I had just finished putting the finishing touches to an article I was writing. Word choice, tempo, spacing. It all felt good. I glanced over at the clock and it was a little past noon. Noon!! Holy crap! How did it get to be noon? The last time I looked at the clock it was around 8:30. What had happened to the time?
I had been totally immersed in my writing. So much so that I don’t even have a memory of the words being formulated in my brain. They had just flowed onto the paper. More like being channeled from an exterior source. Me just being the conduit.
At that moment, I knew that whatever I had gotten down on paper was going to be good. And when I go back and re-read pieces like this, it feels like I’m reading them for the first time.
I call that frame of mind “being in the zone.”
That place where the task is pure task. It’s taken on a life of its own. Independent from my rational machinations. It’s sort of like highway hypnosis. Where you find yourself arriving at your destination but you have no recall of driving the last 20 miles. Somehow you got there. And you managed not to get in an accident. Autopilot.
Being in the zone is something that can’t be forced. I can’t sit down and consciously tell my mind to get into that space in order to produce. It just seems to happen spontaneously. Especially when I don’t try to make it happen.
Another example might be when we consciously try to remember something. Whatever the event or person or detail it is that has momentarily escaped our grasp, if we actively try to recall it, force it into our consciousness, we can’t. But once we stop that forced effort, or have moved onto somethings else, the detail immediately pops into mind.*
I actually used to enjoy my commute to and from work when I was practicing law. Why? Because I let my mind drift during this time. Tuned out. Disengaged from my work. And it was when I disengaged that my mind worked best. Suddenly that legal theory or a key element of what I was needing to complete some analysis just magically appeared. I used to carry a pen and paper, and then later a voice recorder, so I could be sure and get it down. Because if I kept on drifting, that momentary flash would be gone and difficult to recall, once again.
Just what’s going on here? What is this phenomena of the mind? Or is it a state of being?
I remember, without effort :-), when I was a teenager and I first encountered the works of Carlos Castaneda. Castaneda became pretty famous for writing a series of books about time he had supposedly spent in the Sonoran Desert with a Yaqui Indian sorcerer. Castaneda, an anthropologist, had met this gentleman while he was working on his PH.D. and exploring the cultural uses of hallucinogenic plants. He found himself an apprentice to this mystical realm.
Throughout his writings, Castaneda talks about various ways or techniques to “see” the world as it really is. His books were considered pretty controversial and there is some criticism, that may be valid, as to whether Castaneda just made the whole thing up.
Or, it could be arguable that the Yaqui Indian was used as the face or metaphor for presenting Far Eastern philosophy. Whether you want to call this mysticism, or nagualism, or brujoism or anything else, I think there are still some valuable lessons to be learned from these writings.
One of those concepts was that of “not-doing.” As explained by the sorcerer, “doing” is the way we construct the world. So a rock is a rock because of how we apply our knowledge of a rock to the rock – doing. To really see what a rock is, to see its essence, we must observe it without “doing” or by “not-doing.” This may sound a bit obscure or esoteric. And I think the way Castaneda presented it was designed to keep it as such. To retain a mystical quality.
In another way, this is a form of meditation. Of clearing the mind. Ceasing the internal dialog, which has now been coined “self-talk.” And “stopping the World.” You have to see the rock, or more importantly the whole Universe, without all of the blinders and descriptors that have been programed into our heads. And once we learn to stop the World, everything flows and reveals its true nature.
And it’s not just a manner of observing the Universe, it is a way of acting, without intention, as we navigate the Universe.
It was later in my life that I came upon the Tao Te Ching. And again, arguably, Castaneda may very well have stolen this concept from the Tao. Except that the translation of the Tao better describes it.
In the Tao, the term is “Wei Wu Wei” or “doing not-doing.” Other interpretations are “without action” or “without control” or “without effort” or “action without action” or “effortless doing.” Another is “diminishing will.” And the notion is that non-action, or unwillful action, is the purest form of action because the doer has vanished completely into the deed. “. . . the fuel has been completely transformed into flame.”
If one surrenders to the Tao (the Way) they will align in perfect harmony with Nature, with the way things really are. They will have mastered Nature, not conquered it, by becoming one with it.
One of the underlying concepts here is trust. We must trust the intelligence of the Universe, continually acting effortlessly and without conscious will, knowing it will be the right action. “The game plays the game; the poem writes the poem; we can’t tell the dancer from the dance.”
In my case, the story wrote the story.
And when that happens is when I discover that the words truly resonate with other readers. I, or maybe better said, the Universe by channeling though me, has stuck a universal cord. I’d call that magic 🙂 And I know, because I feel it, that many of you experience this same phenomenon and we share a common bond.
To all my blogging friends out there that don’t always know where the words come from, but we feel them in our hearts, I’ll leave you with some more words from the Tao:
Therefore, the Master
acts without doing anything
and teaches without saying anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn’t possess,
acts but doesn’t expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.
* I’ve read that functional MRIs (magnetic resonance imaging) and PET (positron emission tomography) scanning have confirmed that different parts of our brain light up when we try to force memories to the surface. And they’re not the regions in the brain where we store information. We can’t force memories, they just rise on their own 🙂
Photo: The dragonfly represents the power of light. They inhabit two realms of the Universe, water and air, and the stages of their lives are just as dramatic of a transition as that of the butterfly. From a water-dwelling nymph to airborne dragon.
As light strikes their wings at various times of the sun’s circle, they can refract vast differences in color and hue. So like life, things may never quite be the way they appear, but it is still full of beautiful color and light. The dragonfly as a totem is said to help one see through illusions and provide new vision – a good symbol for the concept of not-doing so that one may see the true essence of the Universe.
I took this shot along a lake in Az. I shot different pictures of these same dragonflies throughout the day, and indeed they all look different. I enhanced the color of the feature pic a bit and faded out the background revealing an incredibly vibrant transformation. And here is another shot – same type of Dragonfly, but different angle in the sun. What a difference. Can we see their true essence?