Stream of consciousness writing

What is it?

For this type of writing you express what is in your subconscious through the seemingly random collection of words and ideas that come out of your mind onto the page.  The words flow without judgement or editing for ‘correctness' of grammar or expression.  Virginia Wolfe was renowned for stream of consciousness writing.

This week’s writing was inspired by a suggestion from a friend and writer during one of our writing sessions to write about 21/12/2012 – the end of the Mayan Calendar, and what that means for us and consciousness.

What can you do?

Write for about 10 minutes using your stream of consciousness about 21/12/2012. You might like to consider what you think it is about, how it will affect you and other people and your attitude to the hype.

An example

Your belly has grown full, filled with the watery waves of a new dawn. The gentle pains of healing and release of how we have been treading through the forests of our lives, scratches bare, insides exposed, dripping fluids. A growing pain, gauging your eyes out, messing with your mind, no longer able to rely on past longings of life as it should be. Into the bliss of lighting radiating purity, love in the thump thump of our hearts, free in exuberance. A glow across the globe, lighting into the cracks, opening up the heart centre. Shoooo, shooing, swishing, growing brighter with our imagination, more lovely. Hands joining, fingers clasping, skin to skin, speaking through our energy, rather than words. Knowing in our beings, believing the messages within and above and so is below, and acting on our intuition with wonder and trusting.

Journal: Pillow

A dear friend and I went to a meditation group the other day, specifically for women. When you enter the gentle space you are supposed to embrace the spirit of quietness and compassion. On the floor were rectangle blankets arranged in a circle. On these blankets lay one or two square pillows, the type you would find in India or buy in Tree of Life. My friend and I found our spot and prepared ourselves for meditation. I was immediately drawn to a pink velvety pillow on my friend’s blanket, which I hurriedly grabbed as I mumbled a request to have it. I made a huge presumption that that would be okay for her, but it wasn’t. She frowned in disbelief and scanned the room for an equally appealing pillow, found one (not as sensual and soft) and swapped it for the one I had given her. I sat on my blanket smiling and half laughing through my embarrassment. I immediately knew that I had taken us both back to our childhood when friends and siblings take from us what they want, disregarding our desires. That pillow was a symbol of beautiful things and feeling worthy of having them. And I had taken that from her. When my friend went to the toilet I swapped the pillow back.

Journaling

To begin our writing journey I have been inspired by 'short cuts' or random extracts from Helen Garner's journal published in the Sydney Morning Herald on November 3, 2012. The article contained short snippets from her journal about everyday things like conversations with her grandchildren and the waitress at a cafe, catching a train, watching a DVD or listening to a CD. What touched me was how Garner was a passive observer, yet active participant in life, insightfully appreciating the moment. Apparently she used to burn her journals (and I have done this for years) thinking they were boring. Yet her journals inspired her first novel MONKEY GRIP.

So there you have it. As Paul Kelly says, 'from little things, big things grow!'

What can you do?

So take heed of a great writer and reflect on the moments in your life. Write about a moment in any day in your life that struck you as interesting in some way. Post your journal entry in the comment box below.

An example

Below is a short journal entry about my daily walks.

Just about every day I walk through the caravan park, nodding hello to the permanent residents and holiday makers, stroll across the bridge over the ever changing river that leads me onto the sandy pathway to the great expanse of our beach line. One of my favourite parts of this journey is crossing the bridge, especially at high tide, as all sorts of marine life glide through the jade crystal water - a sting ray and her baby, schools of fish big and small, pelicans dreaming and occasionally playful dolphins.

On this day the water was aglow with hundreds of aqua blue jelly fish pulsating up stream in a collective rhythm. It was such a surprising delight as it was a first for me. I saw a couple approaching the bridge in a canoe and I blurted out with over excitement for them to look out for the jellyfish. I was deflated by their subdued reply that yes they were good, but not good for fishing. Of course I realised that the novelty of seeing this wonder had probably worn off for the couple after they past a steady stream of the jellyfish, although I was perplexed by their response. Did they mean that the jellyfish kept other fish away or that they were a nuisance to catch? I pondered how differently people see the world.

These jellyfish stayed around for several weeks, although not in as plentiful supply. I was more likely to see them washed up on the beach shore, upside down in what I presumed was an undignified manner for them, with their bunch of gherkin like tentacles flopped onto the sand and protective hoods inside out with the sun slowly fading their glistening and glowing gum like bodies.