Rockin’ the Bahkti…
Not sure what it means but it’s the first thing I wanted to write. A woman at the spiritual center I belong to is known for saying that in praise of someone’s creative success. Perhaps I’m feeling some creative success at just having reached the computer to write today.
After Reverend Susan’s talk yesterday, the main thrust of which was about “first things first,” I held onto the phrase “planned neglect.” It’s a process of consciously neglecting everything else but what you say must come first, God, writing, meditating, loving…whatever.
Today I promised myself to give planned neglect a try.
A sweet juicy writing space rose in me this morning. I was like a lover nearing orgasm in my focus to get my fingers to the keyboard when, like an inconsiderate partner, I answered that damn phone. The sweet, juicy, ‘ready-to-write’ lay there waiting for me to carry this through to a satisfying end, and bit by bit, non-writing activity by non-writing activity, the juiciness faded to a remembered commitment to write.
It’s clear, after preparing a crock-pot meal, ordering heat vent filters online, ripping seams from a sewing project, and fielding two, no THREE, long winded phone calls that I am but a mere beginner.
Here I am, writing anyway. Satisfied to be at least holding hands with the juiciness, knowing that I missed a golden moment with this writing thing that just keeps seducing me. I am closer than ever to trusting it, to allowing myself and my life to do the free-fall into it that I think I have unconsciously feared for many a year. I know not where it will take me, for how long, or what it wants (besides “me”), but it won’t leave me alone and I am enchanted by the power of it’s seduction.
Planned neglect. In that talk I mentioned earlier, Rev. Susan quoted a story about a renowned violinist who described how she came to be great. She realized that putting anything before the thing that called her greatness forward was a destructive habit. She decided that the violin was the “first things first” in her life and by giving it priority – every day mind you – it led her to greatness.
This thing that can’t be born without my written consent, that is woven into all my thoughts, it shall have it’s day, not because I am prophesying but, because I am too weak to hold it back. God bless me, here it comes and it’s birth canal is lined with conscious neglect!
Here is a fun ‘afterword’ (if you will): I decided to look up “Rockin the Bhakti” and here’s what I found at http://www.rockinbhaktiyoga.com/:
In Sanskrit, Bhakti means love, not necessarily the love you share with your intimate partner, but devotional love. To live the life of a Bhakta or a Bhakti is to live a life of service to something greater than oneself.
I just adore how the unconscious leaks and burbles up hints about where it’s taking us!
Write Where I Am 