourself,” at least one advisor whispers. “You’re probably not that good.”

It’s an amusing proposition because it demands that I hold two contrary ideas in mind, that I am that good, and that I’m not that good. Parts of my writing is probably amazing, and parts are probably crap. This is a draft, and I’m the writer, and I wrote it for me, so if I enjoy it as a reader, mission accomplished. It’s natural that others will dislike it, not get it, enjoy it or not, decide that it’s, “Okay,” (shudder), or love it. None of that’s within my control except that I wrote it for me, and I enjoy it.

Am I conning myself? You bet! But I think I’m also being realistic. I know, too, that I’ll probably encounter days when I feel sick about reading what I wrote because it needs a lot of work.

Accepting that I must stop now is a reluctant choice. I love the immersion of writing and editing my novels. I know myself, though, and my writing process, and its capricious nature. I know that going out on a high helps sustain progress because I feed off expectations created by past success.  It at least makes it easier to get to the document the next day.

So, sadly, but joyously, time to stop writing editing like crazy, one more time.

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The Lesson

His backpack seems light. Walking along, he thinks, what did he forget? In a flash, he concludes, OMG, I forgot the power brick. As he walks, he considers options and decides, just stay off the net, edit, and work as long as possible before the power is gone.

It’s a downer because he was looking forward to the work session. Now it was all changed.

But unpacking, everything is there. He’d forgotten nothing. It would be business as usual.

Sipping his coffee, he thinks, I put all that energy into worrying about a possibility that didn’t come to be, a possibility based on a false perception.

There must be a lesson there, he decides, and then goes to work.

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A Scavenger Dream

I’d just begun new employment. I wasn’t the age I now am, but I was middle-aged and experienced in office environments.

The office building was one of those old San Mateo buildings used by start-ups. It was dark and cramped inside. I don’t know what the company was doing or what my position was.  Those things were being explained but a haze covers that part of the dream. Then my boss, a director, said, “Here comes the CEO.” All present, except for me, started gravitating around the CEO and his words.

Beginning to sort the situation, I discovered a huge collection of parts. Looking at them, I realized it was a stockroom of one part. I don’t know what the part was. Taking one apart, I found batteries inside. Then I found and read paperwork, and spoke to others. The gist of what I understood about the company was that it was struggling and going through a re-organization. Resources were scarce. Investigating, I learned that the parts were old stock. They’d set it aside to get rid of it. I decided I’d remove the batteries, test them to see if they worked, or recycle them. Then I go find something to do with the parts.

The CEO came along while I was in the middle of doing this. “What are you doing?” he asked. I explained my plan.

My initiative impressed him. “This is the kind of thing we need to be doing until we get on our feet,” he told the others in a little speech.

I shrugged all of that off and kept going about my business. In another room, I discovered food being thrown away. I couldn’t understand that at all. Like the parts and batteries, I decided that wasn’t appropriate, so I began going through the food, checking the dates and packaging, and organizing it by its food group. Others entered while I was doing that. Many asked, “What are you doing?”

I explained myself each time. People most often replied, “That’s too much work.”

I didn’t argue with them or explain myself. I was settling in and had the time. It was a unique time and exercise; once it was done, it wouldn’t be needed to be done again.

I knew that, so I kept at it. As I worked, the food, battery and parts disappeared, as though I was seeing it through a time-lapsed recording. The office became brighter.

In the end, I paused. I was holding an armful of food containers. Looking around, I thought, I’m scavenging energy for re-use.

Understanding that, I went on, and the dream ended.

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Nesting Dreams

I dreamed my mother was sitting at a table and telling me of her dream, in which I was telling her of my dream, in which I dreamed she was saying, “Michael is gathering his energy and purging his disciplines.”

Don’t know what it means, but I dreamed it before. I recall thinking, what an unusual nesting dream. What are the Russian dolls called? Matryoshka dolls?

That stream triggered a search of old dreams, and there it was, December 7, 2016. I didn’t share the bit about Mom in the post, but posting about other dreams (which used the title “Matryoshka Dreams”) enabled me to do a search of my dream entries, where I found it.

I dreamed Mom and I were sitting at a table. She was telling me about her dream, which was a dream about me telling her about my dream. In my dream, she said, I told her, “Michael is gathering his energy and purging his disciplines.”

I don’t know what she/I meant about ‘purging my disciplines’. That doesn’t make sense to me.

I don’t know what Mom was wearing in that first dream, but in this dream, she wore a light blue shirt and was thirty years younger. She was the only person seen or heard in the dream, but I knew she was talking to me.

After I meditated about the dream’s meaning while traveling, I decided this was about thinking deeper and drawing deeper energy. It’s an intuitive leap. I can’t explain the intuition, except that it’s because the dream is about layers, and about both male and female energy, and mother and son energy. Now, writing that, I think, it’s also about balancing deep thinking and drawing deeper energy. Purging disciplines is about re-shaping paradigms vis–à–vis effort and expectations.

Or maybe I’m just tired.

 

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Flashes

You ever been doing something innocuous, like cleaning the cat box (and thinking, I would be rich if cat crap was worth anything) when writing flashes strike?

