6 Minutes

When I’m at work, I focus on work. When I’m home, I focus on writing. I was following this pattern on Tuesday morning at work. Problems were being solved. But, more than I realized.

When I reached for a drink of water, I found another part of my brain was still concentrated. I could feel it straining. I was confused. What problem was I trying to solve now? I was in between work problems. Oh well, drink over – on to the next work problem.

A couple hours later, as I walked toward the restrooms, I felt it again. What was this pressure? Was I forgetting an important task? It was bothering me now. Still, I ignored it when I arrived back at my desk. I had work problems to solve, goals to achieve. If it was a work task I had forgotten about, I would remember when it was ready to share with me.

Lunch time. I walked to the kitchen. The concentration continued. I felt it as soon as I set my work aside. And then an idea was thrown to the center stage of my mind.

It was a potential answer – not one I would accept, but it might lead to a viable option – to a question I had asked myself the night before:

Where was He heading?

More like a series of questions. What was my ending? I had one previously, but things had changed. Before I started the middle segment of the book, I needed to reaffirm and re-alize my ending.

It hit me in a rapid, multi-crash wave. My subconscious mind was working on my novel problem while my conscious mind focused on my work problems.

Throughout the afternoon, every time I reached for my water, I felt that pressure. But now I smiled. I let my subconscious mind work on my novel while I did my job. I accomplished my goal for the work day, working toward the two week goal.

I called my grandmother on my drive home and spoke with her briefly. After we hung up, the snapshots of multiple scenes came fast and vibrant. I had my ending. I knew where he was going. I was elated. My subconscious had answered the question. (Our brains truly are incredible.)

I glanced at the clock after I parked the car. 6 Minutes. It had only been 6 minutes since I hung up with my grandmother.

I replayed and developed the snapshot scenes as I walked up to my 3rd floor apartment with a smile on my face. I fed my cat (crazy cat lady, yes), and then sat down and wrote for an hour and a half, before taking a break to feed myself.

I feel so blessed to experience this discovery – to create.

 

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6 Comments

Filed under Writing

6 responses to “6 Minutes

  1. Our brains really are amazing! I think your experience shows why a lot of writing books/classes tell writers to always carry a notebook so we can write ideas as they come to us. However, it’s not like you can just sit and write that long at work! Ha, ha! I’m glad you got to write when you got home! 🙂

  2. Joyce Peters

    This is really strange as I had just seen the files of your writings last week and wondered why I had not seen any new postings for a long time. Then ta-da here you are..I can relate to the feelings of ideas working in the “other part of the brain” that just pop out at times. I am at the age I need to grab a pen and paper quickly or they may just fly away! Keep up the writing and I would love hearing from you too.

    • Yes, it has been too long a sabbatical. I am glad to be back. 🙂 Our brains are so complex, and are far more capable than we allow them to be much of the time.
      It is wonderful to hear from you. You will be hearing more from me soon. 🙂

      • Writing is walking with your soul. Scared excursion. It draws you in without vacating what is without. In it you gain intimacy and access life with yourself, others and the Divine – all the Saints and those who suffer and are estranged: walking in the high wire.

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