The Landscape of Opening: Entering The Trance of Creativity

I was sucked into the trance of creativity, a trance of my own creation.

(Does that sound like a good excuse for not blogging in a bit? I hope so.)

I’ve been writing. A lot. I’ve been writing about magick and self care and deeply listening to the wisdom of our hearts.

And it’s work too. Writing can be a mysterious and mystical experience, but it is also a game sometimes. A game of beckoning and surrender.

A trance.

Writing Magick & Making the Space Safe

When I’ve led trances for folks, I start with making the space safe, allowing the body and mind to traverse the landscape of possibility, the place of the subconscious where revelations wait. To prepare for writing, I conjure safety. Safety of body, mind, and creativity.

Find a place that feels good to your body. Breathe in the way that feels good. Allow anything that doesn’t need to be there to sink, drop, and fall away.

This begins with finding the right place, the right space where my body can be supported, but relaxed. A place where my wrists are in the right alignment and my tools work as they should. I need to go into my brain and heart. And to make them feel safe, I block out all distractions. I wear headphones. I play calming music. I take deep breaths until my breath steadies into comfort. Even confidence.

I loosen my shoulders. I adjust until I feel the right feeling. I let go of what has come before and expectation about what might happen next. I turn off my phone. I start to travel.

The Trance Journey into the Unwritten Spaces

And perhaps you open up your eye, your witchy eye. The awareness expands until you begin to see what you see and feel what you feel. Maybe it’s a path. Maybe it’s a forest that’s damp after a recent rain. Perhaps you hear the crunch of leaves under your feet. Maybe you feel steady. And even if you don’t, you know that you can find the steadiness of your movement.

I find signposts in my writing. The outline. The fragmented thoughts I had the day before that I (smartly) wrote down in the document. I look at them, examine them. I ask them what they have to show me. What do they have to say? What are the words that will bring the feeling into being? What are the phrases that allow me to fully connect with the invisible reader?

I take steps into words and chapter. I sprint at times and slow at others. I allow my pace to be what it is. There is no rushing here, only revealing.

I arrive at the destination of discovery. I am not always sure what shows up. Sometimes it’s chronological. Sometimes it’s not.

Sometimes the movement of words is a surprise. Sometimes not. Sometimes I know what happens next.

But I’m not afraid when it’s unclear.

I move forward. Sometimes I stop and look around. Sometimes I snack.

I keep moving.

Gratitude & Return from the Opening

Knowing that you can’t stay in this space forever, it is time to return. It is time to turn and travel the path back to where you began. If there are any beings or places you want to thank, this is the time. If there are any other questions or messages, this is the moment to ask or to collect wisdom. But we need to return.

I offer gratitude to the words that arrived. I offer thanks to the body that moved them from thought to fingertip. I welcome the way things were smooth or hard. I collect any last bits of inspiration and place them carefully on the page for my return.

Because I will come back. I will be back again.