Recently, I have been reflecting on the process I go through when picking up a book, reading it, and deciding if I will finish it. When I pick up a book, I want it to be helpful. After all, we have only a limited amount of time in this human life. So, when my hand reaches for a book, and I begin turning the first pages, reading the table of contents perhaps, or perusing the first few pages, I will ask myself: Why did I pick this book? What am I looking for?

Then, as I read a bit further, I will ask myself: What was it about this particular book that drew me to into it? What do I like about this author’s style of writing? What is happening with me as I read this book? I often pause and reflect after a page or two. I reflect on these questions throughout the reading experience, which probably makes me a slow reader, but I savor the experience.

I get most of my books from the library. Often, after having finished a book, as I am flipping through it before preparing to return it to the library, it comes to me. I will remember, Oh! That’s why I needed that book! I needed to be reminded of that! The insight arises, and I want to kiss the book and thank it for it beautiful existence because I am reminded of something very inclusive about being in the world.

For example, I recently picked up Daily Rituals by Mason Curry. I wasn’t sure I wanted to read it or not, but saw that it was a small book; contained very short stories about different artist’s habits. That being the case, it felt convenient to pick it up and read a few pages about Twain or Beethoven or Dickinson, etc. I felt irritated that the majority of the artists in the book were male, but then, I sighed, took a deep breath and kept reading it for a few weeks from time to time.

I also wondered: Could reading this be a way to avoid my writing process? But, I decided that reading was also part of writing. After I digested the book, I pressed the book into my hands, felt the cover, and flipped the pages back and forth. I asked myself again: Why did I pick this book? What was it about this book that drew me into it? What was I looking for? What did I like about this author’s style of writing? What happened within me as I read this book? Why did I spend valuable time reading these stories? Then, this insight suddenly arose:

Everybody is channeling.

Every sentient being is constantly channeling energy with their energetic field while additional fields of energy affect them along with much that cannot be named or seen. Writers and artists are not anything special. It appears that the only difference is that they consciously work to channel their energy into a certain form. And, from what I read, many suffered in that process, just like all of us. We suffer. We learn. And when we learn, we find release. And, it is a process of allowing consciousness into the process of learning, unlearning and meeting our suffering.

I am constantly attentive to being aware of how energy is channeled within my body. To bring energy into a written form can seem very hard to me. Why? Because there was a belief that “writers” have some special skill.

Yet, here I am writing these words. Whatever is needed is already happening as I write this piece. Channeling is happening all the time anyway. I can steer the channel toward writing more often and let it become part of my stream of consciousness. My process may be painful at times, even though I do not want to cause harm. At other times, it may feel pleasurable or neutral. It is unpredictable because it is about being open.

Gratefully, there is learning, reflecting, and release.