Once fatigue, any anxiety & many combinations of dread begins to recede, we permit this fresh assurance, exhilarated by solid accomplishment, to emerge. Instead of those influences coming from lower vibrational frequencies,a clean stream of inspiration jettisons. The act of writing in this state energizes, then inflates estimation of sacrifice & disciple. We realize we have been successful in creative aspiration. This rising tide lends to thoughts of promise & victory.
Still—is what feels like well-deserved celebration of ability, once inflated into the foreground of awareness, is this rush of ego a potentially unbalancing influence? Once the cup of self-satisfaction has been filled to overflowing, what then?
Love sails me around the house. I walk two steps on the ground & four steps in the air. It is love. It is consolation. ~ Thomas Merton
Elation triumphs: I remain euphoric because there has been an act of creating something from a deep point of engagement. For this once, I got it. The mind has spun & letters have formed in a jettison of poetic language, apt & concise. Disciplined work has managed to reflect in harmony, visions of the mind’s eye.
Some muse has permitted a sacred transference of vassal; I have been entrusted with insight. Pulse quickens, the senses feel as though they are flirting with a full range of potentiality.
{All images by Hannah Hoch}