ORIGINAL BLISS

Wake Up Call

 

He whispered in my ear this morning.

The clock read 6:30.

What the eff??? He couldn't wait for a decent hour? I mean, I work nights...I had a 14 hour overtime shift I was trying to rest for!

But nooooooooooo....what does he know about timing?

"I wish people would remember the things I did in my life, the way I acted toward people, the things I said to them, how well, and deeply, I loved and cared for them."

"Uh huh," I mumbled, rolling over, trying to find a cool spot on the sheets.

"People say they understand, yet the words they speak and the way they act, don't reflect that."

"Yeah, I know." I squish the pillow over my ears. "Please please please let me sleep." I say that just to myself, not to him.

"They spend a lot of time pointing their fingers at the very same people I devoted my life to...the poor, the sick, the hungry, the outcasts. Their words ring of judgement, not love. They separate rather than unify."

He was on a rant now.

"They say it's the truth, but it isn't my truth. It is the complete opposite of how I went about fulfilling my life's purpose. 

Yet, they do it in my name!

Which, quite frankly, pisses me off...

even more than that day when I went all hyphee in that temple."

"Jesus!" I half cried, half took his name in vain.

"Yeah."

"Duuuuuude! I'm really trying to sleep here and your getting all deep and philosophical and shit. Does this have to be right now?"

"Well, it is the only time you slow down and shut up long enough to listen."

True that. He got me there.

He was quiet long enough for me to start slipping back into La-La Land.

"I wish people would realize that my second coming was never going to be me descending from the clouds on a golden UFO."

Oh, geez....I'm awake again. That's gonna bum some people out.

"My second coming is every day...

in every heart...

the moment you remember WHO YOU ARE...

that we are one...

and when you take up my mantle and continue the work that I started."

He let me sit with that. I mean, what could I say? He was right. As usual....

I started drifting back to sleep.

"Hey, Shannan."

"Yes, Jesus."

"Could you imagine what kind of world it would be if just one person remembered who they were for just 10 seconds?"

I could imagine that.

"Could you imagine them in that moment being completely full of the love they were created with?"

I imagined that, too, and smiled. 

"And then, what if they passed just a fraction of that love on to one other person? Could you imagine the ripple effect that would create? What your world could be like?"

I imagined that, and it filled me with joy, and peace, and a mass of Christ.

"Hey, Jesus."

"Yeah."

"If I blog this conversation will you let me sleep?"

"Deal."

 

 

Namaste,

Shannan

What Are We Really Made Of?

 

 

Now that the major thrust of the Dream Walker book launch is behind me, it is back to the writing desk. Since my goal is to have Time Walker completed in time for Christmas, I have to really buckle down and get to work.

Writing is a discipline—not a gift. Some writers may have a really amazing way with words, but they got it on paper because of dedication and stamina—true grit.

One of my favorite things about the writing process is researching the ideas behind what I am writing about. Since my characters have a knack for leaving the physical realm, I spend a lot of time exploring the esoteric, paranormal, mystical, and quantum. Trying to find what lies poutside the box, so I can pull it back into the box. Not so unlike my protagonist, Aislen Walker.

So now that I am taking on the marathon of novel writing, I will not be blogging as intensely. What I will do is share some of the ideas I find during my explorations. Like this lil' nugget from Brian Greene: String Theory in Under 2 Minutes.

Enjoy. Then think about it.

 

What is that vibrating little string? And what makes it vibrate? 

Shannan 

We live in the fiction.

Reposted from shannansinclair.com

An Apology to My Muse

No one likes to say "I'm sorry." But when we have wronged someone, turned our back on them, or invalidated them in some way, we owe them an apology. And I owe my muse an apology.

Yes, I have a muse. It is not uncommon amongst writers, musicians and artists. Homer and Virgil publicly invoked them in their respective epics, John Lennon let his ruin The Beatles, and The Bard dedicated 25 sonnets to his "dark lady." Muses have inspired everything from poetry and music to hairstyles (Google Astrid Kirchherr) and movies (Remember Xanadu?).

Well, I have a muse, too.

While muses are typically female, and in recent times, human...mine's a dude and supernatural.

I know. Weird. 

