Birth and Creativity

   When my daughter gave birth to her daughter, it was an amazing experience for me. Having had my children in the late 1960s, to not only be allowed to be with my daughter during her labor, but to help in the delivery was unbelievable by the 1960 standards! Everything they do now is so much different than when I had children.

   My daughter was at a birthing center where after the birth they wiped baby off and plopped her on her mother’s tummy where father and mother enjoyed their daughter for a good hour before she was taken to be “cleaned up.” Back in the 60s when babies were born, they were briefly showed to you, and quickly whisked away to the nursery. We stayed in the hospital for 3 days. Now they stay overnight. I think in that one respect we did it better, and I understand there is a lot of discussion about going back to a longer stay because it’s important for the mother and the child.

   I love the participation of the father in today’s birthing process. My son-in-law was my daughter’s coach…he was untiring through the 20 hours of her labor, never slept, and was totally present and supportive. She was a trooper, and we helped during her delivery as her sister video taped the whole process. What a change! 

   Prior to the birth of my granddaughter I was given an assignment from the presence I regard as my inner teacher. Through a series of incidents I was aware that my work was going to change, and that I was supposed to write, but I didn’t know what or how that would come about other than through my newsletter.

   On May 4, 1996 I was looking out at my garden and sipping a cup of tea when the familiar “presence” nudged me. I had just completed reading The Tenth Insight a few days before, and the thought went through my mind that I should write a novel. “I can’t do that!” I retorted. “Yes you can,” it said. “Go upstairs and start writing.” I shook my head. “I don’t do fiction. I have no idea what I’d write about.” The presence was persistent. “Take The Celestine Prophecy to the next level. Follow that format. I will help.”

   I felt excitement welling up inside and decided that if I didn’t like what I wrote, I could throw it away. So I went upstairs and began with an idea that put me in the hills of Los Altos with a dear friend, walking and then going to her home where we would meditate.As I wrote, I had no idea what I’d say, and in the midst of this imaginary meditation I was given the assignment to “find the Holy Grail.”

   My reaction was one of great surprise, and for the next 51 days I followed the leads and directives I was given, writing a book that became a spiritual adventure for the end of the 20th Century, taking the narrator from the bay area to New Mexico, including meetings with remarkable people and ideas. The title appeared, and I was in possession of a manuscript called Vision of the Grail.

   There were days when I slept only 5 hours and worked on the project almost exclusively. It was one of the most rewarding and intense periods of my life, and I told my daughter that I was preparing to birth a work that would coincide with the birth of her daughter…I wanted to have it ready for my grandchild as a legacy.

   The 12-16 hour days of work took their toll on me, and the aftermath was one of trying to recoup my energy. However, the manuscript went out to readers and was returned with valuable feedback and very favorable comments. I engaged in rewriting aspects of it and went in search of a publisher.However, I was later guided that the book must be out by the end of 1996, and that I should self-publish. Egad! Where to start? I found the printer, got everything done, and the book was released to a book store at 1PM on December 31, 1996. I had completed my assignment! (The book was later picked up by a small publisher and re-released in 2001)

   What I recognized in the aftermath of my daughter’s pregnancy and my project is that these major ventures take a great deal from us and return something precious. There is a period after the delivery when we just have to take the time necessary to regain our strength and perspective.

   As my daughter recovered she returned to focus on the present, which was enriched by the presence of someone she cannot imagine living without. As I allowed myself to rest after a very involved process, I returned to my natural enthusiasm, also with a cherished creation that I cannot imagine not having done.

   So our rhythm includes the conception, the growing, the delivery, and the aftermath. We don’t just go on with life as usual when we “birth” children or projects. There is a time to be still after our effort before we set our sights again on activity. That’s not an easily digestible idea in this culture…but it is essential…and it is perfectly natural and absolutely okay!
From Seasons of the Soul 1996