I’ve gotta say, it’s a little spooky. This whole subconscious mind phenomenon isn’t exactly new to me, but I’ve come to experience it in ways I’d never imagined before. Don’t worry, I’m not crazy. At least I don’t think I’m crazy. Note to self: ask therapist if I’m crazy.
What am I talking about? Let me see if I can describe it. It’s like a daydream; one that you enter into willingly and with no preconceived notions. You don’t question anything. You just move along the mysterious path of images that come to mind, emotions that well up as you find yourself in the situation, and take the left fork in the road for no apparent reason. You keep moving, not knowing what you might come upon next, sometimes wondering why you did what you did three blocks back yet choosing to trust and wait for the answer to come later. Once in a while there’s an aha moment that gathers up and frames a million loose ends into a single cohesive insight, giving you a momentary assurance that there’s some kind of plan for the journey. You’re just a traveler on the road; a road that someone else has paved; someone else who seems to know what lies ahead even when you have no clue. Then you come upon an abruptly revealed vista unfurling a light magnificent that delights the soul and brings tears of joyful surprise to the eyes because suddenly … it all fits.
Is that weird? Am I wigging you out? Good. Because this whole thing wigs me out too, but it’s also exhilarating.
I used to work in the corporate world where people do things for expedience. To-do lists, deadlines, schmoozing, promotions, and performance measures were things that mattered most. Whenever I hit a wall of stress or anxiety, I would step back and imagine myself on the moon where the vantage point was broad enough to see everyone in the circumstances. I had to let go of my little miss smarty-pants mindset and let the images come on their own time. The images brought insights, understanding, and resignation. Resignation you ask? Yes. Resignation to the unknown behind the outward actions of the individuals involved. As for me, I always came away with the sense that there was something I needed to release from my grip, and that once I did, I would be free to move down the path that had been paved ahead of me.
If you’ve read any of the books in my Clairvoyant Serial, you know there’s some kind of otherworldly dimension of existence at play in the story. I believe this is a real “thing.” When we’re open, we can be drawn into a state of creative daydreaming. It’s a kind of “seeing” beyond the outward and the obvious (or, in what was once my case, the to-do lists, the deadlines, the office politics, etc.). It feels like chaos, but I’ve learned not to be afraid; it’s where creativity lives and thrives.
One of my favorite books is called The Ideal Life by Henry Drummond. In the chapter entitled Clairvoyance, he writes this:
… “Look…at the things which are not seen” (2 Corinthians 4:18). We now understand how to do this. Where is the eternal? Where are the unseen things, that we may look at them? And the answer is: in the temporal. Look, then, at the temporal, but do not pause there. You must penetrate it. Go through it, and see its shadow, its spiritual shadow, on the further side. Look upon this shadow long and earnestly until what you look through becomes the shadow, and the shadow merges into the reality. Look through until the thing you look through becomes dim, then transparent, and then invisible, and the unseen beyond grows into form and strength. For, truly, the first thing seen is the shadow; the thing on the other side, the reality. The thing you see is only a solid, and people mistake solidity for reality. But the eternal that lies behind—that alone is the reality. Look, then, not at the things that are seen, but look through them to the things that are unseen.
The great lesson that emerges from all this is the religious use of the temporal world. Heaven lies behind earth. We see that this earth is not merely a place to live in but to see in. We are to pass through it as “clairvoyants,” holding the whole temporal world as a vast transparency through which the eternal shines.
Drummond, Henry. Ideal Life, The: Listening For God’s Voice, Discerning His Leading. Whitaker House. Kindle Edition.
I consider this a great discovery, especially for those of you who, like me, have been afraid to let go and offer your creative projects to chaos, chance, or irrational inspiration. Believe me, your subconscious voice can be trusted, even more than your own rational, methodical, and critical voice would ever allow you to believe.
Go for it!