But those of you who know me from Original Bliss, know I'm a little odd - "kooky" has actually been the term used. But you also know I tell it like it is. So there you have it. I have a little spirit in the closet. Actually, I don't think he's little, he seems like he's quite tall. And he doesn't stick around in my closet or even my house. He mostly roams the Multiverse. If he has a name, I don't know it. It is probably unpronounceable to our Earthly tongue. So I just call him "Muse" when I feel him around or shout out "Muse!" when I need him. He isn't always prompt. Sometimes I have to wait for him. And though I'd like to think we are exclusive, I may not be his only client.

So here's how it happened.

Seven years ago, I had a dream~a whole series of them. And from them came the seed idea for Dream Walker. I guess you can say Dream Walker is based on a true story. Kooky. I warned you. Anyway, I was thus inspired. I plotted out my novel, developed characters and hammered out about 12,000 words. But inspiration faded and I set my book aside.

Three years ago, I pulled DW out again and tried to breathe some life into her. But I basically just smeared those first 12,000 words around in the word processor and called it editing. Dream Walker did not resuscitate.

Then, just over a year ago, my life fell apart. No, really...it completely fell apart. Everything I held dear, my marriage, my family, my home, my dreams for the future, collapsed into ruin. I became deeply depressed. I lived in my bathtub with a bottle of wine, hoping I would sink. 

One night, in the in-between of sleep and stupor, I heard his voice. Out loud. Yes. Crazy shit right there. But maybe you've heard an unseen voice at some time in your life. When you were driving and looked down at your iPhone and you heard "Look up!" just in time to see that traffic was coming to an abrupt stop. So you know what I mean.

He said, "It's time."

That all. And it was as clear as if he was standing right next to my bed. 

Normally I would have responded with, "Time for what?" Scratch that. Normally I would have responded by screaming some profanity because I heard someone who wasn't really there, then I would have asked, "Time for what?"

But I didn't ask. I already knew.

It was time for me to write my book. In an instant it all flashed into my mind. Only it wasn't the book I started writing 7 years ago. Names had changed. Ages were different. The time frame had shifted. It was my book, but new and fresh, and I got out of bed and started writing it.

Writing Dream Walker has been an intuitive process for me. Maybe it is that way for all writers. It only flows when I get my head out of the way. Rationale does not work...intellect fucks it up. Many times I thought I was going one direction only to be told by the character, that no, they weren't. The story was full of surprises--for me. There were times that my gut seized up with a knowing that everything was wrong with a chapter. I absolutely could not write another word. I would have to completely let that train of thought go so Muse would come and work his magic, lighting the synapses of my brain with epiphany.

Muse isn't just genius about storytelling either. He has also been very insistent about what I should do once the book was written, telling me over and over, "Self-publish." He's whispered marketing ideas and promotion suggestions to me in my sleep. He has pointed me toward workshops, websites and blogs specifically geared toward the independent author. Every time I move in that direction, synchronicities happen.

But my head got in the way.

Yes, I know now is an exciting time to be a writer. The opportunities and services supporting independent authors are abundant and incredible. But my head clings to the old ways. It tries to convince me that the traditional route is the only "legit" path.

Get an agent. Have them find the publisher. Self-publishing is only for people who can't make it any other way. I am a coward, afraid of the dreaded rejection slips! I have to earn my stripes by taking my licks! Amanda Hocking be damned!

Muse and I got in an argument. He left in a huff. Alright, I exaggerate. He just shrugged his shoulders and sulked off.. And I went about checking the boxes on my "traditional" route task list so I could start gathering some rejections slips for the scrapbook.

And my gut froze up. Inspiration and enthusiasm left me when muse did. My soul is not in it. 

I swallowed my pride and said, "Muse. If you can hear me across the dimensions, could you please come back? I think I am on the wrong path with this."

He was by my side right away. Even muses don't want to miss an opportunity to gloat and say, "I told you so." Again, he outlined the plan--the Independent, Self Publishing Plan of Action for Shannan Sinclair and Dream Walker. He knew I was still really apprehensive about committing to this plan, so he sent one of his helpers...an elf, a human elf.

