When my Soul lurks beneath my words 

Often I feel ‘drawn’ to write. To put pen to paper or fingertip to keypad. 

At times I will know and choose my topic carefully. I research and I think it all through logically in my mind. But then there are the magical and mystical occasions when I have no plan at all. When I know that my soul has something to say. When it wants to be heard. When it takes over......

I feel the seductive pull. I need to get something out. The urge is powerful and I covet the release.

The desire to let my fingers tap dance to their own tune.

Thoughts bubble and fizz over in my psyche but I cant quite comprehend their message. I know that they want me to hear them. To make sense of them. To be the translator. But like little white wisps of air they float by with no real form. If I try to hard to grasp them they just evaporate. All I can do is watch them. Feel them. Tune in. An intuitive sense of my soul needing to express itself and teach me something if I allow it.

What is my soul trying to say?

I can sense it but I cant quite reach it. All I know is that I need to open the laptop and let ‘spirit’ speak. To embrace and watch this Waltz beautifully unfold. To be the vessel which allows the words to take over the page. 

I feel like I am holding up a big velvet bag of scrabble letters. There are so many ways the letters could tumble out and arrange themselves to style a hundred different stories, with or without my manipultaion. This time they are desperate to tell their own tale. Vibrancy and life running through them.

I tip the bag upside down and allow the letters to free-fall. No thought or manipulation. Just potential to create.....And as I effortlessly begin to type I can only hope that the transparent wisps that are my vague musings will transition into solid bright forms, which will allow the unravelling process to begin, and for clarity to emerge for both the reader and myself. I place trust in the power of the story organically developing on the screen in front of me.

And then I suddenly I get that ahh-ha moment where it all comes together perfectly.

I understand.

My sigh of blissful contentment is released and I am satisfied that my soul (through writing) has beautifully made sense of the messy, jumbled and unnerving ramblings which were spinning incoherently around in my head. The clouds have parted and I can see the sun.

I give thanks to the strength of my soul knowing that it always lurks beneath.

C xxx