Finding Strength Through Writing

Finding My Voice

Growing up afraid robbed me of my voice back then.  I was left with just that feeling of fear!  It rips at you.  Bombards your brain with a million gnawing insect-like scenarios of all the bad that could happen if... What if...What if...What if...

It seems only right that the picture shown here represents my mother (her high school typewriter, her childhood shoes).  She bestowed fear upon me but interestingly enough, she also inadvertently filled me with an anger and it has been this anger that has fueled me through many frightening storms.  And from her place in the spirit kingdom, she maybe felt that I deserved a little something for all the years of chaos I had lived through.  She guided me to her typewriter and said, "Write about it." And the words flowed.

Tell a Story About It

I have a two year old grand-daughter, now, who repeatedly says "Tell a story about it." and she wants to hear over and over again about events that captured her interest for instance her favorite - "Tell a story about the little girl who dumped the garbage."  And so we do just that.  We tell and retell the story about the day that her sister dumped the garbage and how in the end it was all ok.  It could be cleaned up.

It's this connection that makes me think about how many times I have wanted to "tell a story about" my memories of my childhood.  And every time I would put the words on paper, I would find a renewed resilience.  I would read and reread the words and somehow be filled with strength, not anger.  One night, I did sit and cry and cry, just like that day in Sedona but when I was done crying, I was ready to march forward.

Freedom to Choose

Finding my voice through writing stories has helped me to judge my movements, the paths I'd choose.  On that night that I cried so hard over what I was writing, it was so angry, so resentful.  When the crying stopped and I could focus again on the words, I asked myself if that was the way I wanted to be seen. After all, words, in print, have a way of being seen by others.  What would these words say about me.  I slept on that thought for a night and then the next morning, I changed the words.  I changed the perspective of that story.  Everything was still factually there on the page but the way I interpreted it was different.  It was that simple.  I had the freedom to look at the situation through a different lens and I changed my anger and resentment to not just acceptance but to gratitude!

We all have the ability to do this.  It's not magic.  It's choice.

When I was little and under my mother's wing, I did not have this ability to choose but to live my adult life feeling as though she is still in charge would rob me of my life. Holding on to her typewriter seems to have been intentional. "Write about it."

Everything is a Lesson - Learn From It and Move On

Since I have taken charge of my words, I have been able to write about life experiences as encounters that were presented to me as a lesson.  Writing has allowed me to study the experience and ask myself "What about this moment was I supposed to learn.  I think differently now about most things.  It hasn't taken away all fear, I have to admit, but I analyze the fear now instead of letting it consume me.  Fear is no longer a wall that I believe I can't climb. Fear is now something that temporarily stops my forward movement long enough to analyze the risks. And now my two year old grand-daughter reaffirms the process:  "Tell a story about that."

Words on paper have given me back my voice, my ability to reflect with a new perspective, my ability to analyze, and my ability to conquer fear.

And my mother's typewriter and her childhood shoes will always have a place in my home, reminding me to "write about it".