A stairway to a train to the top: My destiny

stairway to the top (image: clint crawford https://instagram.com/mysticlightphotography/)

[Image source: Stairway to the top]

There is a stairway. I climbed it last night. In my dream. I knew these stairs led to the train to the top. I got to these stairs by a train moving effortlessly on a waterway. I wanted to call someone to explain how easy it was to travel across water.

Upon my insistence, there, up on this platform in the sky, enclosed within a fence with others who appeared to be clones of each other, clones of my aspiration, I was to wait. I knew I would wait, squatting down, arms wrapped around me for the train. 

Today, upon waking, I knew I needed a new view and new inspiration. Tired of staring at the same wall—although beautiful, offset by candles perfectly set and my favorite artwork—I am now lost. I am looking out the window more so than not to find my shapes that speak. 

But either my symbols of creativity are all asleep or I have exhausted them. My extraordinary words sit in a silent place waiting for me to find them. I moved my office around to stir up the dust, not only in my living room—along with a few new scratches on the wood floor—but to stir up whatever it is inside me that's stagnant.

to be cleansed & renewed

Now, in my new office, with a new view I know that if we were there then, we wouldn't be here now in this moment; this is my favorite moment. 

All I can think of is that I want to walk in the rain and not even know it's raining.

 © 2014 R.E.L. Copywriting

Today I will write a manifesto: Writing my future with full clarity

image: Kirsten Honeyman pacifichorticulture.comI put it in my calender that today I will write a manifesto. I thought about this in yoga this morning. I started writing in my mind. Then—after coming home—I decided to go back to a second yoga class in a row in order to get psyched; it was Bikram yoga no less. It was a physical yoga manifesto. Now, back at home, I am writing this blog instead. I will probably do the dishes next.

My cat knows something is up. He has positioned himself in a new spot today by the heat vent near my desk. He is watching me. Cats are mind readers. They know things. He is watching me as if he sees the future floating above my head.

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Don't pass by me: Who goes slowly goes healthy

wishes that come trueThere is a fine balance between shyness and true expression. As if in a bit of a conundrum, I go back and forth between befriending stillness and the gems inside me that open only when the darkness underneath is stirred to view what's lurking beneath.

The words of a song remind me,

I swear that I can feel you creeping underneath my skin. It feels like heaven to me sometimes.

There is a quality of light within the dark—a yin/yang. 

I can feel a side of me inside reaching out for expression, asking gently to not vaporize the energy of the expression into an emptiness. Don't pass me by, it asks. There is much to be learned in the dark that I so easily hide within the armor I've built like a child building a sand castle.

Sand is a good metaphor for this armor. It is made of rock, symbolizing strength. After many years of weather it can harden to an impenetrable substance, but if air continually moves through the tiny spaces between each grain, the wall can easily be knocked down. A simple symbolic hand can do the trick with one violent strike. Alternatively, I could douse it with my essence in a waterfall, or a slow drip to eat away at it slowly.

A soothing Italian proverb leads the way in my life now: 

Chi va piano va sano va lontano. (Who goes slowly, goes healthy and far.)

Take time with the precious gems that have been in the dark for a long time. Once they see the light, they do not acclimate immediately. They need time to adjust and evolve into their new form, with light shone upon them.

They can become like a dream that I’ve always imagined but could never reach. Not until now at least.

© 2014 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part sixteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part sixteen

be you, creative

Continuing on from are you a memory?, part fifteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, a driving force building words of sentences of stories of dreams. 

...between the letters

In between the letters is a place. To imagine what occurs—as a word is formed, as a choice is made—is to be a step closer to being in that space.

Sentences are made of more than words. Ideas, described. Pauses, illuminated.

…

While the choice is being made, while the thought is formed (as a bubble in the mind, speaking eloquently or as a cartoon), there is a decision. The decision makes its mind up itself.

Words are not taught, nor is creativity. The space to find the words needs to be opened, calmly with confidence.

They ask,

Do you know how? To be you? Then why don't you do it?

Be you, creative.

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part two

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part two.

painting by Amanda G. Wright Continuing on from a faucet of words, part one of the Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, the writer is a person whose faucet of words continue to flow.

Write with me
... as if I'm writing you
... as if I hear only your voice.

...when reader meets writer

When reader meets writer, nuances of meaning become interspersed as a vision is painted in one mind, relayed by a dream in the other mind, yet transposed. The writer knows how to allude to a holographic world—once secret, now exposed.

Writing involves a sinking into silence—that is loud enough to hear inklings of thoughts. Whether they be thoughts within you or thoughts of another person telling a story, listening is an art. As whispers emanate words, it’s a skill to listen to the message of the one for whom the words are written.

For, listening goes beyond the ears. It involves the intellect as it mixes with imagination. Capturing the imaginative style with coherent words on a paper that involve original ideas is writing.

Image by Amanda G. Wright

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2012 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part one

 Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part one

poetic writing for creative ad copy

...a faucet of words

The writer is a person whose faucet of words continues to flow. There is no on/off switch. But, the writer—an author of freelance ways of the mind—can also take a nap. A good nap. And in that slumber, words dancing (or not), there is an inflection that breathes through inactivity that produces the artistic work.

The word is a design conjured up by the intellect, and is part of a character of the life an author instills.  

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2012 R.E.L. Copywriting

Poetry for the medical world

Some poetry I wrote for various web site pages of an aesthetic surgery and skin rejuvenation client of mine.

you know that you

participate

in what you are creating
~ r.e.l. 2012

recognized,

your own voice freed

from criticism,

your face lit up
~ r.e.l. 2012

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Am I moving toward or moving away?

What does wholeness look like to me? The words that describe me are summed up here.

In my search for wholeness, I get a cue as to what I avoid in life when I watch what it is I try to withhold from others in my conversations. These are the truths which I hide even from myself, since I clearly lack confidence to orate them. The fear is controlled by my unconscious. These are the inner truths that point to my fear of being who I truly am. 

If I catch myself trying to avoid telling someone the truth about myself, I will see how I hide from life. This is the pointer that shows me my fear of being who I truly am.

I seek to bring myself into wholeness by merging my mind with my beliefs. The two act aside each other naturally. When the dark clouds come, I have to work diligently in meditation to remember the sun is always shining above it—something greater than me.

© 2010 R.E.L. Copywriting