The Mindful Migraine

In 1924 André Breton published his Surrealist Manifesto in which he encouraged artists to use ‘automatic’ or ‘free’ writing, where “the first draft is your last”.  You set your clock for, let’s say two minutes, and then you write, without stopping or overthinking, and definitely no editing.

Here’s my two minutes of typing with only the spelling mistakes fixed later:

“When I think of migraines, I think of a vice that holds my head in place.  I think of an invisible cloud, dark, that hovers over my shoulders.  The cloud is dense like bush fire smoke, it stings my eyes, makes them water, makes my throat choke over, I want to gag.  It is not real.  That is the worst thing of this nightmare.  None of it is real, but I pinch myself and do not wake up.  And yet I feel as if I am always awake.  It is so hard to fall asleep when you are always rocking and rolling on the bedsheets like a boat that is going down.  I am not this dark in real life, I promise, not so dark that I can’t see beauty in the sunset as much as the sunrise.”

And then, just like that, you have a strange little, short story, two minutes in the making.  When you go back to read it you might be surprised, humbled, disappointed, disturbed.  For just a moment the other, deeper, version of yourself pops up to the surface to speak its mind; it’s truth.  It can be cathartic to let your subconscious free. 

What comes forth might not make complete sense.  For example, a vice and a cloud couldn’t be more unalike, making for a stumbling transition.  And how is the cloud invisible then dark?  What precisely is ‘not real’; the pain, or the actuality that the pain is only a strange manifestation of a glitchy brain rather than a specific injury?  I don’t think it really matters.  There’s no right or wrong.

The idea is to write as if no one is reading in the same way that we are supposed to dance as if no one is watching; with reckless abandon and intemperate force.  Handwriting is probably preferable to typing, but if you try that approach, then set the timer longer.  That said, I’ve found that if you leave the timer on for too long, your rational, do-gooder, side of the brain starts interfering with the free flow of ideas.

Have a try and see how you go… or perhaps I should say, see where you go.

Linda x