Happened to me today. Suddenly, scenes fill me. Gaps are bridged, with the story advancing on multiple fronts, like a creative offensive has been launched in my head.

Everything else is squeezed out for time to make room for dialogue, settings, and action scenes. It’s a struggle to keep up, like I’m in the center of several movies playing simultaneously. An impetus to rush off to write seizes me.

But the creative explosion wasn’t limited to writing and the current WIP. Writing is the largest beneficiary. While scenes for the current work in progress proliferate, so do a multitude of new ideas for other concepts in play, and fresh ideas. Catfinitions, those silly ideas involving cats and weak word play, pour in. Ideas for organizing and cleaning spring up like weeds after a rain. My overall energy levels surge. I feel powerful, confident, excited, and optimistic.

Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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Baby Steps

If she could just make it through this meeting, she could make it through the morning. Then she’d just need to make it through the afternoon and the drive home. Then, she just had to make it through the party tonight, and the family dinner tomorrow, and the celebrations the day after that. If she could just make it through all those things, she could make it to the end of the week, and get some time for herself.

But first, she had to make it through this meeting.

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Another Frontier

I was thinking about my body, and your body, this morning, and the myriad energies that our bodies generate, use, store, emit, and absorb.

I think our current approach to our bodies’ energy is oversimplified and misunderstood. As I contemplated myself and my spectrums of behavior and being, I listed the kinds of energies manifesting and flourishing in us as humans:

  • Physical
  • Emotional
  • Biological
  • Intellectual
  • Sleep
  • Life
  • Time
  • Creative
  • Psychic
  • Dream
  • Cellular

That’s a small beginning.

Most people probably treat these energies the same. They probably dismiss that all these energies, and more energies, co-exist in us, coming together as energy flows to help us function. Privately, though, many people know and understand on some level that these energies are different and unique.

People know when their energies are off. They’ve privately experienced the differences. They’ll tell you, “My physical energy is low, today.” Substitute emotional or intellectual energy for physical energy. Or they’ll paraphrase, and mention, “I can’t think straight, today.”

I think someday, we’ll have a much better understanding of these energy types, and their sources, and interactions. Meanwhile, we’ll make-do, struggling to cope with your physical energy, when it’s actually your sleep energy that’s mis-aligned.

Of course, I would think these, because I think life and reality is a series of overlays. As we learn and evolve, layers are peeled away, but we’ve barely begun to understand.

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Game Dreams

So many dreams last night. One involved me driving a silver Dodge Charger. It’s the third time that I can recall driving a silver Dodge Charger in my dreams.

In this dream, I was driving it in a race. The race wasn’t on asphalt, but was on a white plastic track. Each race was only one lap. I was having fun, in a good mood, and doing excellent, placing at or near the top. I wasn’t at all concerned with the results. The race was always run with only two cars on the track. I didn’t know anyone else competing. I looked forward to the finish. I was younger, with thick brown hair, and much better looking than I actually am.

Oddly, though, another race was proceeding in parallel. I was informed that during my race. The other race in parallel involved animals. No animals were being harmed, but I took it that some animals were being raced. I was assured that I wasn’t involved, and it didn’t concern me. I didn’t feel concerned. The races between the animals and my series alternated. I didn’t see any of the animal races, though.

Then, in a shift, I dreamed about Chakras. I don’t know much about them. In the dream, they were like stations, and I was going about cleaning and re-charging them. It was all very matter-of-fact. The Chakras were like red cylinders mounted in a row on white pavement. Green grass surrounded the pavement under a cloudy but blue sky. A pleasant warm breeze accompanied my activity. The Chakras were labeled. I read the labels and learned they were about energy. One Chakra, for example, was about my creative energy. Another was labeled “Physical Energy.” I went to each Chakra to check their progress, humming as I did. When checking them, I’d check to see if a black hose was there, and confirm it was connected to the Chakra. I don’t have any idea what the other end was connected to.

Neither of those dreams ended with anything conclusive. They were just done.

 

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Currents

Lindsey, the smiling tech presenting my findings, had a beautiful round face, gorgeous blueberry eyes, and curly dark black hair that highlighted her dark skin. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered, nodding. Ready? Fuck, yes.

“Are you excited?”

“I am so excited. You wouldn’t believe it. I’ve been waiting for this day for almost three years.”

True story. I’d heard about the currents on the same day that Melli broke up with me, June thirtieth. I’d seen that coming but had worked hard to convince myself I was wrong. Then she said all those things that burned down my soul. I didn’t know who the hell I was when she was done. Trashing myself with Miller’s finest and getting arrested for public urination was not very helpful. It was, literally, and I mean this in the truest sense, literally the next day after being fired that I saw the ad for currents and began planning to have my currents charted. It gave me a goal, man. It probably saved my life. I started pricing procedures, got a job and started saving my money.

Lindsey issued a blinding smile. “I can tell.” She turned toward a large screen. On it was my name and photo. My pulse accelerated. Despite the freezing a/c, sweat trickled down my back.

“Well,” Lindsey said, “here’s what everyone wants to know right away, so we’ll tell you right off, that you have sixteen currents affecting you.”

