I recently offered a biodynamic craniosacral session to a friend who was visiting New Mexico.
She asked me why I seemed so ignited, so full of grace, so alive with inspiration. I remarked that I could remember times in life when I was not exactly ignited, even though I've generally lived with the spark of creating (what it means to be a "poet" in etymological terms, after all), and that these times of known-misery had provided the ground upon which I today am able to savor and evenly return to inspiration as a priority.
In other words, the discomfort of misery can inspire one to move past the misery.
And then, how does one become ignited?
Oh, the enumerated poets and artists who have been engulfed by the flames of inspiration! And also, scientists, mathematicians, mothers, fathers, nuns, school teachers, engineers, lovers, comedians, wine connoisseurs, small business owners, pilots, tattoo artists and the list goes on and on.
In my travel today, touching lines on a cool stone in the REI parking lot, and then sitting down there to watch the tree shadows on buildings delivering a sense of warmth to the surroundings, like a returning season giving fair warning.
The steps: to stop, and be. And breathe. And ignore haste. And touch something.
And be receptive.
Being willing to see.
To see the substance of life as an "as-is" thing. Not the label on a clothing item describing its torn or improperly sewn hem, but the "is-ness" of life. Grit. Mar. Texture. Smell. Etc. And also, the impression received by the poet. In the body. The heart.
Poetic Receptivity: to become ignited while being receptive to becoming ignited! To make one's mind into a flammable material.
Friend, set yourself alight, on no uncertain terms, with the flames of your most inspired thoughts, words, or deeds. Be like the sun, stapled so high in the sky, supplying a season of warmth to all those who dare to receive you!