Personal Essay: Pathway to Clarity, Persuasion and Power

What’s the best way to air your personal views? First get clear on what they are, then write a personal essay!

Write an essay? you ask. Me, write an essay? Surely you joke!

I get that. I’ve spent most of my life thinking the same thing. Like most people, I always thought of essays as noxious English class assignments that fed dry toast to brains. 

That was before personal essay and creative nonfiction came of age. Now I recognize essays as both a tool for getting my thoughts clear and orderly, and also a dimension of story — stories explaining what we think and believe and why. Stories exploring Truth. They interlace nicely with stories about experiences. Most stories are hybrids, with elements of both.

Well-written personal essays sizzle with energy and sometimes humor. They make you think. I know this, because I’ve read a pile of them lately. The ones that spurred this post are blog posts by Kristen Lamb.

Two in particular are so powerful I hope they go viral. Both are calls to action, inciting the nation to get a grip and reclaim our sense of balance and humor. While well-meaning and serving an initial purpose, the Political and Emotional Correctness Police have become Nazis, and who isn’t tired of walking on eggshells all the time? I urge you to read them for yourselves:

Lighten the HELL UP! Combatting the Plague of Self-Importance

Emotional Toughness—How Haters & Hurt Feelings Can Be GOOD for Us

In her essays Kristen mixes observations on the current state of cultural values with personal reflections on how these values affect them and society at large. She begins her first post by citing an article, “Is America Starting To Target Thought Crime?” That article reports on how Michele Obama anointed graduating high schoolers as thought police for their families. Yikes!  Kristen went on to build on the ramifications of that.

Her second post continues the theme. I don't see how anyone who reads Kristen's posts can avoid personal reflection and become more clear on personal thoughts.

I haven’t queried Kristen about the process she used to compile these essay/posts, but I’d bet a dime to a dollar that she learned something along the way. That she was more clear after writing than before.

How does that work? How can you do that? 

A few years ago I invited Sheila Bender, noted personal essay writer and teacher, and author of highly acclaimed Writing and Publishing Personal Essays,  to write a series of three guest posts, “Finding Starts in Personal Essay Writing.” That wheel still rolls smoothly down the road, so I invite you to take a few minutes to read through them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Whether you plan to influence the world or not, do give personal essay writing a try. Take something you often ponder and write about your thoughts and feelings about it. That might be as seemingly simple as the challenges of being short, or something like the current Orlando tragedy. See where it goes. Who knows? You may write something as compelling as Kristen. Or you may just be more clear on your views and able to discuss them more effectively with friends and neighbors.

Points to Ponder: What do you want to be more clear about? What keeps you from sitting down to write? Would it help to write about the fears or reasons for reluctance? They may be the key to unlocking your power. 

I Will Keep Writing

Drawing by Rick S. Hall

Am I the only one with 23 unread books piled on my shelf? Each seemed so urgent when I found it, mostly at the Library’s Used Book Sale. All were titles I’d heard of, and intended to check out, so why not buy? I feel stressed!

Am I the only one unsubscribing like crazy from e-mail lists? Skimming blogs I used to savor? Am I the only one who doesn’t keep up with all 583 Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter friends? I feel stressed!

Now the question arises — if I’m stressed and slowing my reading down, maybe others are too, and I’m still writing this blog — is anyone still reading it? Well, yes. I do check stats now and then and see people stopping by from all over the world, and bless all of you who leave comments.

BUT ... I’m keenly aware this could change. Any day. On a whim. The day really could come when everyone turns off, unplugs, tunes out — for a day, a month. Maybe for good.

So what will we all do when everyone is too stressed out to connect with the amazing always-in-touch tools and toys we own? Will we keep writing? If nobody is reading?

My commitment and suggestion is YES! Definitely. I will keep writing.

I will keep writing because writing makes me feel good.

I will keep writing because writing lubricates my creativity.

I will keep writing because I find out what I really think when I put pen to page.

I will keep writing because writing keeps my blood pressure down and helps me deal with the stress of piles of unread stuff.

I will keep writing because writing is my practice, a form of meditation, a form of prayer. Spirit mixes with ink.

I will keep writing because I’m a writer and that’s what I do. On keyboard or paper, I write.

Who will read what I write? Maybe my descendants. Maybe blog readers. Maybe I’ll post more stories on various sites, or publish another book, or an eBook. Maybe I’ll explore digital publishing.

Or maybe nobody will read another word I write. Does that matter? Do I need reader acclaim to validate my skill? My story? Myself? Most definitely not! First and foremost, I write for me.

But, on balance, I think I’ll continue to blog, to read with groups, and generally hang out and share with writers, because that’s my calling, my mission — to help people discover and use writing to find and heal themselves and build connections. I want to help heal the world, one story at a time.

And, because I learn writing by reading what others write, I will keep reading books and blogs for sure. As soon as I write my stress away.

Write now: jot down your thoughts on why you write. What keeps your fingers moving? How important are readers to you? How important is publication? There are no right or wrong answers, and by writing down your answers to these questions, you’ll surely learn something about your motivations and reasons for writing.

The Tree of Life Writing

The Tree of Life Writing  

Since a picture is worth 1000 words, the picture above should represent about three blog posts worth of insight. I first recognized the interrelationships among the various aspects of life writing over a year ago and included a simpler graphic with a post, The Life Writing Progression, on July 5, 2009.

Sarabelle gifted me with this picture last month while I was preparing material for my Writing for the Health of It class. I’d been thinking about the core Story (capital S) that defines us, and how everything we write grows out of that Story and expresses aspects of it. I was considering how some of our writing is deeply personal and earthy, best left out of sight and unshared. That root writing leads to insight and imparts power to our words and voice as we write publicly visible stories and essays.

