Call it the Universe. Call it the Ether or the Energy. Call it a Higher Power. When I open a door to it in my mind and in my spirit, sometimes amazing things flow in to my life.
I sit on the couch cross-legged with my computer in my lap while my husband sits across from me entranced in an episode of House. I sigh loudly. I tap on the keys. More drama emanates from the TV. I sigh loudly again. My husband looks over at me questioningly.
“I can’t figure out what to write!” I say. We both know he can’t help me with this. I sit a while longer staring at the screen and finally shut my laptop. This is getting me nowhere. I need to relax and just let my mind wander. Just let it be.
The next morning I’m daydreaming about nothing in particular, and suddenly an idea pops into my head and I know what I want to write. This has happened before, and it truly is an amazing thing. I have been more focused on writing in the past few months than I have the past few years. It’s like I have tapped into an infinite well of thought and ideas and inspiration just by thinking about it and trusting that it’s there. I feel so much more aware.
Perhaps being open and more mindful of the world allows the energy of the universe to flow through you. Perhaps it even brings you something that you thought was lost forever…
Quite a few years ago, I experienced a series of emotional events while spending a weekend in San Francisco. When I got on the plane to fly back to L.A., I was struck with an overwhelming need to get my experience down on paper. I wrote furiously, the words pouring out of me and into my notebook, not stopping until I reached the very end, my hand tired and cramping. I stirred a curiosity in the man sitting next to me who politely waited until I was finished and then felt compelled to ask me about my writing given my intense focus for the duration of the flight.
When I got home, I transcribed everything I wrote onto my computer and saved it. A couple years later, my laptop crashed and I lost everything on it. It was crushing to know my writings were trapped forever in a place I could not reach, including the story of that weekend in San Francisco. I knew I could not recapture it.
Last week I was looking for something random and unimportant, going through closets and drawers. I opened a drawer and laid eyes on a brown folder I had not seen for quite some time. I opened it, began flipping through its contents, and stopped, in shock at what I saw. Tucked into the folder were the small half-pages on which I’d written about my experience so desperately on that flight home.
I still cannot believe I have it back. I thought it was lost forever. It feels like a gift from the universe. It feels like a sign.
I think this works for things other than writing and creativity. Perhaps if we are open to the energy around us, focus on the good and go with the flow, we will have more inspiring experiences. Or maybe we simply become more mindful and notice more of the coincidences. But I think it’s something bigger than that. Maybe it’s actually nothing. But maybe it’s something.