Thursday, November 24, 2005

To post or not to post?

Well, sending you to my website to read the first 11 pages was perhaps daunting, and who has the time? Many thanks to Jean and Laurieglynn for their very helpful comments! This section, from page 99, is perhaps not polished enough, and probably way too long to post as a blog entry. I'm not sure if I should leave it up or pull it. It's about the vast field of interconnections between us all and the many small miracles that happen continually in our lives. I think this section might be central to the theme of my novella-in-progress, The Move. It's perhaps a more theoretic section, and I think it has, I dunno, perhaps too Buddhist an edge to it (all that talk of no arrogance, although I don't actually say non attachment) that I have to scrub and polish out (it's non demoninational, though may have an underlying Buddhist philosophy, oh, heck, that's where I've learnt the most spiritually), and this section is in the midst of sections that are about happenings, events and that illustrate this way of describing gifts, coincidences, small miracles...


Strange luck, strange turns of events, strange eddies in the currents of time, like strange physics particles cohering in unexpected formations, were occurring in ways incongruent to the laws of cause and effect. The energy of a system wasn’t contained in the rationality of its whole, nor in the logical sum of its parts, not all of it. Perhaps there are pockets of other dimensions in this one, oscillating at even higher frequencies. Something like intersecting fields of frequencies crossing each other at nodal points where the pattern of events could take a different turn. Sometimes the fabric of space and time stretched, buckled, spread, allowed. Places where the light trickled richly and pooled. Where the visions were strongest. Where visions could become realized. Contact points where creative poolings occurred out of which magic arose as if from the mists which swirl over the waters of the deep. If you were in one of those places somehow things spawned. Cornucopias of wishes came true. Effortlessly; if you applied effort, or attempted to arrogate the processes, became arrogant, the entryway shut down, closed, moved elsewhere. These were gifts that only appeared through a process of gifting. It was not a doctrine, or definable by any system, religious, scientific or otherwise.

No-one could claim to own or control this process of interconnections. Patents couldn’t be taken out on it. It’s a network that’s larger than the continuum we think we exist in. It intersects with the space-time continuum of cause and effect. It enables crucial connections to be made.

Whether you call it co-incidence or the guidance of angels, it doesn’t matter.

What you did when a desire and its fulfillment intersected was up to you. What you want will appear, but it might not be what you wanted after all, or perhaps you didn’t recognize it as the fruition of your wishes, or perhaps the lapse between its appearance and your recognition was long enough to lose it. It’s important to be open to possibilities.

That’s where the sudden lightning flash of illumination will appear, as a possibility.

Finding what she was looking for, accidentally, wherever, happened so often she didn’t doubt the existence of a set of connections between us all that appear beyond the accepted communication channels. Finding what you were looking for, what you wished for, was no stranger than seeing yourself in a mirror, after all. You think you exist, and then you see yourself and it’s always a little strange and somehow magical that you are here at all.

As she sipped her hot, aromatic Earl Grey tea, its sweetness on her tongue, she continued to follow her train of thought. She wondered if trying to map this process, even poetically, would scare it away. Like psychic phenomenon, it was resistant to testing. Wish fulfillment was perhaps akin to hitting the jackpot, it would happen, but no-one could predict when or how much or who would be the winner. Only, we were all winners all the time, it was just a matter or recognizing that what you were asking for is being given to you.

For the co-ordinates of this larger system of connections to key in to your mental arena, your flux of thoughts and emotions, there has to be a real need. It doesn’t happen on a whim. It doesn’t happen if you don’t really need it. If you’re fine without what you think you want, then you won’t find anything. If you’re frustrated and finding things difficult and such and such a thing will help, then you will find it. When you’ve forgotten about it. Like magic. That’s the way it happens.

It happens and you can’t make it happen, but you cause it to happen, and when it does it seems like a small miracle.

The book of life is a book of miracles.

It is not about the suspension or violation of the laws of nature. It is about an added bonus to the stability of the world. Something that brings what is desired without shaking the foundations of your life. Parachuted in. Added to. Offered. Gifted. In the immediacy of the moment. As is. Without artifice, exploitation, ulterior motive, in the purity of the present.

It cannot be reduced to the normal processes of communication, or of the market of goods that flow back and forth. But it is a give and take. A call and a response. An offering of gifts to each other.

You will find what you are looking for if you stop looking for it; but first you have to want it, deeply.

It’s not that the energy is freed once you stop wanting, stop thinking about it, stop looking, though that is one way to teach yourself to let go. It’s like desire reaches a fevered pitch and spills over into a silence so rich it spawns whatever was being sought until it is shining before you. It’s a process of love. When you find what you are looking for, you feel profoundly loved.

The small miracles are to remind you that you are loved.

©2005 Brenda Clews

4 comments:

  1. Anonymous2:02 AM

    Hello Miss Brenda~"The Move" is so intense. I must take a breath! You have put so much soul into this work, this is very, very clear when reading the words. The emotion is not lost on the reader. With tightening, this is publishable writing. I only say tightening because this is what an editor will tell you and even given this, the tightening would only need to be minimal, I think.

    You have an excellent way of broadening the concept of an emotion when you write; connecting it naturally to something deeper: ie: not just "a shell", but the organism beneath; working with the living matter and contemplating the abandonment of matter. This gift of tracing a shadow negative to any particular vision is what makes your writing vibrant and contemplative. It is a unique voice; passionate, gifted, contemplative, intelligent in both an academic sense and in a natural one.

    Respectfully and in Blessing~lg

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  2. Laurieglynn, thank you so much for your close reading of what I have posted of The Move. It's a hard piece of writing since it interweaves life and fiction in ways that almost scare me. In it I am talking about what I usually hide (under shells, exoskeletons, deflections). Everything in it seems a perception of a life lived and prophetic of the future. It's the strangest place to be in, and the strangest form of writing I've ever done. Thank you so much for your support. It means much to me, my dear friend...

    blessings, Brenda xo

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  3. I just read the first part of your novel, Brenda, and liked it a lot. For a first draft, there's a lot in it that is strong, I think. The image that locked around my mind and lingered is of the woman sitting by the lake, invoking the protection and direction of the tree - I think because the strength of the emotion and poetry is here anchored in very specific physical description, which I always need in a novel. The locating of the action in Vancouver and the description of walking through the city centre worked well for me in the same way - laying out the branches or bones behind the rich swirlings of emotion and memory. The balance of these elements is satisfying, I think, at the same drawing me into emotional identification, filling my visual imagination with vivid scenes and pleasing my senses with word-play. Mmm. I do hope you are going to share the rest, having whetted our appetites...

    And, wow, I see you have passed 45,000 words already - one gift of the time on your hands in your present situation, which may be small compensation right now, but perhaps a greater one in due course?

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  4. Dear Jean, thank you for the poetry you have written on how necessary the "bones" are, how necessary placement in time and space are for the meaning of the writing to unfold... it is a fine balance, moving between events and metaphoric and symbolic images, and certainly a challenge! I'm glad the introduction works, which I have edited, but now for the rest of it.... maybe by the by I can begin posting the rest as I get it into manageable form. Again, thank you- from a writer like you, feedback is indeed invaluable and much appreciated. xo

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A Pulsing Imagination - Ray Clews' Paintings

A video of some of my late brother Ray's paintings and poems I wrote for them. Direct link: https://youtu.be/V8iZyORoU9E ___