When I began pondering the role of memoir in tying together the loose ends of life, and recalled that memoir is composed of the brush strokes of smaller stories, Sarabelle whispered, “You're thinking of a tree.” Sure enough, the image of a tree came clearly to mind. After I studied it a few minutes, she whispered again, "Now, draw it." That advice seemed a bit odd since I don't pretend to be an artist. But I began doodling.

One more element appeared as I worked on the picture. I had not realized that the soil the tree grows in also plays a role. That soil is composed of memories. Our root writing draws nutrients from raw memory, converting them to the empowering energy required for the tree to grow, forming branches and leaves above ground and more roots below.

The longer I think about this tree and the organic wholeness of the life writing process, the more excited I get. We grow individually by writing about our own lives, and we grow collectively as we share stories and provide safe spaces for affirming and supporting each other. As the seasons change and the tree matures, its leaves compost into the soil of memory for future generations, helping life go on.

So there you have it — the Tree of Life Writing. Ponder it and let it speak directly to you as it has to me.

Write now: do some writing practice on the way your life writing fits into this tree concept. Are you limiting it to certain forms? Would your writing and your life benefit from branching out into other forms? Try a form you haven’t explored lately or at all.

1000 Ways to Describe a Feeling

Would you believe there are more than 1000 words and phrases to describe feelings. 1000? That's right. And most are single words. I've compiled a list of that many. The list does not include any metaphors, and undoubtedly there are at least another hundred words not there.

The list has history. It began in June 2007 when I read a blog post that prompted me to ask people to send me lists of emotion labels. Results poured in as friends and readers submitted lists with hundreds of words and phrases. It took a bit of doing to compile them all and eliminate the duplicates. I was fascinated to see how little overlap there was among the various lists. I've since had several classes make lists as an exercise, and the master list continued to grow. Now that it has reached the 1000 mark, it's ready for public consumption. If you think of any words not listed there, please send them to me so it can continue to grow!

You may wonder why it matters to know all these words. Generally speaking, it doesn't. But it's an amazing thing to read over this list and realize the infinite variability of both the English language and our ability to experience nuances of emotion. Reading the list will surely heighten awareness of your internal state, and that's a good thing. Research has shown that labeling emotion calms the brain and helps the stories form that make sense of our experience.

Increased awareness of emotional state will also give you more response options, widen your perspective, and prompt greater levels of personal insight.

As icing on the cake, all those extra words will make you a stronger writer by adding variety and precision to your stories and depth to your perception.

Who can afford to ignore this list? Right-click this link to download the file.

Write now: write a story about an emotional event and use several new words to describe your feelings in exquisite detail.

Working Together to Strengthen Writing Skills

What’s better than sitting in your favorite chair rereading one of your own stories? Sitting in a reading group, reading that story to an appreciative audience!

You’ve probably heard that the #1 fear of Americans is public speaking. If the option had been on the list, I have no doubt that “Reading my own work to a group” would surely be #2, and it might even be #1, because nearly everyone writes their own speech before delivering it.

Toastmasters was officially founded in 1924 by Ralph Smedley to help men improve their ability to effectively speak to groups. The seeds he planted have grown like kudzu, spreading around the world. More than 4,000,000 people, both men and women, have benefited from Toastmasters training, myself included. I recommend it to any writer, even if you never speak to groups. Membership fees are affordable, and the training in organizing your thoughts will help you think and write more clearly!

The key to the success of Toastmaster clubs is the use of peer evaluation. There are no teachers or professionals in Toastmasters, though some clubs have teachers or professional speakers among the members. Although thereare no classes outside club meetings, annual conferences at the area, regional and national levels offer workshops and presentations on honing specific skills. Members take turns evaluating each others speeches, highlighting things they did well as well as one or two points for improvement. Serving in the evaluator role helps members become more discerning listeners, enabling them to learn from the experience of others as well as their own.

Quite sadly, there is no well-oiled national organization available to give writers the same benefit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t experience it. Find or form a writers group in your local area. Find one that emphasizes the positive aspects of a piece as well as giving pointers for improving it. Participate with gusto, always bring a story, ready to read. Remember that the input you receive from others is only their opinion, and that you are free to take their advice or leave it. If you can't find such a group, start one.

Although nothing can beat the pleasure and value of reading your work aloud to a live group, online groups are also valuable. In an online group, you can submit your work and receive written feedback from a number of people, often strangers, Again, look for a supportive group that appreciates your strengths as well as tenderly helping improve your skills. 

Write now: a story about an experience speaking in public. Include plenty of sensory detail, like self-talk, wobbly knees, shaky voice, damp palms. Describe the way your notes shook in your hands. Let readers know how your tummy felt. Then think about reading this story in public, and join the Life Writers Critique Group to shore up your skills.

Hand or Keyboard — Does It Matter?

Flickr photo by SwimParallel

Within the online writing community you’ll find an ongoing discussion of the merits of writing by hand versus keyboard. Virtually all articles and posts are anecdotal, with a conspicuous lack of research. One exception is an intriguing blog interview Joy Castro  held with author and writing teacher Heather Sellers that comes close to supportable evidence. Heather claims that she can tell with near 100% accuracy by reading a student’s work whether it was written by hand or on the computer. “The best work is always written first by hand.”

As I’ve noted several times, I have become a true convert to journaling, on paper, by hand. When I recently had an idea for a focused journal on a specific topic and  wanted to share part or all of it with others, I reached for the keyboard. My attempt failed miserably. After much stumbling, fumbling, and frustration, I turned to my paper journal, and words flowed again. Eventually I realized that I was writing exclusively about feelings, emotions, and inner sensations — heart and gut stuff. That stuff is analog and organic, difficult to transfer to a stiff digital medium.

