The Himalayan Foothills. Oft spoke about as a sort of spiritual mecca, as if this land, this place, this range of magnificent rock formation emanates a certain vibration. Perhaps it does. I am not to dispel such theories if they exist. Only that, one’s soul is omnipresent and that vastness of space is with us wherever we may go. Including this journey to the Himalayas, a journey that took me over 2,000 kilometres, across six states and via seven modes of transport. Took us, I should say; for my co-author and I both decided to leave the distracting circumstances of the world aside for five days and focus. The book, the novel, is always our point of focus but here in Himachal, we wanted to soak ourselves in its mystery, its magic and let the story of it unfold. And so it did.
Five months. The gap between the last blog post and the one before that. That gap represents a lifetime of love, lessons and all the stardust in between. Stardust that is still settling… still taking shape… I realised however that perhaps this is how it will always be… life cascading in waves around us as we watch with wonder at its unfolding. There have been moments of inspired flight, of howling pain, of unbelievable magic, and of deep disappointment. There have been moments as far reaching as the dunes of a sandy desert and as illusory as a mirage within it, moments where doubt held as much weight as the certainty of daylight, and moments where time simply stood still. The full range of human emotion has visited my house, stayed for supper and left just as swiftly. And all the while I’ve been watching the stardust.
Here’s the thing. I’m writing a novel. I am writing a novel with my co-author and we’re about half way through. It’s a bigger deal than I ever anticipated it would be. My co-author is currently on a different continent, which makes things even more of a bigger deal. I have never before co-authored a book, collaborated on a creative project or indeed allowed someone to share that sacred space of one’s own creative spirit.
This time though, I took the leap. I jumped into that void we call the unknown and plunged myself into the book. In reality everything is unknown, and when we let go of trying to exert control and knowing, life runs more smoothly, words spill effortlessly from the ink pot through the pen, smokescreens of confusion suddenly lift and we cease troubling ourselves with trying to work it all out.
So, here’s a call to “mind the gap”. Gaps are okay, pauses are necessary and we need not always fill the hole, break the silence or avoid the gap. Just be mindful of its existence and allow yourself to expand into it.