Time Stands Still

Once in a great while, perhaps more often for some, an inexpressible shift happens in the creative process that reminds you of your fragile everday state, yet reminds you even more of the ability you can have if you allow the force, no matter how terrifying it may be at first, to move. To get to this state, one must put aside his or her ego, stubbornness, pride, and overall self in general. To arrive at this and be able to control it , only to use when it is necessary, must take a far longer time then I've been struggling with it. Possibly, even longer than I've been alive. So how to get to a point, at the very least, where you can become detatched enough for this to happen, if only for the briefest of moments?
A rare, yet always hoped for occurrence took place quite unexpectedly last night. Niles informed me that he found his "black bag" o' chords and cables last night. We decided to set up at the church and try to record something, since that failed last Friday. We at first set out to create something to the degree of what happens on Sunday mornings before the service that always seems to turn out incredible, yet we never have the opportunity to record. As soon as that was established, the possibility of music like that being created seemed less likely, since we spoke of it beforehand. Nevertheless, we began.
There's a level that one reaches which is not attainable unless one sets him or herself aside. The first ground level when attempting to join in the act of music is simply playing what you know. Good results rarely come from this. The second (and very exhilerating) level occurs when one plays what he or she does not know. This is when one gets a glimpes of something greater, but it is passive. The third (from my experience) is detatching oneself from the act in such a way that it is "completely impersonal yet utterly intimate". Conceivably, one can manage to have some level of control over this, but I have not found it yet, so I wont speak of it.
Normally, when I know that little record button has been hit, I tend to flag. This was a rare, and probably the first, occasion that the little button didn't matter. For many minutes we drifted through something that we have often charted before. As it unfolded the construction itself became more apparent and felt easier to stand in front of. I'm not sure how it shifted into something that was so fitting, but it did, and I was in no place to argue. When this shift presents itself, time is suspended. What felt like 2 minutes, yet at the same time felt endless, turned out to be, in real time, around 15 minutes. I would've never guessed. Can't prove the suspension, but it can be experienced.

"There is a necessary freedom within the subordinate parts of the Creation, that the creation might be creative. This is our freedom: that, if we wish, we may co-operate with the unfolding Creation.
This freedom is our right as human beings.
This freedom is also our obligation as human beings.
The price to be paid for this freedom is to honor the obligation.
The reward for honoring this obligation is freedom." -Robert Fripp