I became aware of the grandfather clock tick-tocking away across the room. When I’m aware of the clock, the river of time seems to fragment into discrete pixel-like seconds. That seems a metaphor for the way thoughts emerge from my fingers on the keyboard, in click-tocks rather than a free-flowing river. Thoughts spray forth in a wide swath through eight fingers and a thumb onto the keyboard. When I write by hand, my thoughts are forced to converge with laser-like focus into that single point at the end of my pen.

Words written on paper have an earthy, sensual feel. They seem more real, more vital and durable — not quite carved in stone, but worth the effort of recording. Digital words seem are ephemeral, easily poofed off the page, remaining only as long as I approve them.

Letters on the screen are discrete, not touching. They are fragments, pebbles in a pile. Handwritten letters flow together. Even my hybrid of print and script flows, though somewhat jerkily, along a continuous line. That flowing line forms a smoother path for the arrival of new insights. While it is true that more than a few e-mails I’ve sent over the years include some line like “I don’t know where that came from — I’m obviously thinking with my fingers!” I’ve never once been transported to that “Place of great peace beyond all the words” by keyboard writing.

For deeply analytical, insight-seeking writing, I’ll keep that pen firmly in hand! When I want to crank out the words as fast as I think, the keyboard keeps its edge. What a wonderful world we live in, that we have this choice!

Write now: conduct your own experiment to learn where you fly best with each style of writing, paper or keyboard. Google some search terms like “handwriting keyboard” or “benefits of writing by hand” and follow several links. Form your own conclusions.

Mapping My Mind

Remember that resolution I made to complete The Los Alamos Years (working title)? We have an ancient grandfather clock in the living room and this morning it reminded me that the year will fly past in a blur, so it’s time to get my fingers moving.

I began by making a list in my journal of specific features of life in Los Alamos that distinguished it from other places I might have grown up. As the list grew, I saw overlap and interrelationships. Suddenly I realized a MindMap would be a far better way of making these thoughts visible and clear. Clear thoughts lead to clear writing.

MindMeister to the rescue! There are several online mindmapping services that you can use for free. There’s also an opensource off-line one you can download for free, but I haven’t yet explored it. MindMeister is the one I chose today. It’s easy to use, but somewhat limited in formatting options. at least for the free account level.

I did not specifically copy the list from my journal, but used it as a springboard. The map you see below is primitive. I’ll probably move some things around and add far more elements, branching out another layer or two. I’ll add notes. I’ll draw some connector lines. But this is a start, and I share it with you here. 

I find mindmapping ever so useful in getting things out in a way I can see relationships. Chronology is not always the best way to organize and present memories, though ultimately you may use chronology as a thread to link clusters of scenes through the overall story.

Most likely I’ll use the mindmap as a checklist to make sure I incorporate these elements into scenes one place or another within the overall story to convey a strong sense of place, time and culture. A few are story seeds, but most are descriptive elements.

If you want to experiment with mindmapping, you can go online, or do it on the biggest piece of paper you can find. Since I tend to run out of space for some topics, I’m partial to digital mindmaps, at least to begin, so I can move branches around, and I’m not limited by paper size.

The best way to master mindmaps is to start making them. They will especially appeal to intuitive, “right brained” people, who will instinctively understand them. If you want more detailed guidance, I discuss mindmapping in The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, and one of my all-time favorite resources on this topic is Joyce Wycoff’s classic book, Transformation Thinking. Joyce encourages people to use markers, draw pictures, and otherwise make their maps visually appealing.

Write now: try your hand at a small mindmap, online with MindMeister or on a sheet of paper. You may be amazed at what comes to mind, and the interconnections you find.

Our Own Worst Enemy

An ailing friend was moaning to me the other day about the fact that having flu the week before Christmas means that she may not get all her baking done.

“So what? Just forget it. Life goes on. Everyone will understand. Besides, how many of you really need desert anyway?”

“Oh, yes, they do need it on Christmas. I’ll really hear about it I don’t come through.”

Later on I thought about that conversation. It’s so easy to hear other angles to someone else’s thoughts. I had an evil idea and sent her a tongue-in-cheek email detailing several possible journal entries that might wreck her karma if she doesn’t leap out of bed and whip up a figgy pudding, along with 80 dozen cookies.

Here’s a hypothetical journal entry from her adult son:

I know I should spend more time worrying about Mom. She's really trying to do so much, and the fact that she didn't manage to rise from her sickbed and do her usual baking is a terrible sign. Well, she's obviously starting to slip. That just isn't like her. In the past, it didn't matter what was going on, or how sick she got, she always came through for us. But hey, she'll be one hundred in a few decades, so I guess it's normal that she's slowing down. Still, why couldn't she wait and get sick some other week, and not when it was Christmas. The whole dinner was pretty much a wreck because we didn't have pudding and cookies to fill in around the edges.

“You are wicked,” she informed me after she read it. “Wicked, and right on target. I can be my own worst enemy.” She went on to tell me she had already come to the conclusion that a new waistline-friendly tradition may begin this year. “But if I hadn’t already decided, you might have convinced me, which is surely what you had on your devious little mind.”

Guilty as charged.

The next morning I paused while writing in my journal, remembering that email. It occurred to me that if wildly burlesque treatment of someone else’s foibles works so well to unmask them, perhaps it would work to use it on myself. I thought of a particular rock wall I’ve been beating my head against the past few days and turned my pen over to the control of a couple of inner “life” critics. They really let loose.

