There is an awakened consciousness allowed to holler from the rooftops when we engage in the practice of stream-of-consciousness writing. Our most uncelebrated thoughts are given a parade; we hand them the keys to the city; we rename City Hall after them.
To jettison the guards and trappings of calculated thought by putting pen to paper, scribbling down anything that comes to mind—for four straight minutes—is to enhance the understanding of self. No inhibitions. It’s a toxic non-toxic beverage. It’s a physical manifestation of unconscious thoughts.
Albeit, some may not want to unlock that dungeon, others will look forward with giddy excitement at unchaining that garden fence. It can be Limbo or Eden.
We will be none the wiser, though, until we pick up a pen or pencil or put our fingers on that keyboard and begin the pouring into the digital or physical goblets.
I’ve decided to take a sip of my own advice: i will be doing stream of consciousness posts. The first one should be posted along with this.
Get to scribbling—drink up. Tell us how it tasted.