FICTIVE SPACE & STORYMIND

In the last post, I illustrated how a word leaps outside one’s conscious intention and becomes a “spark” (or “flirt” to use Mindell’s language). These sparks are ephemeral and unless consciousness attends to them, they are short-lived and disappear. They may recur in dreams in one form or another often without any recognition. In this instance, I described attending to the word “moiling” and the word work I did. This was then followed by a dream which presented me with 9 “unreal” words. It is my habit now in working with my dreams to put the search for “meaning” on hold, keeping interpretation at bay, and doing what is necessary to what I call “entering fictive space.” I try to empty my mind of its busyness and literally face a blank page (a piece of paper or an empty writing space on the computer). If there is any “intention” in this, it is to be fully present in fictive space to what I call “storymind.” The mind functions to produce stories. We live in these stories without a great deal of awareness of the full extent to which this is true. The readiness to produce stories is one of the primary features of fictive space. So in this space, I “wait” for storymind to begin its weaving. This may occur first in an image, or perhaps a word, or a sound, even a smell—it can be anything. I am in no sense “trying” to do something, but concentrating on being receptive to what presents itself. In working with the dream of the nine “unreal” words, what came was seeing a sign with the word “Goiling” on it. Once the fictive space becomes animated in this way, I begin to function something like a scribe, writing out what comes. One of the hallmarks of being in fictive space and with storymind alive, is that the whole process is effortless. Here is what happened.

GOILING

Along a path amidst dense vegetation a sign points to Goiling straight ahead puzzling the young Miss; not the sign nor the pointing but the word there. Must be a town she concluded.

“Hello! Is anyone here?” Seeing no one, she began heading on to Goiling when the silence was broken.

“Anyone left quite a while ago Miss, in search of.”

She looked all about but could not locate the source of this odd utterance. The voice was not threatening so much as strange sounding, as if a muted fog horn was hidden amongst the foliage.

“In search of what?” she countered.

“No my dear, What is just over there. What would never go off in search of.”

She looked around her and could see no one and she said as much a bit louder than intended and with an edge of annoyance she didn’t mean either. But there it was.

“But surely you can see all of us. We are all here except Anyone. Perhaps you are not looking my dear. Looking is quite different than seeing as you must know.”

“I know no such thing!”

“Well, now, that’s a treat to be sure. It isn’t your everyday traveler who knows No Such Thing. It’s because he is constantly moving, not rooted at all. Strange for our kind, you know.”

“And what kind are you then?”

“You’ve eyes, Miss. Perhaps you should use them.”

“What’s your name then?

“No, What’s not my name. My name, should you ever have need of it, is Zoil, after the color of my leaves.”

“Ok, then. Mr. Zoil, thank you for that. But what color is zoil exactly?”

“Zoil is zoil of course. You’ve eyes, as I said, but they don’t seem to be much use to you. Perhaps after the match you will be able to see more clearly. Of course that requires true looking.”

“Match?” She didn’t want to say “what” again as it only seemed to cause trouble.

“Of course, my dear, today is Goiling Day. That’s why the sign is there.”

“You mean you go to Goiling on a particular day, like going to market on Sundays?”

“No, Miss. We all go a-Goiling, not to Goiling.”

“What is Goiling,” she said as exasperated as she felt.

“No, no, no. My dear. What never goes Goiling. What is firmly planted.”

“I do so wish you’d let me see you. All I see are plants, plants everywhere.”

“But my dear, you are seeing us.”

“But plants don’t talk!”

“Ah, after the match, you will know Differently.”

“Differently?”

“Yes, Differently is one of our master teachers; teaches koiling, he does. Come now, you must be off. It’s time it is to go a-Goiling.