It worked. I ended up laughing at myself and the whole situation. My mind settled down, and I found some possibilities I had been overlooking. I felt cheerful again, even though I still haven’t solved the problems.

Journaling and humor make a powerful combination. I highly recommend it.

Write now: sit down with a cup of tea or beverage of your choice and spend ten minutes giving voice to one or more of the voices causing you stress this season. Let them mock and jeer and tear away. Exaggerate. Blow things out of proportion. Let them do their very worst and carry on until they run out of steam. You may be surprised how quickly that happens and how light you feel afterward.

What's the Lesson Here?

 Light Chaos by Kevin Dooley

I don’t know if it’s the magnetic forces building as we slide into the core of the Milky Way, or maybe I'm wearing a sign on my virtual back that says “Trash My ’Puter” or something like that. My desktop machine (Hotshot) has lost the ability to record sound (think “Podcast Impossible”). Jack, my middle-aged ’Puter Wizard, is in the midst of finals week, and doesn’t want to hear my whining, or even take my money. He does his best to keep me self-empowered anyway. He assures me the sound card does work, so it's a Windows thing, and I “just” need to do a clean install and rebuild the system.

“NO!” I yell into the phone. “NOT THAT!” I have, oh, maybe 120 programs installed — true, half can be dumped — but it takes days to rebuild my system.

“Deal with it,” he tells me, in much kinder words.

Adding insult to injury, last night I discovered my laptop no longer recognizes our home network. The CMU wireless network I connected to Tuesday afternoon fried this function, and I can’t connect to the hard drive on Hotshot where I store all my files. This has happened before, and I’ve always relied on System Restore to make things right. System Restore has let me down. It looks as if a fresh installation of Vista is in the cards for the laptop. This system is less complicated and will only take one day. It's been acting wiggy anyway.

How’s a person supposed to find time to write?

After a quick test for compatibility and further consultation with Wizard Jack, I've resolved to replace Hotshot’s aging XP brain with Windows 7. I have to reformat and rebuild her anyway, and this should extend her life another couple of years. So add learning a new operating system to this mix I just described.

In case life weren't already exciting enough, my hubby just ordered parts for Jack to build him a new system (and I know who is going to end up holding whose hand while he installs his favorite apps), and the ophthalmologist who was scheduled to perform cataract surgery on my eyes in less than two  weeks just decided to hand me off to “someone better qualified” which will result in an additional delay of around two months. My head is spinning.

I seriously consider zipping up my down-lined red parka (red will fend off the deer hunters slipping through the woods just now) and going out to sit on a stump under our tri-centenarian oak, sucking my thumb, chanting, and rocking until I turn numb from the cold and . . . 

Wait! Sarabelle is saving me from myself. She just started a banner scrolling through my mind: What’s the message here? What are you supposed to learn? What’s the story? Ah, yes! The message. The story. Am I living my beliefs to the hilt? What sort of messages am I showering myself with? What would I like to have happen as a result of this craziness? These questions sent me scampering for my journal.

This is the true value of life writing: to write my heart out in times like this, to get these thoughts on the page where I can see them and work with them, and defuse their ability to sting and cause chaos. And in the process I’m certain to discover amazing ideas and answers.

Write now: make a list of questions you’d like to have answered about an area of chaos in your life — past, present or future. Use those questions as journaling prompts, then write a short essay about what you hope and expect to see happen.

Your Own Magic Crystal Ball

Imagine that you have a magic crystal ball that sees the past as well as the future, able to change the shape and color of events. The other day I was blessed with such an experience, though the ball was nowhere to be found.

It happened in the early morning as I wrote in my journal. As my coffee began to kick in and my fingers limbered, I began writing about a person from my school years, someone I’ve always believed “made my life miserable.” I’ve even been known to claim (only partly in jest) that said person “ruined my life.” Suddenly I dropped my pencil as a voice in my head blurted out a startling message:

She didn’t ruin your life. She didn’t even make you miserable. If anything ruined your life, it was the way you compared yourself to her and came up short in your own view. Plus the way she had a few people skills you hadn’t yet learned. But that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with you. Besides, was your life really ruined, or simply nudged around an inevitable corner?

You know that feeling, that great big, whack on the side of the head “DUH!” moment? I had one of those moments. Had anyone been watching, I would have been the classic image of shock. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened. I simultaneously felt a surge of energized excitement and a wave of relaxation. My shoulders dropped as if a huge load had lifted, and I sank deeply into my chair. “Wow!” I said, in a loud whisper so as not to awaken my still-slumbering spouse. “Wow!” What other word would do?

With that thunderous insight, whole chapters of my life flipped into a new configuration as quickly as if I’d clicked on “re-sort,” and my understanding of the peculiar relationship I’d had with this classmate flipped 180º. Suddenly all was very right with my world — or I should say even more right. I knew more certainly than ever that everything in my life has happened specifically to bring me to here, to now, and that’s a very good thing. Some would say healing occurred. Perhaps. I call it growth in understanding.

Would I have come to this understanding without my journaling practice? Maybe. Would I have thought of this if I didn’t spend time writing stories about my life? Could be. One can never be fully certain of things like this. Obviously sages through the ages have acquired great wisdom through mediums other than writing, but there is no question that the  discipline of journaling and related forms of life writing will increase the odds.

This discovery is not something I had consciously sought. For over half a century I had taken that relationship and analysis for granted. Why change the story now? That is indeed magic. It’s a blessing, and although I didn’t seek it, I did set the stage by sitting here, day after day, with my hand moving a pencil across the page. Without question, writing about the person opened this door.

