This morning I woke at 4:18 AM according to my trusty alarm clock. I keep for the purpose of knowing whether to get up or see if my wakeful spate in the dead of night will pass. Usually it says 2:38 or 2:22. This morning it was close enough to my usual getting up time that I simply lay back and relaxed for a few minutes.
Then thoughts rushed in waves through my head. I was writing, but I had no paper in front of me, no keyboard to transcribe the plot. The writing was beautiful and it came in complete thoughts with no need to backspace. The words came unbidden and melded into paragraphs and pages of perfect script.
At others times I have gotten up, eager to get to my computer to try to capture these momentary glimpses of creativity. The words came naturally, the phrasing was complete, and the ideas were exact, what I had been looking for as a beginning to this or a middle of that or an ending to the other. Actually it was an entire chapter complete in full.
This morning, instead of getting up and trying to capture it, I let go, let it flow past me, allowed it continue until it had run its course and exhausted its run. And then I lay there for a time and thought about what had occurred.
Always before I have rushed to the computer, hit the space bar to wake up the beast, and opened either a piece I have been working on or– worse– a blank page where I need to write the first thought. Invariably nothing springs forth. The thoughts are interrupted and the page remains blank. I stumble and fumble a few lines onto the page, which end up with no resemblance to the free flowing word thoughts in my mind just moments before.
Now I know that it must occur, that getting it down on paper, but I don’t think it is wise of me to interrupt the other process any more. They are separate entities and must be allowed to function apart, each with its own intrinsic value. I don’t know why it has taken me this long to figure this out. It’s probably in every writing book out there. The Muse, I think they call it.
So I lay there and allowed the thoughts free rein until they were finished. When I did get up to make my morning tea and set about the day, I felt a sense of calm as though all those words and thoughts were filtering down to form a base from which other thoughts and words would later attach themselves; a reef of skeletal ideas from which to grow a richly varied and organic text.
Now I just need to write what I remember with the monkey brain part of me.