You get into it by degrees and in the most natural way but...hmm...
When you are right in the midst of it...you are suddenly astonished and ask yourself how in the world it all came about.
If...for example....you saw a movie few days ago of a storm and forget all about it...
But one night you wake up in your dream and found the same storm...same incidents...same dialogues...with changed faces..in your dream you see yourself...your lost one...
Later you will wake up...perhaps a little less rested than ordinarily...and begin to think about it.
And you want to write about it...you want to write something very nasty about what had just passed and something very bad about your....hmmm.....Maker....
Isn't it strange...what you wrote...is something very different than what you were planing in your mind to write...
On one such morning I sat writing in a dew-drenched diary:
Show me where it hurts,
and every cell in my body burst into tears before His tender eyes.
He has repaid me though for all my suffering in a way I never wanted:
The sun is now in homage to my face,
because it knows I have seen God.
But that was not His payment.
The soul cannot describe His gift.
I just spoke about the sun like that because I like beautiful words,
and because it’s true:
Creation is in homage to use. (Rabia of Basra)