Writing When Our Words Make No Sense
On making real, in the physical world, our meta-physical experiences.
Originally Published in: The Writing Co-Operative
Writing, journaling, or otherwise recording the insights gained from particularly mindful moments in our lives is a practice that is often interwoven within the context of meditative practices, whether active or otherwise. The importance of written recollection is accentuated in, and complementary to, many spiritual practices as well.
To adopt a broader cultural perspective, one can observe the monumental impact that writing has had upon human existence in its entirety. The advent of writing allowed us to pass knowledge and information that bettered, in many ways, the lives of proceeding generations. It has helped us develop in ways that were previously impossible, augmenting our understanding of self, relationship, and the universe around us.
While the importance of chronicling our experiences is applicable to benevolent endeavors, it is simultaneously and often more of an intensely personal experience that can aid in our individual expansion (which just so happens to generally be of benefit to the rest of the world).
When applied with the intention of making sense of our human experience and our personal practices, recording our inner journey can lend support to our progression in innumerable ways.
Writing down is to make real something in the physical world that is experienced in the intellectual, emotional, or spiritual layer(s) of our being.
This becomes an especially potent practice after moments of epiphany, or to put it differently, instances where we are more aligned or engaged with the subconscious, the higher-self, or whatever term may be used to describe the indescribable.
I speak primarily of those moments that are associated with a grand sense of confidence and knowing in our ability to be who and how we want to be.
Such things can be elicited in many ways, and are often unconventionally and uniquely individualized. The practices and instances where we feel this clarity and stillness, and which are thusly highly congruent with personal record, often include:
Upon awaking from dream states or deep sleep, when we try to make sense of the absurdity of our sleeping mind and, perhaps more strenuously, the immense contrast between the ‘real’ world and that which we experience in deep sleep.
After other periods of extended stillness: cloud gazing, time in nature, meditation, massages/healing work etc.
After any iteration of a movement practice, perhaps more often meditative movement practices (Yoga, Tai Chi, Qi Gong, etc.), but also including more normative physical experiences like running or walking.
After sexual encounters
Concerts, isolated experiences and quality time with friends or loved ones
In general, any event that leads one to feel particularly elated, curious, calm, and certain about some facet of one’s being.
Writing in any form, though more so in works of focused self-reflection, helps us make sense of the lessons and guidance that is always coming through. These teachings are, by and large, difficult for our conscious minds to understand or adequately internalize, thus furthering the importance of a written record.
Much of the time, especially after the experiences to which I alluded, our words don’t make much intellectual sense. Sensical detail, however, is not really the point here. It is actually rather unimportant.
I’ve found nonsense to be a key ingredient in becoming a better self-reflector.
When recording one’s dreams, for instance, it is not uncommon to omit details for the very reason that they do not make sense. When we recall these rapidly fading memories in the hope of attaining greater self-understanding, informational tidbits that at first appear inconsequential can often be the most insightful when later revisited.
We can’t make sense of the energetic world because words, and really any human language or sound, cannot comprehensively convey the totality of our experience. It ’s like living in a world of black and white, seeing color for the first time, and then trying to explain this to others.
As we develop the habit of recording our unfiltered mental output, themes inevitably start to emerge from our seemingly disconnected life experiences to form something that we can more concretely understand with our conscious minds.
Having these records and a subsequent summation of our experiences, dating back days, years, or months, better informs us as to the messages that are trying to come through from our inner-guidance, some incomprehensible higher power, or even the role models and thought leaders whom we have attracted and look to for help in navigating our humanity.
This clarity that we receive can come in the form of deliberating over decisions we’ve made or ones that we’re actively pondering, insight that leads to further exploration in other introspective circumstances, or even a more general awareness and sense of what feels good to us (i.e. thinking materialism is the key to happiness, but then coming to a true knowing, more than a merely intellectual one, that such things aren’t fulfilling and aren’t what make us happy). Alternatively, we can develop an idea as to what it is in our lives (patterns, habits, relationships, jobs) that aren’t congruent with the path we’ve chosen to walk and that we therefore wish to leave behind.
Writing of our experiences in these states can also provide a necessary transition back into physical reality after we have a strong out-of-body experience.
It can aid in dissipating the sense of separation that one can often feel between spirituality and the world that we live in, a comfort that I’ve come to welcome.
Meditation or mindfulness practices can seem averse to what we’re used to in our day-to-day experiences.
Writing helps me to examine how I can better apply the learnings and breakthroughs that I’ve come to on an energetic level into the real world. It helps me embody them in such a way that is sustainable, and which I can gleefully introduce into my relationship with myself, with others, and with the world around me.