Dear Pogue,

I wrote to you in the week about the creative process and suggested that inspiration came from outside rather than within. I questioned whether we had lost our way and turned to our own very limited ability to find creative impulse.

So thinking about this and practicing the thought to test its veracity I spent parts of the week trying to remain mindful and actually notice little thoughts, sometimes almost whispers, that enter my head. It was a little like trying to catch butterflies with one of those small children’s fishing nets. But as I sustained periods of mindfulness I began to notice thoughts that came, thoughts out of line with what I was processing in that moment, and then went. It was as if they were visitors passing by.

I felt a certain thrill because I felt justified in what I had written and was constantly watching for the next inspiration. Now, mindfulness takes practice like everything we are set to succeed at, and can be tiring after a while. So I moved in and out of the state. What I did not realise was that the thoughts, as said, were only visitors and when I sat to concentrate on what I thought I’d learnt…they were gone! Some of them had tempted expansion and on initially hearing them I had committed to use them for writing and exploration. But they were gone! I did not own then but had only been a very temporary keeper. Like a book borrowed from a library that has to be returned. Wonderful to have but one has to take the most from it while you have it and then take it back.

So, this week, I will travel with a notebook and have a new discipline to learn. I like the prospect of recording the Universe’s creative impulses. To be able to touch new thoughts and ideas, turn them in my mind attentively and then, like the caught butterfly, open my hands and let it go to continue its journey and preserve its beauty.

Believe me, this world is a beautiful place if you will but allow the Universe to show you and this can take place regardless of your situation. Maybe the greatest adventure is the journey within?

Yours, off to find a notebook,

Wic