Faust, the Heart
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“What you don’t feel, you will not grasp by art,
Unless it wells out of your soul
And with sheer pleasure takes control,
Compelling every listener’s heart.
But sit – and sit, and patch and knead,
Cook a ragout, reheat your hashes,
Blow at the sparks and try to breed
A fire out of piles of ashes!
Children and apes may think it great,
If that should titillate your gum,
But from heart to heart you will never create.
If from your heart it does not come.”
Faust I
Such is my daily practice of blogging. It asks, if it be an honest endeavor, that I first get in touch with my own heart, that I am honest and plain with myself, so I might find something worthy of sharing with other ardent hearts who walk the same arduous path.
As you might imagine, this is not always easy. The discipline of coming to a quiet, still place on a daily basis is mortal threat to the cacophonous shrieks of specialness. Resistance rears its noisy head regularly. Inspiration can then feel choked, suffocated. My mind falls into infertility, futility. This is all part of the classroom I have chosen. What is experienced as resistance to writing is really resistance to content.
Some days I reheat my hashes and nibble at the end of my virtual-pencil until it turns to ashes. I stare blankly out the window and wait for the Phoenix to reappear, for that inner spark of inspiration to rise from the dry and dusty world of my mind. It’s not unlike doing the workbook. There have been days I have forgotten I have a blog until 10pm, and then I put down the toothbrush and patch and knead until something of value is given birth. But it can be painful and unwelcome. There have been posts – posts that I love – that I fought every inch of the way, only to lean back in exhaustion at their conclusion and think it all worthwhile.
On other days the well of inspiration is a lush spring, and when it does flow effortlessly and with sheer pleasure from my heart, it is honest, unashamed, and joyful, even if expressed darkly, simply, or with humor. In the end it is nothing more or less than my process, not unlike any other.
My daily blog… “From the heart to the heart.”
