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I didn’t know anything about a book called The MoonQuest when its words began to flow through me.
I didn’t know The Voice of the Muse was a book when its words began pouring from me.
All I knew in both instances was that my Muse was calling me and that the only way to answer its call was to write.
As I wrote, the books took care of themselves.
One day’s writing led to the next. One draft led to the next. One book led to the next.
Each day, draft and book drove my pen. My pen, in turn, drove me.
My only job was to release all attachment to form, structure, content and outcome. My only job was to write and let the words go where they chose and create what was theirs to create.
As it turned out, what was theirs to create were books. They could have been short stories, articles, journal entries or exercises. They could have been anything at all.
My job wasn't to try to figure that out. My job was to write, to surrender to the imperative of my Muse -- a wiser soul in all things creative than I could ever pretend to be.
The StarQuest was different. Even before The MoonQuest was finished, I knew its sequel was in me, waiting to emerge. I knew it was a book. I even knew a smidge of its story before I began.
So how did I begin? The same way I begin every piece of writing: by beginning. Whatever you know of your book and its content, you start every piece of writing the same way, with a single word. With a single letter. With a single pen stroke or key stroke. Any word. Any letter. Any pen stroke or tap on the keyboard.
“In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God...”
Your first word also resides with God or your Muse or whatever creative source you acknowledge. So does your second and third and thirtieth and thirty-thousandth.
Whichever word gets you started is the right one. And that right one will inexorably lead you to the next and the next and the next. And the next...if you let it.
Ultimately, all those words will lead you through your book to its ending, an ending that has been waiting for you since the beginning of time. Of course it has, for your book has existed since the beginning of time, waiting patiently for you acknowledge it, open your heart to it and capture its essence in words on a page.
Are you ready to acknowledge it? Then pick up your pen or touch your fingers to the keyboard and free your first word onto the page.
You don’t know what your book is about? If you listen it will tell you. If you surrender, it will guide you. If you let it, it will write itself.
Life can be like that too. When God or our higher self or our intuition or our gut guides us in a particular direction, our responsibility is to surrender -- using our discernment, of course...a discernment that gets sharpened and honed with each experience.
We can no more figure out the bigger life picture with its infinite possibility than we can the bigger creative picture with its. In both cases, the full potential lies so far beyond our imagining that, truly, surrender is the only viable option.
• What can you surrender to today?
• In your writing?
• In your life?
Whatever it is, do it! Surrender, now.
Adapted from The Voice of the Muse: Answering the Call to Write, (c) 2008 Mark David Gerson