This elf sent me an email last week. He has a friend who has the coveted Agent. And her agent scored her a publisher!!!! Her book is going to be published LEGITIMATELY!!!! His friend holds the Holy Grail of Writer's Success in her hands! Contracts have been signed. Her book will be available to the public! In January 2014.

Yes... you read that shit right. JANUARY 2014! TWO FREAKIN' YEARS AWAY!!!!!!!!!

WTF?

Muse was rolling on the floor laughing his ass off. "Told you so." He couldn't help one last dig.

That sealed the deal for me. Dream Walker is NOT going to be published in 2014. It is going to be published March 1, 2012 or very soon after. It will be available on Nook, Kindle, and Apple--electronically. And for those of you who haven't moved into the 21st century yet, I am figuring out how to kill a couple of trees just for you.

In the coming weeks, you'll be hearing more about Dream Walker's release and how you can help my book go viral! Maybe we can organize one of those Flash Mob things? Or maybe we can invade peoples dreams and seed the idea --"Buy Dream Walker today." That would be bad ass... creepy... but bad ass!

Until next time, remember...

We live in the fiction.

Shannan

Reposted from SHANNANSINCLAIR.COM

First Peek: Dream Walker

Now that the dust has settled in my life, I am back to REALLY finishing my book. The climax and finale chapters are underway as you read this post.

 

Because I am planning to e-publish it - to generate interest - while I search for an agent/publisher, I have also started planning my marketing strategies, designing covers and preparing a web site. 

This whole novel writing endeavor is arduous. Although the idea for the novel came to me almost 7 years ago, I didn't begin truly gestating it until November 1st of last year. By the time I finish, I will have carried this puppy for 9 months. I am fascinated at how the process is almost exactly like being pregnant with children. 

The uncontrollable eating.

The unbearable anxiety.

The sleepless nights.

The heartburn.

The hemorrhoids.

I can't wait for the damn thing to crown!

My beta readers and I have narrowed the book cover design down to the final two choices. I wanted to give all of you a sneak peek and an opportunity to have a say in which one you like the best. It has basically come down to the font.

Dream Walker is a quantum fiction novel about a young woman who unwittingly stumbles into another dimension and witnesses a murder. What she believed was only a dream, she soon discovers is a reality, and she finds herself in danger of being hunted and eliminated by the people in control of The Stratum.

Please leave a comment as to which cover you prefer! Soon, I will be posting some sample chapters to whet your appetite as well!!!!! Fun! Fun!

Namaste,

C H E Z

Book Cover Photo  ©DepositPhotos / Stanislav Perov

Image Transfers

 

I had this dream.

It lasted all night.

I was creating image transfers;

finding images of families, of couples, of dancers, of beautiful people. Some of them were in settings of nature, some at parties, some alone and thoughtful.

I layered them with my brush of gel medium.

One coat.

Another.

Then another.

Until they were frozen in that time and place.

Then I bathed them in a pool of warm water, loosening them from the setting that they had grown comfortable in.

I methodically peeled the setting away from my chosen one.

I trimmed away the remnants of that other place, sometimes removing the people they had been with, then I lay them in a new setting... maybe alone, maybe with new people.

In my dream, I did this over and over, taking my subjects from one life and placing them in another. Did I think the life I created for them was better? Did I ask if they minded?

One of the images before me was a movie. The people were speaking to each other. It wasn't a happy conversation, some kind of dissatisfaction and dissonance. But the woman was beautiful in her anger... powerful... she deserved a better place, one with more harmony.

I layered her with my brush of gel medium. She was like a fly caught in a web. Once captured, I bathed her in my warm pool and extricated her from the discord.

"Where are you taking me," she asked.

"To a better place," I replied.

"But I wasn't done with that other place yet."

 

 Good thing it was only a dream...

...

Namaste,

C H E Z

This Is Today

091110

So hard to leave.... but the road trip to find autumn is this morning!

Namaste,

C H E Z

The Hallucination of the Everyday

Poets, mystics and shamans have always tried to convey that the world of the imagination is a real world... they called it the third kingdom.

When they speak of the third dimension; conscious, physical life, they describe her as Maya or Illusion. She is the hallucination of the everyday.

They speak of Heaven, a place of pure spirit and energy.

And they speak of the inbetween - the third kingdom - the dream space, the imagination.

