Posted by: balladofyoko | June 6, 2008

Artist’s Way, Week 5

I’ve ran out of room in my old journal, so I went to a nice stationery store and bought a Moleskine notebook to continue writing my morning pages and assignments. I’m not sure what the obsession is all about with Moleskines, but I do like the slimness of it, and how the cover feels. Writing in the pages feels smooth and easy.

Thanks to those who have commented about synchronicity. The reason why I asked was because it was an assignment out of the book. Every week, I’m asked if I’ve experienced any synchronicity. The assumption is that in doing The Artist’s Way, I’m opening myself up to greater sources of creativity and creative abundance, more indications that I’m heading on the right path.

Maybe I’m trying too hard, but I’m just not seeing any. Maybe I’m still so stubbornly blocked and I haven’t let go yet. Maybe it’s my old friend, mercury retrograde. Maybe I’m going on the wrong path. Maybe this program is just not working for me.

For next week on the Way: I confront what money means to me.



  1. I gave a wordy example from the past – but actually am with you now, haven’t had much happen lately. Doing the Artist’s Way has brought some benefits to me yet I don’t feel all afire… just kind of like I’m steadily getting one foot in front of the other. Which is good enough, at the moment. Steady is an achievement for me.

    Come to think of it… the other day… Mike and I were on the bus, and I noticed the lady across from me was reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. I thought, oh, I read that book. Then I saw another woman reading a book, and for some reason really wanted to know what it was, so I watched until she tilted it such that I could see the title – and it was ALSO The Alchemist. I thought, What an odd coincidence! And then, how odd that I went out of my way to look at their book titles to see what they were reading? What are the chances I should do that in the first place, and then that it would be the same book?

    When we got off the bus – Mike said, “you know, TWO people on that bus were reading The Alchemist!”

    Sychronicity is probably like dreams – the more you pay attention to them over time, the more you recognize them and remember them when they happen.

  2. “Synchronicity is probably like dreams – the more you pay attention to them over time, the more you recognize them and remember them when they happen.”

    You may be right there.

    This past week, I’ve had this one dream that I keep forgetting as soon as I wake up. Maybe it’s like sand, too– the harder I try to grasp it, the faster it slips through my fingers.

  3. We humans are hard-wired to see patterns as meaningful, and I think we derive pleasure from perceiving them.

    However, we’re also equipped with all kinds of sensory and cognitive filters to keep from being overwhelmed by stimuli, so I think we’re also prone to sensing patterns that wouldn’t really be there if we were noticing every little thing. Because if we noticed everything that ever happened, we’d be insane or we’d just shut down. Personally, I think that this is what the sensation of synchronicity is–humans assembling patterns and grafting conclusions on to it in the hindsight of a significant event.

    Being in a state to pick out patterns is good for all creative endeavors, including science, but I think in order to do it, the “openness” is actually less seeking “synchronicity” in the sense of how many people perceive it, as “messages” from the universe, than letting go of some of our strong desire to build patterns and meanings… so that the ones that exist outside out desire for them to exist might peep through our “meaning filters”. It’s a method for brushing elbows with the raw material world, a flirtation with a form of perception that is usually impossible for us and would be way too tumultuous and chaotic for us to process if we were capable of always perceiving the world that way.

  4. I love Moleskine notebooks, by the way. There’s just something about the texture of the paper, and I love the elastic band that keeps it shut.


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