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At this stage of my experience as a creator, I can say with certainty that none of my creations come from me. An idea, a spark, that I pick up from the ether may move through me, find shape within the matrix of my personal constitution, as if my personality and experiences were a tall scaffolding structure, and the idea fighting to take form were a bunch of silly putty falling from the sky an arranging itself around the bones of my structure.

It is the structure that I can take credit for. Not for the silly putty, the thought, or the idea, which, after all this time and science, the origins of which cannot be pinpointed.

When I take credit, it is for being a vessel clear and hollow enough (or a structure sturdy enough–the duality!) to receive inspiration. Information.

Inspiration; spirit. Information; form. Spirit. Form.

And one need not prescribe to dogma to believe in spirit. I feel, and have felt, my spirit so deeply, without ever having to rely on an authority to tell me I had one.

I remember distinctly in a literature theory class at university, studying all of these different theorists, and always mixing up their names, confusing who believed what, because subconsciously I didn’t think it was important. “Well, the ideas are out there,” I’d say. “That’s all that matters, right? Who cares whose idea is whose?”

And perhaps in its own way, this was a mild form of spiritual bypassing (one definition of spiritual bypassing according to, is “the use of spiritual practices and beliefs to avoid dealing with our painful feelings, unresolved wounds, and developmental needs”).

To disregard the specific matrix that spirit passes through, in favor of pure, unadulterated spirit, is not good enough. Maybe in another dimension. Here, we have material bodies, and material experiences, so it does matter whose ideas are whose. Because their history and influences are an important consideration.

I am learning to accept credit for the things that move through me, even though it’s made me uncomfortable in the past, even though I’ve wanted to dissociate from my creations because their origins were seemingly too mysterious for me to claim them. But owning up to my work is owning up to my history.

It takes work to be a clear enough vessel. And I’m not saying that I have the formula. But my effort, and your effort, and our effort, deserves acknowledgement.

Buen Viaje,