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One of the key distinctions when we write is to recognize our own biases and the inherent limitation of our own perspective, which is by definition almost invisible to us. When we are aware of our inherent limitation of seeing we do not need to defended or delude ourselves that we are free from content, as imaging that we are free from content is a perilous trap of our ego, as it becomes an obstacle to clear and direct seeing of the obvious.

In the process of attempting to make the distinction we need to understand the impersonal nature of the selfing mechanism that facilitate identities.   Our content is always enmeshed in biology, conditioning and socialization, and they act as our filters through which we view the world around us.  Our observations and perceptions of reality will always reflect our own process as to where we are at, at any given point. We are simply the world we write / walk through.

The concepts and conceptual-mental structure we bring, as writers, to the communication process should be preferably transparent, so that the reader can go beyond the concepts. There is a distinction between writing from experiential wholeness and the writing from enmeshed conceptual philosophy.  As a writer, I can choose to bring the reader through a landscape of my conditioning and ideas, or make every attempt to point the reader to the reality to be self-discovered, beyond all and any ideas.

It is clear that the truth of reality never lies in ideas, but always exceeds them. It is always challenging to observe and attempt to distill content to its barest core, and to write something that cuts through the already overwhelming clutter of concepts and perceptions we have accumulated.   

This is especially true when a writer attempts to point to the underlying reality/truth beyond mental and emotional constructs, but it is far from easy to do.  It is a good idea to ask yourself, as a writer,  if you are attempting to write from a direct practical experience, versus writing from an idea that sounds good.  Often, I think we make the mistake that we are dreaming that something is real, because we have been seduced by a beautiful mental and emotional concept,  but we are still dreaming nevertheless?

It is certainly a worthwhile exercise, for any writer, to make every attempt to be clear and to speak directly from experience, but it is pretty much impossible if we can’t see our own profound biases right up and down the whole process, and especially if we can not recognize we are writing from within the dream.  Our use of concepts and language always reveals the process, whatever it may be.

All for consciousplay.