Sixteen. I held my breath, remembering from my reading, most people have nine. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. That places you in the top two percentile.”

I was nodding, listening, watching the screen and reading it as the information she shared came up, and thinking. Sixteen currents explained my mood swings. I was lucky to be functional. A schematic of my body emerged. The sixteen currents appeared and were named.

“Four are major currents,” she said.

My respect for myself went up when I heard four. They were highlighted in bright red on my schematic. One was for Odin. Fat and red, his current flowed between my heard and brain. Wow, shot through me, wow. Almost as fat, but longer, Ra connected my heart and my feet, explaining why I loved the sun, and walking. Paired with Ra and flowing in parallel was a thin green line that represented Amun.

The minor currents, in blue, included America, Jesus Christ, and Rock. They circulated as a trio through my solar plexus, clear explanation for my indifference about those three realms. Money and Greed were both small currents in my chest. Neither touched my heart. That made me smile. Not being ambitious was one of the things that Melli speared me with as though it was a terrible attribute. My currents and their placing demonstrated exactly why I didn’t care about getting ahead as she wanted me to do. “With your brains and talents,” she’d shouted, “you can be so fucking rich, if you only cared.” Christ, I hear and see her shouting that at me almost every fucking night.

The screen was changing. Lindsey had been speaking, but stopped. I felt her watching me. “Sorry,” I said. “I stopped listening.”

“That’s all right, that’s okay. Most people do. This is about your soul and existence. It’s natural for you to get distracted by what you see. Take your time.” She brought the last screen back up, with all my currents. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” That’s all I could say.

“When I saw your currents, I was blown away,” Lindsey said. “You have the most currents of anyone I’ve ever done.”

“How many currents do you have?”

“Oh, mine is boring.” She sighed. “Just two major currents, God and Sports, nine currents, total. I am so average, but it explained why I was always so good at every sport I ever tried.”

Nodding, I’d quit listening again. I wanted to start looking more in-depth at all of my currents. These were the key to understanding myself. I had Sports lowing in me as a moderate current. Odin, Odin lowed through me. Ra.

Those were two of the majors. I hunted the information for the other two red currents. My heart almost dropped out of my body when I saw the first.

“Hitler?” I asked, weak and sick. I wanted to throw up “Hitler is one of my major currents?”

Looking sorrowful, Lindsey replied, “I’m afraid so. It’s a current we’re seeing more of, more frequently.” She sounded so apologetic.

Odin, Ra and Hitler. The Hitler current started in my right hand and went up my arm to my heart. “You’re right-handed, aren’t you?” Lindsey asked.

I nodded.

“So, even though it’s not a large major current, Hitler’s current will dominate many of your actions because of where he’s located.”

Yes, I’d been reading about the Hitler current. I’d been startled that Hitler had been able to generate enough energy to create a lasting current through history.

What was the fourth current, then? Fat and red, it was the longest, going from my brain to my solar plexus. It apparently flowed through my heart, as well. “What’s my fourth major current?”

Looking happy, Lindsey said, “That’s the most interesting one. You want to see?” She laughed, already moving the mouse as I said, “Hell, yeah.”

“I thought you would,” she replied. “Your fourth major current is one that includes the nine muses. They’re not all equal, but they’re all apparently there, but flowing together as one major current.”

“What’s that mean?”

Laughing, Lindsey said, “It means you love art, literature, music and knowledge, and you’re probably impressively good at any of them, when you try.”

I’d never read about a current like that. Usually people had a few of the muses running as one current or another.

Lindsey was saying almost the same thing. “I was so jealous when I saw that. I have Terpsichore flowing in me as a strong minor current, so I’m a pretty good dancer, but so do most black women in America.”

“Yes, but I have that Hitler current.” Saying those words sickened me anew. Of all the currents to have….

Lindsey leaned forward in her chair. “You know, though, we’ve noticed that the Hitler current seems localized by regions.”

I grew still with the implications of her words.

“If you move away from its zones, it’ll diminish.”

“Really? That can happen?”

She nodded.

“But how do I know where to move?”

Smiling, Lindsey slipped a piece a brochure toward me. “We have another program that tells where the currents are strongest and weakest, and how where you live can affect your currents.”

I scanned the page, looking for a price. I didn’t see one. “How much is it?”

Lindsey’s apologetic expression re-appeared. “It’s very expensive. Six thousand dollars.”

I gasped. “Wow.” Six grand. I’d already spent nine to learn my currents, living almost like a monk to do it.

“Well,” I said. “Well.”

She wrapped up the session by presenting me with a booklet and DVD of me and my currents. “The DVD is tailored for your findings, and it goes into a lot of detail about how the currents interact and affect you. It’s really worth going through.” Then she told me about the website, and how to log onto it. “Your package includes a year of updates about your currents, so you can see how they change.”

I nodded, but I was already out of there in my mind. I could save money and try to find a place where the Hitler current was weaker. Whatever. I had a new goal, to minimize that damn Hitler current.

I’d worry about the details later. I wasn’t worried; the Muses would help.

That was amazing to know.

***

With thanks to Neil Gaiman.

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