I'm not necessarily referring to the kind of creativity which uses me
a masterpiece - although it may be. Neither am I necessarily referring
to the kind of creativity which uses me to write The Great American
Novel - although it might be. It's not even necessarily the
kind of creativity which uses me to
and refurnish my house in extraordinary ways - although it could be.
The inspiration you are ignites the kind of creativity which uses me to
invent the possibility that I create my life, that I'm the source of my
life, that I'm the source of the quality of my life,
indeed that I'm the source of the quality of Life itself.
Ignites, referring to the miraculous way you ignite creativity,
isn't quite analagous to rubbing two sticks together to start a fire.
That's not quite it, even as ingenious as it may be. It's more like
detonates, as in detonating the explosion which brings
sub-critical masses of fissile material together, creating
which releases nuclear fission power beyond imagination.
However, even though now you get my implication, I'll still say the
inspiration you are ignites creativity because it works
better than to say the inspiration you are detonates
Suddenly that which was never deemed possible becomes possible.
Suddenly the resigned mundane, our carefully thought
through resigned mundane, the resigned mundane we've all
wisely determined is the only safe
operating principle in Life, is vanquished, disappears, is
gone ... just ... like ...
It's literally blown away.
Ordinarily when I refer to being blown away I'm referring
to the state of awareness which sets in just after something which
defies comprehension occurs. It's the incredulity
accompanying that which couldn't happen happening. It's
the sudden, shocked sitting bolt upright and awake when
something deemed impossible decisively shows up
larger than life and twice
That's not what's implied here. Here, what's blown away by
your detonated explosion of creativity, what's vanquished is the
resigned mundane. What disappears is the state of muddied awareness
which accompanies the hopelessness, the thwartedness, and the
frustratedness of submitting to tired old beliefs and conclusions about
Life eg that it creeps on and on and on at a brain‑numbingly
petty pace (as
may have said). Here I'm implying blown away quite
What remains in the aftermath of your detonated explosion of
creativity, is a new, wide open realm of infinite possibility. And even
before I get to act freely in this new, wide open realm of infinite
possibility, I'm stopped. I'm standing here stopped, in awe of what
you've wrought. I'm in awe of how you got to be who you are ie how you
created yourself to be who you are so that your mere
speaking can open new worlds, can generate new
universes, can bring forth possibility from the erstwhile
impossible. I'm standing here stopped, amazed at what you've set up.
I'm amazed at how you got to be who you are ie how you created
yourself to be who you are so that my mere
listening can receive new worlds, can open to new
universes, can distinguish possibility from the erstwhile
I'm at a standstill. I'm stationary, unmoving. I'm full. Even in this
new space of pure creativity, nothing's coming forth. Absolutely
nothing. I'm that full. I've forgotten the Japanese
gourmet's injunct to stop when I'm 80% full. I'm totally 100%
full and more.