If I could give everyone in the world a gift, I would give them a journal with an endless supply of pages, a pencil with a perpetual point, and the desire to write.

Write now: about a pesky relationship from your past. Do it as freewriting, leaving your mind open to the possibility that you may have something to learn. But don’t do it with expectations — just hang loose and see where it goes. At the very least, you’ll have the makings of a story on that topic if you want to continue writing about it.

Layers of Life

The onion is often used as a metaphor for self-discovery. I first heard it used that way in 1979 during a conversation with a social worker. “Just as I think I finally know the essence of who I am, I discover another layer. It's like peeling another layer from on onion.”

I’ve often pondered this metaphor through the years, considering that at the center of the onion, there is nothing but . . . more onion. Is that all there is? I wonder. Just more onion? More “me”?

A small matroyshka doll sitting on a shelf in my office recently caught my eye. I bought a bag of them from a street vendor in St. Petersburg a few years ago, and haven’t paid much attention since. I picked the doll up and gently twisted her open, removing the smaller one, and another, and . . . five dolls in all, the center one about the size of a dried pinto bean.

Now that’s a better metaphor, I thought. Each doll is similar to the one it nests inside, but each also has a distinct personality. There is something new to discover as I continue to open the dolls.

Whether you think in terms of onion, matroyshka dolls, or some other metaphor, I encourage you to explore the colorfully complex layers of your life and memories.

There is no magic formula for this. The best way I have found is to ask myself questions as I write in my journal.

Typical questions are “What does this mean?” and “What else could it mean?” Or, “How do I feel about that?” Or, “What can I learn from this?” Keep asking this sort of question until you run out of answers. You’ll be amazed at the thoughts that spring to mind! The process works especially well when you follow the freewriting guidelines: keep your hand moving and never let your pen or pencil leave the page.

This intuitive exercise has at least two layers of benefits. First, you’ll make fascinating discoveries about how you think, and what you believe is True. Your thinking and understanding will become more clear, and you’ll also get juicy material for your stories.

Just one caveat: if your Inner Critic tries to intervene, send her to her room. Don't let her deter you from following this trail through to the end.

Write now: grab your journal, some scratch paper, or you keyboard and write about a memory, preferably a succulent one that still puzzles you. Use one or more of the questions above to explore the situation in depth, striving to uncover several layers of thought about the matter.

Dare to be YOU!

What the heck has happened?Why am I having so much trouble writing? I asked myself these questions as I wrote in my journal this morning. In recent weeks I have noticed my writing has begun to feel stale and forced, lacking the joy I usually feel. Sarabelle has been conspicuously absent and I’ve been feeling boxed in, pressured.

As the answers flowed from my heart into my fingers, I discovered the reason. I’ve been trying to force my writing and even more so my workshop content into conformance with the examples of others. Not the expectations of others, but my own expectations of what people want to read and how they want to learn, and those expectations have been based on how other successful people are doing things. I also admit there was a tad bit of competition in there, and fear of being left in the dust. These emotions spring from my Inner Critic do not foster creativity and growth!

Before I write another word, I must emphasize that as Herm pointed out in a recent post, learning from Other People’s Examples and Experience is a brilliant way to avoid traps yourself. It’s well worth the effort to study what others have done and analyze what makes it work (or not), applying the results to your own work. However, beware lest you fall into the trap of imitation, the sincerest form of flattery, but a most insincere way of writing.

Posing questions and then beginning to write without thought or predetermination is a powerful way of gaining insight, and the technique came through for me like a magic wand. I quickly reconnected with my core identity of Explorer, one I’ve been aware of for years. I am an adventurer. I delight in discovering new places and ways of thinking and making connections between people and ideas from various sources. I take joy in finding new ways of doing things and overcoming obstacles. I love writing reports of my findings. I enjoy pushing my own limits and helping others do the same.

Formulas and detailed maps don’t work for Explorers. We must find our own way, sometimes using the latest technology and other times falling back on the basics, (like walking, chopping wood for a fire, or writing with pencil and paper). We read the situation and do what’s called for. We shun routine maintenance. We focus on climbing the current hill.

This thought-full re-vision rekindled my passion for the memoir I’m working on, and reminded me that I must avoid the trap of hammering my course content into someone else’s mold. That’s the surest way to bore students and stifle real learning.

So, I discovered that I do dare to be ME — my own unique, juicy, creative self . I don’t want to be responsible for running an empire with all the schedule anchors and promotion that involves; I want to travel light and write and teach footloose and fancy free. I invite you to learn from my experience, and dare to be YOU! Live and write your life your way.

Write now: pick up your journal or a handful of blank paper and write a burning question at the top. This question can be about your writing or anything else that’s puzzling you. Then free your mind of preconceptions and expectations and let the answer flow from your heart into your fingers.

Draconian Measures

Turn off the Internet. Unsubscribe from all your mailing lists (well, okay, you can keep the one or two most meaningful). Close your e-mail window and only check e-mail once or twice a day.

These draconian measures appeared on a list of advice for writers who were having trouble getting to their writing.

Are you one of those people? Have you ever kept meaning to sit down and write and then realized that days or weeks had gone by without having touched paper or opened your story file? And it seemed like just yesterday that you ...

If you haven’t had that problem, please get in touch with me and tell me how you do it. You are probably a professional writer who makes a living by tapping on your keyboard and have deadlines to meet.

Most life writers and memoirists are not in that situation. Neither is this blogger. It’s not that I haven’t been writing. Indeed, I’ve written dozens of e-mails, many dozens. I’ve written program descriptions and course materials and written Morning Pages nearly every day. I’ve written meeting minutes.

