The Muse & The Musing.


A good friend Casey Leasure posted a gorgeous piece he wrote about his personal Muse. I was mesmerized reading it and I envied how well he could perceive her.

I cut through the veil of my dreams one night
to see just what orchestrated my visions as I slept.
And there before me was a painted woman,
floating gently in the abyss of my thoughts.
Her beauty was intoxicating, as I watched the paintings move and change designs on her body, as if one dream led into another.
No words were spoken, no sound was heard, but a flow of magical movement between her body and soul I watched.
Was this my dream maker?
Was this what guided me between the worlds of conscious and unconscious breaths?
Slowly she danced as her eyes called my soul, yet my body could not touch her, only my breath, only my eyes.
So passionately I loved the Muse behind the veil of my dreams.
Like a potter who sits at his wheel and creates a vase, or an artist who stands before his canvas and paints a masterpiece, the dream maker molds and paints my dreams.
So I say to you, now when I dream, I step behind the veil to commune with that which turns the wheel and paints the canvas.
For I have seen what calls me between the worlds of my conscious and unconscious breath.
~ Casey ~

from the book “Oneness of Soul ”
Chapter ~ Merging Souls of Love ~

Casey is a gifted writer, evidenced by this piece, his beautiful books, and the presence and power of his muse.

I’ve often thought about what my muse looks like, or if I even have one. In mythological terms a muse is a magnificent goddess, often depicted draped in diaphanous garments, with long waves of golden hair, stunning female curves, perfect skin, soulful blue eyes like pools of clear water, perfection personified in a divine way, undulating with creativity and beauty. Whew…wait a minute…I got a little carried away by the cartoon-like images I’ve encountered from Hollywood and other carriers of my favorite fantasies.  Let me reel this in and start over.

In most definitions a muse is a mystical female, a vision of perfect beauty, who inspires a man to create poetry, a novel, a piece of music or a painted masterpiece. She’s usually the source of creative inspiration. I love the idea of a ghostly figure out there somewhere orchestrating the magic that allows us to create art in all its forms. I also love the idea that this energy lives within us and constantly offers us the impulse of creativity. And, by the way, this muse energy is inspiring men AND women!!

During some rest and reflection time I contemplated what the creative impulse feels like in my own being. I’ve been noticing it in a big way for the last few months especially since I began my writing class at the end of August. I feel a nameless something moving within that says “write” one day, “paint” another day, and “take pictures” another. It urges me to reflect very deeply about almost everything that comes into my awareness. For instance, I’ve noticed that every recipe that turns up on my Facebook feed seems like something I can tweak and make into my own creation. And speaking of the kitchen, I’ve been concocting all sorts of delicious meals using the ingredients resident in my fridge or cupboards using only my wits and that nameless something that says “do it”.

In this moment as I write I feel a quickening in my physical body. It’s like a buzzing, or a gentle electrical charge that seems to come up through my feet and down from the top of my head, meeting somewhere in the middle of my belly and twirling around itself as it moves continuously. I imagine what is called Kundalini energy in yogic terms, combining with the essence of the indwelling divine spirit that is called the Shekinah in Hebrew; mixing and mingling with all of the electromagnetic energy that is generated by my heart muscle and the other amazing systems that work synergistically to sustain life. I see it as multi-colored sparkling light moving at will in, around and throughout my physical being surrounding me like a huge halo reaching out into the ethers of the Universe and touching all of the energies emanating from you and every other living being near and far.

What I’ve concluded, at least for today, is that my muse is not a mystical goddess-like nymph. Neither is it the epitome of male perfection and beauty, sad to say. My muse is light. My muse is electromagnetic energy. My muse is the impulse that emanates from the depths of my hearts – the physical heart that beats my life force and the ethereal heart that connects me to my Buddha nature. My muse is the combination of my resident divine feminine and sacred masculine as they combine in an erotic dance that ignites my inner fire and moves me to create. Like my friend Casey, I can just about see it…twirling and spinning within me sending its sparks in every direction. And today I bow in humble gratitude for the greeting I receive upon recognizing it as it says to me, “Do it. I’ll be right here.”      ~FD

*Photo from “The Way of the Mantra”.



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