How to find healing through writing

It began simply enough. A tool to reach someone with whom I had no other means of communicating. That first letter, handwritten, like I was a pioneer woman, perhaps contained 100 words, at most. What followed was an ongoing practice correspondence, albeit one way, but correspondence, nonetheless. Daily letters capturing my feelings and thoughts and through those words, I discovered a love for writing. Because, through writing I was able to communicate that which I often failed to find the words to vocalize. Through writing, I found my voice and surprisingly, healing.

But why writing?

Do you recall writing term papers in high school or college? I was a Political Science major, yes, I know, why??? Going into it, I could not imagine the amount of writing required. Turns out, term papers were the norm. And not one or two pages, it’s as though I slowly compiled my own textbook. Looking back on those years, I realize I was a procrastinator, I’d roll around the ideas in my head for the paper and not put my fingers to the typewriter – yes, I’m old – until days before it was due. I do the same today. Words would flow effortless onto the pages and I’d easily finish it on time, well, on time by college standards.

Unbeknownst to me, or maybe it was obvious if I’d been paying attention, writing was a passion. In recent years, I’ve blogged with hopes of gaining an audience for other work passions I have, but I think more so for myself. Not until I was on the launch team for Allison Fallon’s book The Power of Writing it Down did I fully realize that through writing, we “metabolize our life.” No wonder it hold power in my life.

Healing through writing

Go figure that the skill we’re taught in kindergarten, or preschool if you’re Baby Einstein, could lead to healing. We struggle through those early skills books. Perfecting the art of first print and later cursive so that we can use it later in life. Looking back nearly 50 years ago to my writing curriculum, who would have know that cursive is all but dead – I question if they teach it in school anymore.

Neuroscientists have found that writing increases neural activity in and activates specific, large, regions of the brain – those responsible for thinking, language, healing and working memory. Handwriting can evoke in the brain similar sensations to meditation. The smooth flow of the hand putting pen to paper stimulates the frontal lobe, also responsible for movement, reasoning, judgement, planning, and problem solving. Handwriting also helps our brain develop a stronger learning capacity.

Why we should reclaim the power of writing

My grown children mock me, on the regular, for how slowly I text. Or that I choose to use voice to text more often than they’d like, often with disastrous results. How Siri translates what I’ve said into words I’d never say in writing is a mystery. But then again, she’s always listening. The children of the digital age, which began swinging into full gear in the 80’s, are often introduced to screens, texting, computers at a young age, and they’re losing the benefits of writing by hand. Honestly, even I’ve tapered in recent years. And while typing out these words is cathartic, it’s not the same as time spent with pen to paper.

I say cathartic because that’s what writing is. Truly a way to “metabolize our lives” as Ally shared in her book. Spending time writing without forethought, but simply letting words flow will lead you to unexpected places. In The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, morning pages are introduced. The exercise is to write without stopping for three full pages. And though it will help you become a better writer it’ll also help you clear out the junk that clutters your mind. When adopted on a regular basis, the impact may be surprising.

So, why do I write?

Back to the beginning, in those letters, I found a way to express myself. Honestly, I struggle at times to communicate what I’m thinking or feeling. I have plenty to say when it comes to matters outside myself, such as at work, but in matters of the heart. I become tongue-tied or am unable to grasp the words from my foggy mind. I become flooded with adrenaline in a stress response and unable to think clearly. I know, bananas. And though I work at it, my inner self doesn’t want to rock the boat, leaving me paralyzed.

But writing is freeing, because the words don’t fail me when I’m silent as I speak them. The pathway to communication opens in front of me. And the benefits come, sometimes, as I’ve found, unexpectedly. The truth is, 50% or more of what I write isn’t for human consumption. You’re welcome. It’s purely digesting my life. Sometimes into a journal, and others, into the fire. Hidden, or not so hidden, in each of us are slices of life remaining undigested. Writing is a tool to free us of those parts. And you may say “I’m not a writer,” and the truth is, we’re all writers. I encourage you to use the tool you were taught in kindergarten. Maybe learning to write cursive isn’t a lost skill after all. Use it on your journey.

Be brave my friends. Lisa

A better way to experience the let-down

The fall season often brings back memories of a bike race I’ve done a couple of times, which is now defunct. The Furnace Creek 508 started in Santa Clarita, California and ended in Twentynine Palms, in the eastern Sierra desert. As the name denotes, you travel through Furnace Creek in Death Valley, California, on your way to the finish. It’s what is called a ‘total time’ race meaning all the time spent cycling, eating, resting, visiting nature, was included. The first time around I was on a tandem team of 4 bikes, 8 riders. The second? A two-woman team. Needless to say, the preparation for a 508-mile race, whether you have to ride the entire distance or not, is extensive. And so when it was over, around 28 ½ hours later both times, a gaping hole existed in my schedule. In hindsight, I can see what I experienced was the let-down. And it makes me think. There must be a better way to experience the let-down.

The calm after the storm

We’ve all felt it, the stillness that follows a long-awaited event is a chasm.  To be clear, I’m not talking about the let-down of disappointment. An empty space we’re not quite sure how to fill. You may have felt it after finishing college. I can still remember walking out of my final exam on the U.C. Davis campus in March 1989. Done. But then what? It’s exactly those moments that cause us doubt, or questioning…wondering if something is wrong.

The calm after the storm is the let-down. It’s the exhale that comes at the end of finishing the race, college or a hard-fought goal. Racing to finish a project, killing it, and then having too much time on your hands. The let-down, the emptiness that defines it, can easily feel like depression. I can’t help but wonder if we’re all barreling towards a collective let-down once we start to ease back into our everyday life. We’ve been holding our breath, existing in a sea of anxiety, for nearly all of 2020.

How else could we look at it?

But I think it doesn’t have to be a let-down. What if, instead, we find that we’ve evolved through our experience? You, mom or dad who has a day job, started home schooling your children. You learned Zoom, more importantly, you learned how to mute on Zoom. Your house has never been more organized and you did not know that you had the capacity to bake so.much.bread. You began to enjoy a slower pace, time with your children. Your pets most certainly have enjoyed having you at home. You may have gotten to know yourself that much better because you had the time. And time is a scarce commodity.

I chose Wholehearted as my 2020 word for the year and have spent the past ten months going through Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living. But there are ten versus the twelve months this year. So now what? I wondered if I’d teeter towards a let-down, but instead, I considered what else could be happening.

We’re shifting

While I’d like to say we’re in a state of perpetual motion, that’s not quite true. Perpetual motion is the motion of bodies that continues forever. Apparently, that violates a couple laws of thermodynamics, who knew? But what is true are Newton’s laws of motion. While the first states that something in motion will continue in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed on it.

Could it be that many of us were all in a straight line and the forces of 2020 have changed us?  Or that 2020 was a force that further changed us (because many of us were already shifting)? Let’s suppose that’s true. When life as we know it gets closer to life as we knew it pre-2020, we might feel the let-down, the loosing of the death grip we have on life. But even if we do, we can shift the way we think about it. Consider how much progress you’ve made this year, in unexpected areas. The relationships that have changed. The talents you’ve developed and want to hold on to. We often don’t see those changes because we’re in the middle of it. But I’d suggest if you write down where you were at the end of the year and now, there would be a vast difference in what’s important to you.

And so, being different that I was at the beginning of the year despite or because of the turn of events, I am more at home in myself. I’m on the Wholehearted journey, and yours’ is entirely different because it’s yours alone. But if you become tempted to give in to that feeling of let-down, reflect on what’s in motion and how far you’ve travelled. Be brave my friends.  Lisa