But alas! My blog and my memoir-in-progress are sadly behind schedule.

So what’s a person to do? What if you’ve been to your last two writing group sessions empty-handed, vowing to have something to read by the next one and that’s tomorrow? The advice at the top of this column is a good place to start. Those seductive web links are one of the most potent time traps ever devised. (Of course you should always click on any link to this blog!)

Another thing that helps me refocus when I’m overwhelmed or blocked is to take some time — a couple of hours or a day — and clean my office. Maybe I need to take a couple of days and clean the whole house. I simply cannot think clearly when I’m surrounded by an abundance of clutter. Clutter tolerance is a very personal thing. Mine is low. That does not mean I’m a tidy, orderly person. Au contraire. But I do need to stop and deal with it now and then.

But bottom line is that when we get behind, when we miss self-imposed deadlines, we need to get back in our chair and get our fingers moving, ASAP. Write something, anything, just write. Now. And refocus on why you are writing in the first place. The important things in our lives always get done, so remind yourself why writing is important.

Write now: a journal entry or story about why your writing matters — you to, and or to others.

Don’t Fall into the Perfection Trap

Patrick has been working on the same story for three months now, rearranging words, adding a few lines, deleting others, and revising descriptions. “I can’t write anything else until this one is perfect,” he explains to his writing group.

If you are walking in Patrick’s shoes, remember, it’s super to have a polished, perfect story, but your descendants would rather have piles of drafts than half a dozen jewels. Even if you are working on a piece for publication, there’s a point beyond which you are unlikely to add value by obsessing. Start a new file and move on to escape the Perfection Trap.

Maryanne hasn’t written anything at all for several weeks, but keeps coming to group meetings, “Because I know if I don’t come, I’ll never get around to writing again.” Privately, Maryanne admits that when she thinks about sitting down to write, twenty-nine things seem more urgent. She’s beginning to realize that she just doesn’t feel like her stories measure up to her own standards or the work she hears others reading.

To all the Maryannes in the world (and your numbers are legion): There is no wrong way to write. Your story is as personal as your fingerprint. Revel in your uniqueness. Celebrate yourself. Let your words flow onto paper with as much abandon as they flow forth in conversation, and be pleased that they will reflect your warm and loving heart and personality.

If typing your story seems overwhelming, write with pen, write with pencil, write with crayons or markers. When it comes to writing lifestories, quality is good, quantity is better, anything is better than nothing, and it doesn't matter how the words get onto paper.

Have a talk with your Inner Critic and explain that your usual standards of excellence are to be held in abeyance, at least for now. Yes, you want to do a good job, but any lifestory you write (no matter how rough and crude) is better than writing nothing. So crank out those drafts (put “draft copy” at the top if it will make you feel better), edit as you get a chance — without obsessing over it, and watch that story legacy grow.

Write now: a journal entry or personal essay about your attitude toward perfection in your writing.

Stick Up For Your Truth

Shortly after the last post about Truth, a reader, we’ll call her Jackie, sent me an e-mail about a memory. The way she remembers things, she paid for half the cost of her first bicycle, a blue Schwinn. In a conversation with her mother some years ago, she mentioned this memory.

“I don’t know why you think that!” snapped her mom. “Your father and I bought you that bicycle for your birthday, and you certainly didn’t help pay for it! What on earth gave you that idea?” For the sake of peace, and because Jackie suddenly doubted her own memory, she deferred to her mother’s version — as usual.

“I still remember it the original way. I don’t know why I let her talk me out of believing in my own memory,” she wrote.

This story has several implications. First, Jackie’s original memory persists in spite of the challenge. That’s a sign it’s probably valid. In any case, it’s her memory, and it’s important to honor your memories, and not allow anyone to talk you out of them against your sense of truth. She doesn’t have to mind-wrestle her mother to reclaim her memory. All she has to do is give herself permission to believe in her own truth.

Assuming Jackie is correct, and that she did pay for part of the bike, how could her mother’s account be so different?

The answer may lie in a phenomenon psychologists call cognitive dissonance. According to Changing Minds.org, cognitive dissonance is “the feeling of uncomfortable tension which comes from holding two conflicting thoughts in the mind at the same time.” The need to resolve this tension often affects the way memories are formed or stored, and the way they are eventually recalled.

Let’s assume Jackie’s mom had a deep-seated need to be recognized as a “Good Mother.” The memory of that bicycle gift may have lain dormant for years — such gifts are usually more poignant to the child than the parent. When Jackie reminded her of it, cognitive dissonance may have shaped the emerging memory on the fly to support her Good Mother self-image. (Do Good Mothers make their kids chip in on their own birthday gifts?)

Why would she insist Jackie was wrong and had to change her own memory instead of just letting it go? This would be a good question for Jackie to pose to herself in her journal, listening closely to what her "inner voice" tells her. If Jackie scans her memory for other evidence of Mom’s attempts at mind control, she may gain deeper insight into her mother’s way of dealing with life and people, their relationship, and her own way of dealing with conflict.

Rather than further armchair analysis and speculation, I’ll leave you with a suggestion that you put on your detective hat and look for possible sources of discrepant memories. I cover other possible causes in my essay, Mayhem at Camp RYLA that may help you uncover clues. You may discover that your memory has evolved over time, or you may find fascinating insights into other people’s minds. Whatever the outcome, let your curiosity drive you to greater insight and understanding rather than anger.

And then write your story, your way. Gently and respectfully suggest that she write her own version.

Write now: about a memory that has evolved over time. How and why did it change? Or write about conflict with a parent and how you responded.

