Creative Source
One of the questions that arises from meditation is the one of who you are. Such a question may sound ridiculous but if you think on it, you realize how much of your world bases itself on assumptions.
Feelings, ideas, and sensations arise throughout the day and even as you sleep. Though they are your ideas and feelings, they seem foreign. They occur to someone, but that someone doesn’t exactly seem to be you. A voice inside of you (somewhere) that tells you about the world you are experiencing.
Meditation attempts to quiet that continuous parley of words in your head. Is that voice even you?
If you have been sitting for a while, your joints will start complaining. Your ankle, seemingly “over there”, feels uncomfortable. The discomfort does not seem part of your mind. If you let the discomfort be, just observe its nature without worry or concern, it eventually fades away. Likewise if you stop listening for the clock ticking, it too will disappear. Events pass. Gradients of attention affect us though we think of our lives as serial.
Meditation consists of limiting your field of attention, nothing more complex than that. You do so by focusing on your breath, an image before you or in your mind, a word or mantra. Think of the world as a mandala, with all those bordering elements surrounding a fine point, the center. Focus on that center. That is the essence of meditation.
Doing so proves calming. It gives the hamster a chance to stop spinning its cage. Additionally, the brain develops new pathways and connections. This results in a calmer, more thoughtful grasp of situations.
What does this mean for the creative person? It means finding a pathway to the creative source.
As beginners in whatever creative endeavor, we make broad, wild attempts to find the creative source. Most children need no cues to sing or dance or write or sing—they just let it rip—but as we age, we often lose sight of that creative source.
Some look for ways to reclaim the pathway. Inspiration sometimes helps us. Something tugs us into trying something. The work—poem, painting, song, or whatever—leaps easily into existence. It feels so easy, guided by that kindly energy. One tries to replicate that process but it is no process. It was a serendipitous moment. One does not schedule serendipity.
One does study one’s craft. One develops technique and learns from the work of others. This enlarges the artistic vocabulary and improves your craft. At a certain point, though, you must contend with the mentoring influence. Perhaps Picasso’s work helped free you with its scope and energy. Picasso’s paintings are all finished, however. What are you going to do? You are going to find your creative source.
You don’t meditate to become more creative, you meditate to be more receptive. Receptive to the world, compassionate towards others, open to the subconscious.