The Sound Of Inspiration
In a recent post, I quoted E.B. White, who said, “All writing is communication; creative writing is communication through revelation — it is the Self escaping into the open.”
I’m intrigued by this notion of writing as self-revelation, because it’s what keeps me coming back to my desk day after day. Not because I have a message for the world, not because I have a story to tell, but because as I find the words to convey the message, to tell the story, I feel my future self reaching into the present to meet me at the tip of the pen.
It’s deeply, intrinsically pleasurable, because this me-who-is-not-yet is always a larger, more complete, wiser person than the me-who-is-now. She knows more, this future self, and she is aligned with what novelist and essayist Aldous Huxley called “the greater non-self.” Huxley describes this non-self as arriving in either a “great uprush” or a “downrush,” but for me it arrives quietly, as it did for the prophet Elijah, who met God, not in the strong wind nor in the earthquake nor in the raging fire, but in a tiny whispering sound.
A tiny whispering. It’s the sound of inspiration.