The ‘Higher’ Gremlin
Where God Knows To Find Me
I’ve been thinking about God lately. Not in the big, booming voice from the sky kind of way, but in the quieter, softer ways. The ways that feel like water slipping into the cracks when you’re not paying attention. The ways that arrive when you do something so often, so regularly, that God can finally say: Ah, there you are my little Gremlin.
For me, that place is the desk. Mornings, mostly. Pen in hand, pages open, before the algorithms have had their say. It’s where I seem to be easiest to reach.
In Islam, there’s prayer five times a day. A forehead to the floor is not just a posture, it’s a ritual. It signals: no interruption, something sacred is underway. A habit becomes a portal. A rhythm becomes recognition. And I’ve been wondering, what if that portal isn’t only prayer mats and psalms? What if it’s a DJ behind decks? A gardener pruning back the deadheads? A cook at the stove, tasting for salt?
We talk a lot about finding our flow, but what if it’s not about finding it at all? What if the trick is just to build the habit, the pocket, the small corner where flow knows it’s welcome? Not indulgent. Not fluffy. Sacred. Even if society does its best to disguise it as trivial.
I’ve come to believe that the more we show up to these tiny rituals; morning pages, sketches, sound checks, the more fluent we become in God’s frequency. Not to make something brilliant. Not to go viral. Not to heal the world. But to signal: I’m here. I’m listening. Speak, if you will.
The real magic is in lowering the stakes. Make it about the time, not the outcome. I sketch for twenty minutes, not to make a masterpiece, but to keep the antenna up. I write three pages a day, not because they’re good, but because they’re done. No emotion, no story, just the act. Just the door left ajar.
It’s not about being ready. It’s about being reachable. And that, I’ve found, is more than enough.
From The Factory >
New triptych I’m working on - the narrative, composition and references to how it came about and the loaded question “how do you reference the political climate you’re in?” in this weeks poem cast.
Poem Cast >
Studio Updates
This week, I’m merging a few threads- starting with the practice of simply showing up to paint. Whether it’s in my sketchbook, the studio, or a corner of the world I’ve carved out for myself… it’s about making space.
Prompts >
JOURNAL
Where does God know to find you?
List the places, postures, or habits where you feel most open, most quiet, most connected.
ASK SOMEONE
“What’s the one ritual you have that nobody knows is spiritual?”
CREATIVE ACT
Flirt with the muse.
Wear something just a little too nice for what you’re doing. Light a candle for your email inbox. Read your to-do list like it’s a love letter. The point isn’t productivity, it’s seduction. Remind the muse why she keeps coming back.
Musings >
“The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort toward wholeness.”
- Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, 1980“Show up, show up, show up, and after a while the muse shows up, too.”
- Isabel Allende, Conversations with Isabel Allende, 1999“You pray best when you do not know you are praying.”
- C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, 1964“Routine, in an intelligent man, is a sign of ambition.”
- W.H. Auden, The Dyer’s Hand, 1962
“to keep the antenna up” - I love this!