Semantics

Oct. 21, 2009j0395952The other day, a man I’d never met before asked me what my book was about.

“It’s supernatural; it’s spiritual—about a mystical experience I had in the middle of a concert that changed my life. It also involves a famous rock star…” I started to say.

As I spoke, I noticed that the man, an older gentleman dressed in a biker’s vest with the word “VET” sewn onto it, was attempting to disguise the look of disappointment spreading across his face.

“Supernatural is different than spiritual,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and backing off a bit.

“No, I had an out of body experience…” I continued, and this time as I tried to explain it to him, I used the word “God.”

His eyes lit up and he moved closer. “God isn’t supernatural; God is natural. He is everything.”

“Oh yes! It’s everything!” I grinned, feeling joy moving into all my internal organs.

The man went on to tell me that he too, had had an out of body experience. “The Holy Spirit came to me as I lay dying in a hospital bed.”

“How did you know it was the Holy Spirit?” I asked him. “Did you see it?”

He gestured an arc around himself. “No, I felt it all around me.”

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He explained that the Holy Spirit told him it wasn’t his time to die yet and it would show him what to do to keep on living. “I was completely at peace and felt the presence of God,” he said. And the more he talked, the more I realized that that was exactly what had happened to me six years ago in Cabo.

When I told him the details of my experience, he suddenly became very excited about my book and wanted to know more.

What had initially misled him was my use of the word “supernatural,” which obviously had a different meaning to him than it does to me.

Semantics.

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Merriam-webster.com defines “semantics” as: “the language used to achieve a desired effect on an audience, especially through the use of words with novel or dual meanings.”

How then, do I get past semantics so as not to mislead or confuse people? According to the experts, I’m supposed to be able to describe my book in one or two sentences. Yeah, right. It takes me a paragraph at best. Maybe I just haven’t found the right words yet, or maybe it’s just the nature of my subject, I don’t know.

If I say my book is spiritual, or that it involves God, it gives the connotation that it’s religious and some may be turned off by this, as rock ‘n’ roll and religion don’t necessarily blend well.

If I use the words “supernatural,” “paranormal,” “mystical,” “metaphysical,” or “psychic,” some may immediately assume that my book is occult in nature and look at me as if I’ve lost my marbles.

If I say it’s about a famous rock star, people might think it’s a shallow account of a fan gushing over a celebrity. Even I wouldn’t read a book like that!

So how do I describe ecstasy in God, a supernatural force, psychic experiences, out-of-body realms, otherworldly connections, rock stars, self-realization and the utmost joy, in one or two sentences in order to convey the fact that I am describing one thing that encompasses all of these? These components are the means that led me to my personal definition of what God is—the realization of the ultimate perfection, the ultimate everything. It also matters not if one believes in God—self-realization is available to everyone.

Since my experience, I’ve met several people, the Veteran included, who have told me that they too, have had experiences similar to mine. And I’ve read a lot of books that say this too: “Conversations with God” by Neale Donald Walsch, “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle to name a few.

These people all describe the same feelings and emotions involved in their mystical moment and many say it changed their lives.

Author Maxwell Steer writes:

“Mystical experience may be defined as being an ‘infinite intimacy’, a sense of fulfilment in which the subject is simultaneously aware of the limitless nature of the Universe and yet of hir (sic) intimate relationship to a force sensible as an identifiable personality. It is simultaneously the experience of everything and nothing, of knowing all yet being empty, of hearing within silence all sound. Different religious traditions identify this state individually – nirvana, mushín, Shambhala, Buddhahood, mystical union, alchemical marriage, shekinah – yet it can be seen as a common goal of all esoteric teaching, an experience of oneness beyond the world of duality. It need not even occur in a religious context. To me those very rare moments of total understanding that can arise in connection with works of art are clearly in the same category – that clarity of vision and sense of contact with some archetypal personality… some archetypal source of consciousness that transcends rational knowledge.”

And while we report similar experiences, each person’s manner of expressing what happened to them is slightly different, because each person is unique in their perception of the world around them. It’s like describing the color purple—one person might call it “lilac,” while another says “lavender,” and another expresses it using the word “plum” or “violet.”

But it’s still the same color.

 

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There’s a Supernatural Force…

Nov. 22, 2009

…that desperately wants me to tell my story, DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD.

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I’m absolutely positive about this because my post, “Semantics,” dated Oct. 21, 2009, almost didn’t get published, for the same reason I keep working so hard at DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD. I’m trying to cross all my “t’s” and dot all my “i’s” and bending over backward to get everyone’s approval every step of the way—I’m so afraid of offending anyone.

But I believe our interpretations of the events in our lives and the meaning of those events is something that is strictly personal and comes to us in a way that’s unique to each person’s way of understanding. What’s right for one isn’t necessarily right for someone else. This goes for tastes in food and living conditions as well as spiritual beliefs.

Just when I’d been hesitating to publish “Semantics,” I received an update from the founder of the Northern Colorado Writer’s Association, of which I am a member. Kerrie Flanagan’s blog featured a gifted writer by the name of Laura Resau, who wrote about how shamanism played a major role in a lot of her books. Laura said shamans believe that their power comes from a divine source and this power translates itself into words or stories, much like what writers have to do. She also provided a link to a talk by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the immensely successful EAT, PRAY, LOVE.

In Gilbert’s video, she spoke about the insecurity writers have, and the need for us to learn to distance ourselves from the world’s criticism.

She mentioned that in his last interview before his death, the famous author Norman Mailer said: “Every one of my books has killed me a little more.”

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Wow, can I relate. Each and every revision of my book has killed me a little more too—how much do I reveal? How much do I leave out because it’s too personal? What are people going to think of me?

One of my favorite songs is “Pages,” by 3 Doors Down. It’s about spilling one’s heart out for the world, bleeding for the eyes of the public and wondering if it’s all really worth it. But as artists, we have no other choice, we can’t not do it, that’s what makes the process so painfully wonderful.

So as I listened to Gilbert talk about creating distance between herself and other people’s reactions to her writing, I was even more surprised when she said that one’s art isn’t the result of the artist at all, but the result of some sort of spiritual “being” speaking through the artist. Now this may sound odd, but it makes perfect sense to me. I too, have felt its presence from the beginning of my writing this book. I’ve called it a supernatural force—and it is. It has directed all of this from the start. Perhaps it even directed me to Gilbert’s video, because it “just happened” to come along when I needed it most.

Gilbert described writing as: “the utter madding capriciousness of the creative process… that does not always behave rationally and in fact can sometimes feel downright paranormal…”

Oh yes.

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She said it makes more sense to believe that “the most extraordinary aspects of your being… were on loan to you from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life to be passed along, when you’re finished, to somebody else…” than to bear the entire egotistical burden that the artist is solely responsible for the end result.

Believing in divine influence was readily accepted in ancient times, so where did we get the notion in these contemporary times, that we are more than mere vessels to deliver the message? How many authors, singers, songwriters, poets, actors have attributed their talent to God or other supernatural forces?

Lots.

For me, it all comes down to trusting in that force to take me where I’m supposed to go. If I can keep believing in that, and according to Elizabeth Gilbert, the notion that it is responsible for what comes out of my pen or my keyboard, if something wonderful is gained by others because of my effort, that’s the greatest possible accomplishment! And if not, I can always blame the outcome on that force: “Damn! You really messed up this time, didn’t you dude?”

I like this idea! It takes the pressure off of me to try and please everyone. 🙂

Even Thoreau said: “Say what you have to say, not what you ought!”

¡Olé!

(In case you’re interested, here’s a link to hear “Pages”)