It is to this Third Kingdom that the aborigines and shamans travel to to access spiritual wisdom and bring it back to this denser space.

It is a place we access in our sleep, in deep meditation or contemplation.

But it is really difficult to find even a sweet 5 minutes for stillness during our living in the hallucination.

I was talking to my mother a few weeks ago. To prepare for a major, back surgery, the doctor told her she had to quit smoking... cold turkey... RIGHT NOW! This was a 20+ year habit, we are talking about. (If I am wrong - I'll get a phone call later ;-).)

It was rough for a few days. Not only because of the withdrawals from the nicotine or even the break from the habit. She experienced a grief around the loss of her friend - the cigarette.

I thought about this and got soooo jealous! I wish I had a friend/habit/addiction that REQUIRED I take 3 minutes every hour or so to STOP my life and savor a still moment!

Maybe we can create a collective habit, call it a Spirit Break, where we all take 5 minutes, every couple of hours, go to a designated place 20 feet away from any buildings, and savor a still moment... Access the Third Kingdom several times a day.

I would venture to say that our happiness/peace quotient will go up, our stress will go down, our productivity will increase, and we would make wiser choices during our hallucination of the everyday.

Can I get a second on that motion?

"Stripping off the garments of the flesh and dancing across the universe in my bare soul."

A self-portrait - LOL!

Namaste,

C H E Z

 

Where for art thou, ART?

I have yet to figure out the ways of creativity or how it flows through me. I am often at a loss.

I have evolved and transitioned in my passions over the years.

At one time in my life, performing was my passion. I craved the theatre, immersing myself in character and story and taking the audience there with me.

Then... it was nothing but song, to channel the rapture of music with my voice.

Another shift ~ and I was channeling poetry. I couldn't focus for all the verses dancing in my head.

And then ~ my soul journals, sixteen thus far! Hundreds of pages filled with colorful visions!

Once consumed by a passion, the former one loses its hold. I cannot believe I ever gave up the theatre. I loved it so much. It was my life! But I have no craving for it now.

The singing! I was sure I wanted to do it forever, but when watching Mattea sing, I wonder where my envy is.

My obsession for my journaling was a serious addiction. I could not go a day without paint on my fingers. Lately, I find myself going several without withdrawals ever setting in.

I am unsettled by this. I feel like I am letting something go that I once loved so much. But it isn't feeding me the same way anymore. It is like saying to a lover, "I love you, but I am not IN LOVE with you."

Yet I still feel creativity roiling within me seeking expression.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of watching Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations", Rome episode. I was overcome with a craving for Italy! A sudden, ravanous desire to create a pasta perfection called Cacio e Pepe! I want to savor a freshly cut wheel of parmesan cheese while I sip red wine!

I realized that there is art in everything!

I could be an artful cook and create that pasta!

I can be an artful traveler and immerse myself in another culture!

I have been devouring books lately. I have 10 books that I am concurrently reading right now. No lie! I am being an artful reader!

As I study and write for my Holistic Theology degree, I am an artful student.

I was an artful mother the days I spent with my daughter in San Francisco.

I am an artful blogger when I craft these little posts.

When I crawl into bed, luxuriate in my sheets, snuggle into my pillow, and find my husbands feet, I am an artful dreamer.

At any time, when we are fully engaged in crafting the living of our lives...

we are artists!

Namaste,

C H E Z

This is.... American Idol!!!

The things we do for our children!

The past two days was dedicated to Mattea's American Idol audition experience. Since they lowered the age limit to 15 she was eligible to audition. The first thing you have to do is get your ticket. First lesson: Go on the first day --- early. We went on the second day --- early. Your ticket is your place in line.

I thought we would wait in line for a ticket for hours... we got up at 3am, drove to San Francisco, paid $30 for a parking spot, went up to the line of 2 people, and got our ticket. Less then 5 minutes! By 7:30 am we were trying to figure out what to do for the rest of the day!

Luckily, it's San Francisco. We ate a good breakfast then went to Cow Hollow to shop and get pedicures. After our toes were looking good we dropped the top on the convertible and drove the Presidio, taking in the Golden Gate at Chrissy Field. Then it was over to Haight Ashbury for some thrift store shopping and people watching. After checking into the hotel, we made our traditional dinner of raw oysters and grilled cheese at the Ferry Building. We were in bed by 8:30pm --- because wake up was at 3!

