Spiritual Co-Creation: Managing the Comedown

A little while ago I wrote about an experience that still makes me pause and take a deep breath. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience, just…intense. That intense feeling was several weeks of the creative version of the zoomies as I wrote and practiced urban animism related stuff at full throttle. I wrote about the experience here, and came to the conclusion that it was akin to something thinking through me. I felt like a conduit or a white board being used for brainstorming to express a whole bunch of ideas about urban animism. I wrote some interesting stuff during that time, some of it felt like direction for me, but most of it was thoughts and ideas expressing urban animist theory and practice that seemed to want to be be shared. Some of what I’ve written I’ve since posted on various platforms. That time period was all-consuming, distracting, intimate, exhilarating and intense. Thank fuck it didn’t last.

I’ve talked to people and read online how people search for connection with the Others, spirits of any form, for many reasons. I remember early on someone writing on Tumblr about being a God-phone, as in someone who was called upon or used regularly by divine entities for one purpose or another. While being a God-phone didn’t appeal, as such, I remember being a little envious that some people had connection and communication like that.

Writing is glorious, but it ain't all roses

It definitely ain’t all roses though. Those few weeks I found exhilarating - I enjoy learning and connecting ideas, it’s a real trip. But it was almost constant. Interactions with my family suffered, I was vague and distracted and not particularly attentive. My day job was almost completely left behind as my brain simply would not shut the fuck up about anything but the next piece that wanted to be written. When I did write, it almost happened without effort. I was a willing partner, but it often felt it was happening despite my presence. Whatever ‘it’ was. I definitely felt like I was being guided, used or shown things, kind of like showing a young child how to pour water into a funnel - the child laughs with glee as the water pours out the bottom.

The most similar experience I can think of is automatic writing, but this wasn't like that. I was definitely doing the doing, but my brain was the white board and I was just the funnel. Everything else had been cleared away to help me make space to create what needed to be created.

The friend I had originally spoken to about this experience, the one that pointed out that something might be thinking through me (bless them for their insightful but panic-inducing comment), asked me a few days ago what it had felt like. It had felt…good. I was creating, being productive, and getting stuff published on my website.

No,no, my friend said. What did it feel like, not what you output.

Bloody pedant.

I had to think about that for a bit, as I was a bit distracted at the time. Thinking back, I felt calm. Centred, focussed and grounded. Sounds amazing, but if I’d been anymore more centred I’d be telling you I had tunnel (or funnel?) vision. Maybe I did, for a few weeks.

I remember I felt warm, almost constantly. Which is strange for me - it was the start of winter at the time, and I’m always cold in winter. I’m like my mother in that regard, cold hands (warm heart), cold feet, just cold. A cynic might tell me it’s menopause. Although a cynic could well be right, they can fuck right off. It wasn’t hot flushes I was feeling. Just warm.

And I slept really well. The best I have for a long time. Not the sleep of the ill-used servant, driven to the brink of exhaustion. It was comfortable, relaxed, and restful sleep. My past self feels a bit smug about that. Uninterrupted, restful sleep seems more elusive the older I get.

Despite being warm and rested, it was a tough couple of weeks. And part of me is glad it ran itself dry.

A part of me misses it though. The high of creating was amazing, but now I’ve descended from the soaring heights of possible spirit collaboration, I have to admit to managing the come-down. My day job, which I mostly enjoy, feels a little bit emptier than before, meaningless almost. And doubt is creeping in. I was so confident and clear headed when I was writing. Now I’m second guessing myself. Is it all just a load of shit? The core of me knows it isn’t, but I still have to keep pushing the doubt away. And if I’m honest? I feel just a teensy bit lonely. The connection I felt while I was writing was comforting, and now that isn’t there.

So it's a bit shit now it's... well, I shouldn't say 'stopped.' I don’t think it’s that. Apart from the sheer scope of where I want to take my urban animist practice, and the (probably) resulting writing that will come from that, I don’t feel like me and whatever it is/they are that’s ‘helping’ me extend my practice and my thinking is quite finished with me.

So for now, we’ll say ‘paused’. For a week or so, during the ‘pause’ I didn’t want to write anything. Even an email. Needless to say my day-job email inbox is now looking pretty shabby. Part of me is sincerely glad for that - the not-writing part, not the overflowing inbox part. I was writing everyday, thinking new (for me) thoughts, exploring ideas, breaking new ground and making links between ideas like I was on fire (like I said, I was definitely warm). When I wasn’t writing, I wanted to be. I’d get shitty if I was distracted, or had to attend to daily life stuff - cooking, chores, my paid job, hanging out with my husband and dogs. But for the moment, I’ve returned to my usual schedule.

Writing can be a lonely experience

I have a feeling that’s not going to last though. I’ve been in the city a lot the last few weeks, building presence with some of the spirits that reside near my work place. I’ve been exploring other parts of the city that I haven’t been for months, just gently and patiently investigating and exploring in a spiritual sense. Essentially continuing to use all the practices I’ve written about. I’ve really enjoyed the increased intensity in my practice, but that writing itch is starting to come back. And maybe that Other presence too. I'm not sure if I'm ready for round two, but I don't think readiness is really the point. Whatever this is operates on its own timeline, not mine.