I often hear writers talking about what I call the “flow state.”  Words pour from their pens and computer keyboards.  Pages fill on their own.  Story problems solve themselves; characters invent themselves; scenes write themselves.  I’ve heard many ways of describing this, all of which seem to take the writer out of the driver’s seat.

“This story wrote itself.”

“I felt like I was taking dictation.”

“I didn’t even think I was capable of that kind of writing.  It just happened.”

Interesting, yes?  As if the energy we use to pursue this crazy endeavor comes from outside ourselves.  As if even the story ideas come from outside ourselves.

I believe that’s how it works.  I call it writing from the Big Mind.

I’m not here to talk about religion.  There are as many ways to experience spirituality as there are people.  No matter what your faith, this idea makes perfect sense.  We have been given a gift.  This passion.  This skill.  This love.

If we’ve got the gift, doesn’t it make sense that we use it to tap into the same energy that gave it to us in the first place?

For me, writing is as much a spiritual pursuit as it is my chosen career.  In fact, I think the spiritual aspect came first: The call to do this, and to do this in a way that will earn a living.

It’s not desperation.  It’s inspiration. 

I’ve heard lots of professional artists say that they achieved success in their chosen fields of endeavor because they didn’t know how to do anything else.  That’s not the case for me.  After twenty years in the Air Force, I can design resumes for a half dozen career fields from management to industrial security. 

But I do this better than I do anything else.  I burn to do this.  I have a vision.  I’d be willing to bet you do, too.

An interviewer once asked film director Steven Spielberg what he thought God might say to him if they were given an opportunity for a face-to-face.  Note that the question concerns what God would say to him, not what he would say to God.

Spielberg’s reply:  God would say “thanks for listening.”

Yes, this is a spiritual thing.  It’s about internal growth through stories.  There is no better job, no more fulfilling profession.  We are continually challenged.  We are always beginners, reborn in every new project.

I believe rebirth is a key facet in the experience of Big Mind.  Buddhists certainly agree.  The concept of rebirth is, of course, very important in Christianity as well.    

Yet, for every writer who says “this story wrote itself,” I hear another who says, “I’m writing this because Editor X likes it.  I’m writing this because the paycheck is good.  I’m not passionate about this subject, but there’s a market for it.”

That is writing from the Little Mind.  It’s just you – you and your own head.  You and your own earthbound, limited, single perspective.

I try not to get too heavy-handed and judgemental in my approach to writing and teaching.  My two favorite words are “whatever works.”  Writing from the Little Mind doesn’t work. Your ego doesn’t have enough energy to keep it going for very long.  It’s like trying to run a Ferrari F430 on a 9-volt flashlight battery.  You won’t even get out of the driveway.

Stories reach for something huge, something grand – something far larger than ourselves.  We write because we need to write.  People still read because they need stories.  It’s essential humanity.

Little Mind will tell you to write what’s popular, so you can sell your work.  It’ll tell you to write things you don’t really care about so you can get a byline.  It’ll tell you how to make a living.

Big Mind will tell you how to expand your concept of the world, our connections with each other, human consciousness.

Which of the above is likely to produce more story ideas?