Writing for Life

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”
~ Steve Jobs US computer engineer & industrialist (1955 – )

Do you watch America Idol? I admit to watching the audition part. It is a spectacle. Who will have talent? There are those people who insist they can sing, but, their notes are very short of melodious. What compels them to put themselves in the path of potential humiliation? What makes them want to sing?

I guess we could spend some time figuring out the psychology of a person who believes they have a talent they clearly don’t possess. I am sure there is someone who has written about it. I may wince at the humiliation, because I know the pain of feeling my talent is unrecognized. Even when the talent is lacking I have to give a hand to each person who can stand up and give it a shot. We may question their motivation, but, I would like to put this forth; what if the people just want to be heard?

“Part of being a Master is learning how to sing in nobody else’s voice but your own.” ~ Hugh Macleod, How To Be Creative: 25. You have to find your own schtick., 08-22-04

The King’s Speech is an award winning movie about King George VI finding his voice, and hence his power in a time of war. Below is a trailer for the movie. Watch what happens.

“…I have a voice!” the King exclaims. I have a voice. Until we discover our true voice we are living a less then authentic life. We all have known those situations when we have kept silent when we wanted to speak out. Maybe you grow up in a home where children were to be seen but not heard. I spent years in Catholic school where free speech or thinking was not encouraged. In fact, those students who spoke their minds were sent off to continue their education in public schools. I don’t know if they were worst off then those of us left to our own silences.

“Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth” ~ Katherine Mansfield (1888 – 1923)

When writing, the most difficult thing to do is create a character with an authentic voice. Without a voice of our own, our characters may be flat and with out life. If we are confined in some ways we can infuse our characters with the voice we don’t have in real life. But we must be willing to speak the truth. Having a voice means claiming our power and our vulnerabilities. Either on our own, or through our writing, we have to be willing to lay it all out for our audience. Do you have a voice? I know you do. What are you saying?

Journaling for Healing Writing Prompt:
Find your voice. Practice reciting a poem or a piece of an essay each day. Stand in the middle of a room or on a street corner and use your best and loudest voice and recite your piece. Gather family and friends and recite for them. If they laugh at you, all the better, it will build up your humiliation muscle. Really I mean it. So often we stop at embarrassment and don’t move through it.
Here is my example of reciting my poem, “A Body of Work”

After you recite spend some time in your journal writing about the experience. What piece did you pick and why? How did it feel to use your voice? What did it sound like?

You might even consider recording your voice and listen to it again and again. Get used to sound of your own voice and use often.

Create a character that says the things you may not have the courage to express now. Imbue this character with all the qualities you would like to have for yourself. Give them a fabulous voice and wonderful words. Have them rant and rave, or have the sing with full volume. The idea is to create a character that can give voice to your words.

Originally published here >http://www.selfhealingexpressions.com/journaling_for_healing.shtml

Want to write your own life story? Click here >>> http://www.selfhealingexpressions.com/course_overview_17.shtml

Sunday was hot. I had a long day ahead of me. There was sweating involved but not from exercise or frolic. It was the type of humid New York City summer day where sweat pours from you when you breathe. Not that you can breathe because the air is a thick, soggy cesspool of air that has not moved in days. The ground shimmers in the heat. The smells from this sidewalk have been there since the cement was poured. It was hot. I mentioned that right?

I started out in Church. A really big one. The Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I wanted to be sleeping but I was slated to be on the healing team of one. Holy obligation propelled to church in the avoidance of hell. Summer at the Cathedral means being short staffed. The clergy are switching roles by doing things they might normal do. As an example the Dean of the Cathedral had to be the sub-deacon for the 11 am service. The Dean and I have one particular thing in common we have a deep distaste for NYC summer heat. If you are in the service on a Sunday you are wearing your street clothes and a alb and may be another vestment or two. I just had my alb over my skirt and top. Nonetheless, we were sitting in a very large, warm cathedral and near the end of the service I was really uncomfortable and slightly queasy. Despite queasy and short staffness the service was lovely and I believe the holy spirit was present.

After the service I had over to the congregation meet and greet party where I had some warm cheese, rice crackers (for my gluten free tummy), grapes and unsweetened ice tea. I then left for my next appointment the 30th b-day party of my niece, Aimee. I tried to finagle a pick up at the train station in Great Neck but was told to take a cab. Geez.

It turned out the #1 train was not running from 110th to 96th street. Since it was 96 degrees walking fourteen blocks was not on my plan. The downtown bus had just left so I found a bit of shade and waited for the next one. While waiting for the bus I decided to head over to the bank so I could have some cash for the cab. The bus pulled in just as I crossed the street but had filled up so fast the bus driver kicked us stragglers and the door. I chatted with a woman telling her a bus was on its way but she was convinced I was seeing a mirage. When the bus pulled up a bunch of us sweaty passengers piled on. But someone snuck in the back door pissing off the bus driver who wouldn’t move until the guy paid. The reluctant passenger moved up and paid, got into a fight with the driver, prompting the driver to lock down the bus for ten minutes and then kicking us all out. The third bus came right after and we headed to 96th where the trains were running local until 42nd street. I had orginally planned on taking the 1:52 train, moved to the 2:19 and then surrendered to the concept of the 2:52 train.

By the time I got to Penn station I was really queasy and thirsty so I went for french fries and iced coffee and waited the twenty minutes for the train.

Are you catching the drift of the kind of day I was having? I mean it was a lot of frustrating twists and turns, coupled by oppressive heat and humidity and cranky bus drivers. Despite it all I was having a great time with the people I was meeting. At church we did it all with a sense of humor. The passengers, though overheated, were funny and ironic in the way NYer’s can be in situation like these. This part of the story is my mini oydessy to get to get to the party.

I’ll share the next part of the story, it does take a different turn.

Creating a Story of Your Own

You Have a Voice!

Finding a Story