The Subtle Subconcsious And The Writer’s Imagination

 

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about reincarnation.  She had some interesting things to say about karma and destiny.   After we spoke, her thoughts on the matter remained with me for a few days.  I have my own feelings about this but I won’t bore you with details.  Suffice to say,  we have our own truth and our individual way of getting there.  Although this topic can seem enigmatic and out there,  it does have a great deal to do with the work of a writers, artists and musicians.  We rely on those fleeting intangibles, those rare moments of eternity we call inspiration.  We glimpse it and occasionally linger there for a few pages at a time, mesmerized by the vastness of it all.    Some people call the road to this vault of creativity the  subconscious.  Some writers I know swear they have written entire stories on this subconscious auto pilot.  Some call it God, some call it the collective unconscious.  I sort of understand this, having written stories completely culled from dreams but it was during a rehash of my book that I had a revelatory experience.  After rereading the fifth and sixth chapters, I was flabberghasted to discover that at least two settings in the book are precise replicas of places I’ve lived!  When I was writing the words  I didn’t see it.  Hardly the stuff of the enigmatic presence of the great mystery in art.  I felt I was creating a new world, but in fact I was clearly picking weeds from my own back yard!     After digesting this revelation, I began to wonder about those people, and places in our stories we don’t recognize.  I certain we all have several examples we simply can’t explain.  

 This brings me directly back to the reincarnation chat with my friend.  Is it possible that some of our stories have a deeper theme than it would appear?  Is it possible we have collected every single creative event, not from some primary source in the upper regions of the cosmos,  but from lives we have lived before?  If that’s true, then what exactly is creativity?  Is it really the act of bringing something into existence that is new and original or is it merely our souls selecting material from other times?   If this is true, it certainly does explain a great deal.   It also raises more questions about the role creative people play in the advancement of humanity.

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

5 thoughts on “The Subtle Subconcsious And The Writer’s Imagination”

  1. Hi Uninvoked,

    I certainly will touch on this again and I’ll visit your blog as well. Thanks for visiting. 🙂

  2. Hey Debbie, The more I live, the more I know I don’t really know what the hell is going on in this world. Your experience sounds like an altered state. Creative activity must be some form of meditation making that possible.

    Val behaving is an oxymoron. Occasionally I have been known to do the right thing in the wrong way. 😉 For the record, I’m glad you don’t behave yourself either!

  3. …That’s unfair. I’d really like to hear your thoughts, and I’d like you to go into more detail. If you ever make another post about this, please let me know so I can come and read.

  4. Also, I’ll be following you from now on so you better behave yourself. Feel free to do the same (however, I definitely won’t be behaving myself!).

  5. Val, Glad I found you through Amy’s blog. Love this post. Reincarnation is a fascinating topic. As is the creative process. I was singing on stage once, and I have no idea how I got from the physical place where I began the song to where I ended up. It was as if I left my body – it was really a trip. I think this happens with writing as well. We writers sit down to write, and the next thing we know, we’ve got one or two new chapters written that we have no real idea where they “came from.” I love the mystery of the creative process. I bow to it, honor it, love it and try my damndest NOT to understand it.

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