Focus

This is my second attempt at writing a blog post today. I intended to write about the insight I discovered as I wrote my Morning Pages. But as I began writing about “wild writing” or writing as a child does, I got sidetracked into a dissertation on Julia Cameron, originator of the Morning Pages process, and that spun off into a long list of her books.

Before long I had filled a page with blather that wouldn’t do Julia credit even as a catalog page and I had barely touched on the idea of ... I’d lost track of what I set out to do. I remembered wild writing and tried to get back to that, but the moment was lost.

Anyone who writes life stories is bound to run into this same problem. You begin writing about an event in your life, or a memory, and instead of talking about the taste of the turkey and what it meant to you, you’ve filled pages with descriptions of the family china, how Uncle Mark twitched his mustache when he laughed. and how that rotten cousin Tommy always set you up to get blamed for his stunts.

It’s not that the other material isn’t good and valuable, but the clutter obscures your point about the taste of the turkey. You need to crop this story, weed out the clutter, and keep the focus on the turkey. You may end up with a very short story, perhaps no more than a paragraph, but if that tiny story makes your point clear, it has achieved its purpose. More words do not a better story make.

With a little thought, you focus the story to begin with by clearly defining what you intend to write about before you start. Run through your message in your mind.Pick up an imaginary phone and explain this idea to a friend. With that clear mental image, you’ll find it easier to stick to the topic.

But you don’t always know at the outset what is important in a story. You may begin to write about one thing, and find the story is something else entirely. When you produce a rambling page, as I did this morning, ask yourself, “What is the story here? What’s the point?” Once you know what the point is, you can clear the clutter and sharpen the focus.

In my case, although I began writing about wild writing and escaping the Inner Censor, the more compelling story is about focus. I’ll get back to wild writing another day, and I’ll also write about Julia Cameron and Morning Pages another day.

Write now: about the difference in the way you feel when you are writing in focus and rambling. What makes the difference for you? State of mind? Distractions? Ambivalence? See where your writing takes you.

Don't You Just Hate it When . . .

Don't you just hate when everything blurs together? When your stories run together, and memories fuzz up? The other day I read that something has changed in the basic vibrational level of Earth. It's vibrating much faster than it did even twenty years ago, and the fact that time seems to pass faster than ever is not a figment of our imagination. Time actually is passing faster. The source that I was reading was not one I'm inclined to rely on, so who knows, but most people report feeling this is so.

Blurring definitely happens with stories. Earlier last week I sent an e-mail to my daughter with a story about something that happened sixteen years ago. The story involved a person I was working with at the time. We started discussing the story and the circumstances around it, and the people in that group. Although she was in college at the time and we spent little time together, her memory of my thoughts on matters back then was surprisingly sharp and a bit different from my own. As I think about it, I suspect that hers is the more accurate.

This brings up two points you can use in writing your stories. First, if you start keeping a journal, you'll have that to refer back to later for more accurate recall about feelings, opinions, and such things. Second, it's fine to ask others what they remember about the situation, but it will be your call what to accept and what to leave on the sidelines.

In this case, total accuracy is not important in telling the story, but in assessing my own feelings and digesting some quirks in the story, her slant pops things into sharper focus. If you are writing for self-discovery and healing, these other points of view may be especially valuable.

Write now: about a fuzzy memory you have that you shared with someone else at the time who is currently available for consultation. Relax and try to recall enough to flesh the memory out as well as you can. Then share your story with the other person and note any discrepancies. How were they different? Did you learn anything that prompted you to change your story?

or

Write an essay on your changing perception of time through the years.

The Job From Hell

Once upon a time I had what I still refer to as The Job From Hell. I meticulously documented the details of the pervasive insanity I dealt with on a daily basis from my own management and the internal clients we served. As time went on, I observed that the whole organization exhibited aberrations identical to those of dysfunctional families. All of this is recorded in notes, ranting journal entries, and e-mail exposés that I squirreled away, with the thought of eventually writing a memoir of the experience. Within less than a year, I quit.

Over the intervening years I have periodically looked at some of those notes, and thought of the situations I faced. Eventually a strange thing happened as I replayed those memories. They began to shift. I began to toy with them, looking at them with additional insight. I began thinking in “What if” mode. What if I’d taken more time to consider my manager’s whole situation? What if I’d handled this other difficult person a bit differently? What if I’d had more compassion?

As I asked these questions, I began to see more clearly what I’d always known on some level: I was an active participant in these circumstances, not a passive victim. My own decisions and actions produced consequences. That is not said to exonerate the villains, but to acknowledge that I could have handled some things better on my part. I’ve come to see that I was doing the best I knew how at the time, and that (God forbid!) should I ever have occasion to repeat the experience, I’d handle it rather differently. Likewise, those villains were doing the best they knew how. I never did believe that any of them had evil intentions. We were all laboring within a corporate culture that had somehow sold its soul to the devil.

When I originally thought of writing about that experience, I was thinking in terms of self-vindication, of revealing the evil inherent in that corrupt system, and ... seeking revenge. There may still be some purpose to be served by exposing manipulation tactics identical to brainwashing techniques. This corporate culture has certainly not disappeared. But, quite frankly, I don’t have the energy or inclination to tackle that, and vengeful writing has a way of backfiring.

No, if I write about it at all, it will be to convey some of the insight I’ve developed over the years. I can explain that more forthright discussion with my manager probably would have worked out better than the basically passive/aggressive tactics I indulged in (of course I never saw them as such at the time). I may examine the forces coming to bear on managers as each strove to salute and deliver according to mandates from above. I will certainly explore the pervasive culture of fear, and the resulting epidemic of heart dis-ease.