Lesson #2: Unless you got one of the first tickets, you do not have to be there at 5 am. But we were! Only to be ushered into a parking lot corral to sit on the asphalt for 3 hours. I will not tell you where we got our blanket... but thank GOD we had it!!!!

There were a lot of negatives about the whole thing... but one of the best things was meeting all the people. We steered clear of the crazies - though they were entertaining; the Tranny Granny on roller skates and transformer boy.

We hung out with the real kids with real dreams. Many had driven down from Seattle, or just flew in from LA and Arizona. I really became invested in everyone's success, watching for their turn to see if they got a ticket to the next round.

So we didn't have a great place in "line". We waited 12 HOURS before Mattea got to audition.

There are at least 7,000 people there... you do not go straight to Randy, Kara, and whoever else they have judging now that Paula and Simon are out. You go to 2 television/music producers sitting in a tent.

There are ten tents for this so they can herd all these people through. It can NOT be fun for those "judges". I got to listen to thousands of people, warming up and showing off in the halls. Less than 1% of them have the right combo --- the voice, the looks and the "IT". Those first judges suffer through it all.

You sign a release form, understanding that you may be completely humiliated by the process and it may be on television and if you make it you basically agree that the "producer" owns you.

I have to admit... I wanted Mattea to do well, I want her to be successful... but I want her to own herself. Her being 15 and going into that kind of lifestyle makes me uncomfortable.

There she is... back of the line.... about 5,000 people have gone ahead of her.

Yeah... she's auditioning in 10 minutes, but still has time for the ever important text message. Mattea had the right attitude the WHOLE day. When a bitchy stage mother got all up in our grill about a seat, Mattea said, "I'm not going to wish anybody bad." She found a friend with a ukulele and they toured the stadium serenading the crowd. She smiled, laughed and truly enjoyed herself.

You go up in groups of four. One person steps forward, sings their song for about 20 seconds, they stop them and they step back. The next one goes, then the next. If they like you, they let you sing longer, if they still like you, they ask you to sing another song. At this point so late in the day, if they still like you, they get "THE PRODUCER" - Simon Fuller or Nigel Lythgoe - to come hear you sing, before they give you a ticket to the 2nd level.

In this photo, there is a girl singing, her group lined up behind her. In that group is a brunette in a black shirt with black hair. She had a good voice, a little screechy when she belted it, but nice tone and inflection. She was good-looking... and she had an "it" factor. She went through.

Mattea is in the last group.

Mattea sang "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5. She looked at the judges, she gave them the "it", she NAILED it. They let her sing the first 2 verses, the chorus, and well into the second verse. The male judge even laid his head in his hand a stared at her dreamily. I was in shock!

Then they asked her to sing a second song!

And I think Mattea went into shock.

She quickly decided on "Someone to Watch Over Me." She was so good... so composed, even though I could tell that her pulse was starting to race.

They stopped her after a while, the next people went, and they let them all go with a "There were some great singers in this group, but not right for Season 10."

She didn't get a "Golden Ticket" for American Idol. But Mattea is a Golden Girl to me and all of her friends, family and fans!

Namaste,

C H E Z...... Mattea's Momma ;-)

If you'd like to hear some of Mattea's singing visit her YouTube channel.

 

 

Dreams of Transformation

I have been having deliriously vivid dreams in recent months, as I am sure many of you have had as well.

My family and children have also been recounting their dreams to me and I am amazed at the detail and spiritual messages they are sharing.

I know many of us have been having "destruction" nightmares. I have had dreams of earthquakes and flooding. My daughter had one about huge meteors falling from the sky. A friend shared one about bombings and chemical attacks. Not pleasant at all!

But more often, I am hearing the most inspiring dream experiences. I have had dreams of growing wings and one in which I turned into a being of a radiant light spectrum. My youngest shared a dream where two angels came into her room and told her they were glad she was home.

These dream spaces are so comforting and amazing, I do not want to leave and can't wait to get through the day to see what the next night will bring!

Namaste,

C H E Z