What Is the Flying Spaghetti Monster Trying to Say?

Forsooth….

I not inviting the jinx when I say this, but

I rarely have writer’s block. So rarely I should say “never.” Sure, I may slow down at the end of a long day of writing, but fresh springs of inspiration bubble up as soon as the mental pool settles, i.e., moments after I turn off the bedstead light, or while showering the next morning.

On rare occasions — so small as to be measured in quanta and Planck-Time — I do run into a block. Whatever little bit of inspiration I might have sputters out upon picking up the laptop. The laptop then begs that I close it and remain still, awaiting further instructions.

A Pastafarian at work

My Master of Divinity tells me this is the Flying Spaghetti Monster at work.

Fill in your own name for deity here, of course.

There’s something afoot. I need to pay attention. and by golly my laptop will remain as unresponsive as a pouting lover until I figure out what it is. Discernment is what’s needed.

This is where I’ve been since yesterday morning. Only by writing about it am I able to write anything at all. Yet, what is the Universe / my subconscious trying to tell me?Alas, the case is not closed yet on this unfolding mystery. the fact that I’ve got 236 words down here thus far means I’m closer than I was this morning.

What my mystery mastery technique?

1. Sitting quietly, staring at the insides of my eyelids. We’ll call it meditation.
2. Listening more carefully to my thoughts
3. Saying, “I’d like another hint please.”
4. Reading for inspiration as Ralph Waldo did (and then complained about it) — I remembered a book I’d seen while perusing the online stacks a month ago, went back and found it (a minor miracle in itself, since I hadn’t remembered title or author) and downloaded a sample. Sucked me in like quicksand, as if an alternate me wrote it and sent it through the veils.
5. Doing all the physical stuff that writers always complain they do when procrastinating — I was born under a lucky star, because writing is always more fun than cleaning grout. My house is “lived in,” and “authentic” at best, while others’ are elegant. When I graduate witch school, I’ll hope right on creating that self-cleaning kitchen. In the meantime I (plus husband and son) emptied and cleaned our profoundly haunted basement in prep for major structural change down there, shopped for and planted a carload of annuals, folded what must have been 20 loads of clothes, and washed enough dishes by hand to keep the royal family in salad bowls.

I think I’m getting a handle on what the universe is trying to tell me. I need to go an do a little experimentation to be sure.

Now I’m wondering — what do others do when getting an incoming message? What do you do?

Perhaps the Universe / God communicates with others in different, more or perhaps less subtle ways. If so, then what ways does deity speak to you?

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