I did write about this at the time, while the story was fresh, the wounds raw and oozing, and my mind cluttered with angry debris, but I never compiled it into documentary form. I’m glad of that. I would not want such a digest of self-righteous condemnation to be my lasting legacy to my heirs. In my opinion, it will be far better to leave a legacy of personal peace, forgiveness and understanding. Far better to leave an example of growth and compassion rather than anger. Such a story can only be written after enough time has passed for the wounds to heal and allow me to view the situation with a clear mind as yet one more of life’s learning experiences — which it most certainly was!

To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
...
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Likewise, there is a time to write privately and a time to disclose. Fine words, like fine wine, will improve with age.

Write now: about a time of tribulation and testing you have faced, whether at work or elsewhere. If this is still raw and painful, file it away without sharing and revisit it in several years. Do some free writing about the incidents to explore new angles. If you have already developed insight worth sharing, polish it up and send it around.

Braided Threads of Life

Back in 1978 my mother was visiting for a few days. One morning as she sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast, she began to muse. “I don't know what I want to be when I grow up,” she said. “I've been a mother, a secretary, a teacher, a shoemaker, a milliner, a seamstress ...” she paused for breath. “I don't know what to be next.”

As things turned out, she became a multi-media artist in the pre-computer-age definition of multi-media, meaning water color, oil and acrylic paints; stained, etched, sandblasted and shaped glass; photography, batik and various other fiber arts; and I  probably missed a few. She once had a one-woman show of pieces all based on a photograph of a wasp on a flower that my father had taken. She rendered that wasp in stained glass, batik, various cloth treatments, paints ... you name it, she did it.

Thinking over my mother's life a dozen years later, I remembered that breakfast table conversation and realized how rich and varied her life was. It occurred to me that there were many strands or threads running through it that peeked out at various times, without being obvious every day.

I was sorting through my yarn basket as I thought about this. Yarn of every color in the rainbow caught my eye and inspiration hit. Using pieces of primary colors, I wove a long, seven-strand braid. Still doodling, I doubled the ends back on the middle and wove the braid into a braid-of-braids.

Her birthday was near at hand, so I mounted the finished braid on a sheet of paper, with mat board behind and this poem alongside:

This is your life.
It is woven of many
strands, each representing a
different aspect of
your experience.
They are closely
interconnected.
Sometimes they
double back on
themselves. The
total effect is
color-full and
intriguing in its
complexity.

That card sat on her desk for years. Today it hangs on my wall, not just because it reminds me of her, but as a reminder that all our lives are composed of many braided threads. We all have work, family, friends, things we do for fun, spiritual beliefs of one sort or another, memories we'd rather forget, things we've learned, and so on. A complete life story will include at least a glimpse of each of those threads.

I've begun looking at my life, thinking in terms of threads, and making notes about how each manifests. When was it most dominant? What memories connect to this thread? Many of the stories I've already written relate to several threads. Others may point to a new thread I hadn't thought of.

Life is never as simple and neatly organized as this braid, but the braid does provide and example of one way to look at it.

Conversation with a candle

Most of us have memories we’d rather forget, but forgetting isn’t an option. Writing about the situation often pulls the plug on the power these memories have on your mind, but it takes a lot of time to write, and you may not want to run the risk of having your words discovered.

Take heart. Take hope. And talk, if only to a candle.

A candle as therapist? No, I have not lost my mind. Quite the contrary, I think I found it. I recently wrote a post about reading Paulo Coelho’s book The Zahir, and the importance he places on telling stories as a preliminary to becoming more loving. Although this injunction intuitively rings true, he doesn’t give directions on how to go about it.

Coelho’s first book of note was The Alchemist, published in English in 1994, and I must be the last person on the planet to read this book. Aside from selling millions of copies, it is always checked out in libraries. Where have I been? I finally reached the top of the reserve list at the library the other day and set about reading my third Coelho title.

Halfway through the book, I was overcome by the urge to stop and “tell my story.” I was home alone, and . . . you can find the details of that occasion in a story I posted on my site on Gather.com. For those who don’t have time just now to click over and read it, I’ll summarize by saying it was a transformative experience, and one I highly recommend.

From this event I discovered that sometimes sitting back and talking, even to a candle, can lead to greater self-awareness and insight than writing for months. Furthermore, that insight can have a powerful impact on your writing.

I’ve reached the point in my writing that the urge to continue piling up “scrapbook” stories is waning. I’m becoming more interested in compiling my collection into more complex memoir form. Without a vision of that unifying thread, there isn’t much hope for a meaningful melange, and I hadn’t found that thread.

One of the outcomes of my mysterious life review sort of process was finding that thread. By sitting and telling my story, without interruption or the need to clarify, explain or defend, a sense of orderly progression developed. Lots of other good things happened, but I’ll let you read about those in the story. This post is about writing.

Should you wish to experiment with my discovery, I suggest these ingredients:

• A comfortable chair or other place where you can sit upright, without needing to squirm for an hour or two.
• A block of unstructured time, at least two hours.
• Privacy — if you can’t find time alone at home, try a park or other secluded spot. Turn off your cell phone!

These are the basics. I found darkness helpful, along with a candle for a focal point, but a leafy glen would work as well. The important thing is to find a place that “feels right.” This is an intuitive process. There are no rules. Read my story, and see where it leads you. You can make notes if you like, but I, the compulsive writer, found it liberating to just talk. You can share your thoughts later if you wish, but this is about going deep inside yourself. Share later. Dialog is distracting.

This process should help you get at the heart of your story, as well or better than anything I know of. It could help you get past fears and block you weren’t even aware you had. Communing with self is the core of the writing process, and this is the most effective way I’ve found to do that.

Peace be with you.

Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal