How I Write
Tapping into a Stream of Consciousness (Cellular Memory)
There is an interesting story making the rounds about the devastating earthquake and tsunami that struck the Fukushima region of Japan a few years back. The death toll from the magnitude 9.1 quake and subsequent tsunami was around 18,000 and it also caused the meltdown of the Fukushima nuclear facility. It seems that a large rock was found some time ago in the low-lying hills behind the Fukushima harbour…some distance from the shoreline. On the rock was etched, in ancient Japanese characters, the simple words ‘do not build below this point’. Quite profound.
To realize that someone from the distant past, perhaps a group of people – who had probably experience a tsunami for themselves – had the kindness, compassion and foresight to chisel out a few words of wisdom for the unknown generations to come. Obviously few heeded their warning but that’s beside the point…the point being that some unknown person or persons from an ancient time – and who had since disappeared off the face of the Earth – had used the rock face as a medium to communicate the gift of wisdom to future generations of human beings.
In the above story the rock became the medium, the channel, the conduit and could not really be given credit for the wisdom etched into its surface, that wisdom belonging to ancient, long-forgotten voices. In the same way I (and other writers of my ilk) cannot claim credit for the insights and vision that are expressed through these scribblings…because, like the rock, I too am only a medium, a channel. It appears I have reluctantly stumbled head-long into a technique sometimes referred to as ‘tapping into a stream of consciousness’. If this phrase seems a bit vague and ‘new agey’ for some, there is another more scientific term which describes the same process and that is, tapping into one’s cellular memory.
If we could unravel the DNA molecule packed into the nucleus of a single living human cell, the fine cyto-fibre (stretched out) would measure nine feet from end to end. This fine strand (aka double helix) is lined with approximately three billion base chemicals broken down into four elemental groups – anodine, cytocine, guanine and thymine – which, when laid out in a particular sequence, constitutes the genetic code that dictates how that cell is meant to function. The bulk of our DNA is classified as ‘junk’ DNA, having no discernible purpose or influence on the cell’s functioning. But the remainder holds all the information and codification for any given cell’s ‘raison d’etre’ and when combined with the billions of other cells in the human form, allows us to function and exist.
One of the many insights gained from mapping the human genome was a better understanding of the dynamics of memory inherent within each living cell’s genetic infrastructure. For example, by examining and cross-referencing specific ‘markers’ from DNA samples gathered from cultures all over the planet, geneticists were able to identify the common ancestor of all advanced modern humans (Homo sapiens) which turned out to be the San Bushmen of the Kalahari region of modern-day Botswana. So, locked away in our DNA is the memory of events and influences going back at least one-hundred-and-twenty thousand years…and probably longer. There is an abundance of information encoded within the DNA of each cell and all of it is linked, one way or another, to memory. The bulk of that information is related to reproduction, the ongoing operation and maintenance of cells, manufacturing protein and the human body’s ability to adapt to ever-changing environmental conditions. All of these require memory.
Culture is a genetic phenomenon. Over tens and even hundreds of generations global cultures have adapted and acclimatized themselves to the environmental conditions they settled in (after the African diaspora) and this adaptation caused unique variations in physiological characteristics like appearance, colour of skin, body mass, facial shapes, blood type, etc. All of those physical characteristics relied on (cellular) memory because without memory the human body’s unique genetic traits could not be passed on from one generation to the next.
But there is a deeper, more subtle source of genetic information which is encoded in human DNA as well, and that source is the ancient wisdom, the social, environmental and existential ethics practiced – over countless generations – by our distant ancestors. This bounty of wisdom (social, environmental and natural ethics) is communicated to us via cellular memory in the form of subtle voicings, sensations, stirrings, gut feelings, intimations and inspirations emanating from the centre (or heart) of our being.
(Note: Diverse cultures have tried to define this ‘centre’….the English refer to it as their ‘life force’…for the French its ‘Elan Vital’…for the Greeks it’s ‘self’ as in ‘know thyself’…for the Hindu’s it’s ‘prana’…and for the Chinese it’s ‘qi’).
To repeat, the ‘cellular’ wisdom passed down through our genetic bloodline is not communicated to us in the form of words…but feelings. These feelings are what’s being ‘tapped into’ and their power can inspire, counsel and guide cultures, individuals (and even writers) by informing their general worldview, their ethos and a better understanding of the nature of things.
A Blessing or a Curse
There is a rare and peculiar breed of writer (scribe) who is blessed – perhaps cursed – with the uncanny ability to ‘tap into’ this stream of ancestral wisdom, this stream of cellular consciousness. These types are generally referred to as ‘mediums’, ‘channels’ or ‘conduits’ and their craft cannot be learned in conventional education structures (high schools, universities, etc.). There is no logical explanation for this ‘tapping into’ phenomenon – other than the explanation given above – but regardless, the phenomenon appears to hold a peripheral yet respected place in the literary world.
The reason this unconventional (unorthodox) method of writing holds a respected place in the literary arts has a lot to do with the ‘source’ of the scribblings themselves. Conventional methods of writing, (i.e., novels, fiction, biography, historical, science, nature, travel, etc.) originate and are processed through the mental, cerebral faculties inside the human brain and are therefore limited to the functional parameters within those faculties, i.e., ideation, imagination, conceptualization, logic, mathematics, linear thinking, etc.
For writers who initially channel their insights and inspirations by tapping into the subtleties of cellular memory, mental faculties are then used to translate those insights and inspirations into the appropriate vernacular. So, the mental faculties do come into play but they come later on and are considered secondary elements in this rather unorthodox style of writing. For the ‘channeler’, the primary impetus – upon which everything else is predicated – is the ancestral wisdom communicated to the scribe via cellular memory.
What this all boils down to is that the wisdom and insights do not come from the medium…they come through the medium. Which is why writers like myself cannot take credit for whatever snippets of wisdom we scribble down.
Dennis Lakusta
August 16, 2025