In an email exchange with a friend the topic of "intuition" came up. It ties in deeply with the things I have been trying to capture in my studio lately (eek, capture, that sounds a bit like I'm chasing a fly around the house). As part of a project on "seeking authentic voice" I have been turning my attention to "listening" and patience during my studio time. I have had mixed success with both. Given I'm not a particularly patient person (who, moi, as Miss Piggy would say) I expected patience and listening to happen right away! I learned these are skills that, well, get this, take patience to develop. (Duh, as Homer Simpson would say) Where do these guys come from??
But when my friend talked about intuition, I began to revisit the "listening" aspect of practice. Gasp, I learned I'm not the greatest listener! I recognized that cultivation of that "still small voice" requires the willingness to just sit and be with the canvas in the same way you would be with a friend who is telling you some story from their life, something important and arresting. If the voice is still and small, it requires quiet and attention, right? Otherwise in my busyness, my need to get on with things, get something done, exert my wants, I drown out that voice.
I think we have to be willing, willing to do what needs to be done to hear this voice, willing to clear a space for it, willing to be available, willing to explore and be quirky and creative in that exploration, and ultimately, willing to receive. I think of myself as this little short wave radio set, just tuning in to see what's out there. And then of course having faith once I find a channel that's not all static, to believe that this is a channel
that I am supposed to be listening to. John Daidoo Loori talks alot about this receptive state in his wonderful book,
"The Zen of Creativity"
Here's what Jisho Perry of the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives has to say on listening for that still small voice:
"Most of the time we are not quiet enough to hear anything other
than the noisy demands of our greeds, angers, worries,
fears, frustrations and the "busyness" of our everyday lives.
Our culture encourages a constant input of noise: the music
in elevators, or while waiting on the phone, car radios, car
phones, television, radios, headsets to wear while exercising.
We have a difficult task to find a quiet time when there is
not a major input of external noise. Even when we have
established a time in our day for meditation, when we can
listen to the silence, it is usually anything but silent. It still
takes time to let go of the internal noises we generate for
ourselves. If we establish a regular practice of meditation we
create a situation where the noise and busy mental
processes can settle."
So I am heading into the studio with my headset on and my magic decoder ring. I'll send you a picture. I am really going for it. I will strap a pair of those old rabbit ears onto my head. You know those ones we used to put on the TV. Remember those. And when the reception was particularly difficult we'd put some tinfoil on the round tips at the ends. Pass the tinfoil, please.