Category: Healing

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Finding Your True Voice

Journaling is a bridge to the Creative Self. For writers, journaling is a warm up exercise, a place to practice craft, to make sense of our thoughts and ideas. It’s a private exercise, not meant for any eyes but our own.

It works equally well for those with no desire to publish fiction or nonfiction.  It’s a simple, practical way to process our experience, to learn, change, and grow.

In your journal, you can tell the truth.  The whole truth, unvarnished, however messy and convoluted.

You don’t have to be “nice.” You don’t need the diplomatic turn of phrase. You don’t have to hedge, be vague, hesitate, or wonder if what you have to say will be accepted.

THERE IS A RULE:

NO ONE READS YOUR JOURNAL

The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. 

Margaret Atwood

If you’re upset, angry, feel left out, not good enough, put down, ill at ease, or if you don’t know how you feel, but know it isn’t good, this is the place to go. This is where you can say it all. To other people. To yourself. To the world.

To journal is to become a truth teller in training. To practice being honest. To let go of inhibitions, fears,  hesitancy, or doubt that what you have to say is not good enough. What matters is not pleasing others, but finding your authentic voice.

If you move on from journaling and write stories, essays, or books for the public, it’s even more important to tell the truth. Your truth. Facts matter, but in any story, the emotional journey matters more. No matter what you write about, your take on it will be your own.

In my journaling practice, I started simple. Stayed on the surface. What happened? How upset I was. How angry. Misunderstood. I was right, they were wrong. My journal was a record of what happened and how I felt.

But as I kept going, exploring my feelings and reactions, I went deeper, gaining perspective and getting more honest.

Not that I had been lying before, but I was peeling off the layers of my outer perception so I could see beneath the surface. Like floating face down on the surface of the sea and catching glimpses of shells, a clump of seaweed, or a crab burrowing into the sand.

I started asking different questions. What was the truth? Had I spun a tale of half-truths to justify my actions? So everyone else could feel satisfied? What really motivated me? What hurt the most? Did this pain feel familiar? What was under the pain? How much was I trying to please others by diluting what I said?

The more often we show up on the page and push ourselves further into that space under our ordinary awareness, the more relief we feel. We let go. We laugh at ourselves. We learn. We gain another degree of freedom.

So, write it out. Dig deep. Ask your younger self what she has been longing to say since you were three years old.

Her wisdom might surprise you.

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.       Joan Didion

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What is Healing?

I teach a course in writing for healing because I’ve learned that journaling about difficulties in life leads to new understanding, insight, and compassion. It can even lead to creating a new story for our life.

Words heal. Thoughts heal.

So what is healing in our difficult, erratic world?

  • Anything that helps us mend, lifts our spirits, invigorates us, points in new directions
  • Insight, changing our mind, understanding a different point of view, feeling the connection of all life on earth, however fleetingly
  • Friends, companions, colleagues, adversaries
  • Meeting a challenge, learning a new skill, finding the courage to speak our truth
  • A band-aid, an aspirin, herbs, medicine, massage, loving touch, laughter, a good listener, a friendly smile
  • Sitting still on the bank of a river, on a beach, in a high meadow inhaling the scent of pine needles
  • Quieting the mind, holding a sleeping child, stroking the fur of a beloved pet
  • Spotting a rare animal on a hike, sunlight dancing through treetops, birdsong
  • Poetry, music, dancing for joy, writing from the heart, saying what we mean
  • Using our creative gifts to make someone smile. 

In the book,  Healing Words: The Power of Prayer and the Practice of Medicine, Larry Dossey, MD, discusses the concept of “prayerfulness,” a state where a person does not pray for something in the traditional sense, but lives with a sense of the sacred, of being aligned with “something higher.”

Prayerfulness accepts without being passive and is grateful without giving up. It is willing to stand in the mystery of life when the rational mind falters. It is also related to recorded instances of spontaneous healing, from cancer and other difficult diagnoses.

Local writer Lynn C. Miller and friends contemplate healing on their latest podcast of The Unruly Muse.

In this episode, John and Lynn search for the soothing moments, the healing balm, the uplifting. In a world fractured and fractious, a country aching for change and most of all relief, possibilities occur that can lessen the load and lead to equanimity. We find comfort in song, music, connection with others, the natural world, and childhood dreams of unbounded time.

I view healing as more change than repair—as growth, becoming, learning, wisdom, humility.

For a person on a healing path, life is no longer routine, tethered to the demands of the external world. It becomes magical. Intuition, feelings, and impulses are welcomed and explored. 

The magical approach to life assumes we have had a hand in creating everything we encounter. And that means if we don’t like what we experience, we can change it.

Change our words. Change our minds. Change our lives. 

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Our Stories Change Us

Do you love to tell stories? Do friends say you ought to write a book? Do you take them seriously?

Whether or not you aim for publication, telling your stories is a great way to learn about who you are, how you’ve lived your life, and what you’d like to change.

For years I’ve taught a course on Writing for Healing, because I believe that people who express how they feel about difficult, stressful, and traumatic life situations can change their lives. Once we move from stress, depression, and pessimism to hopefulness, anything is possible.

The good news is, it isn’t hard. Writing for healing means journaling about what happened and how you feel about. The writing does not need to be shared, published, or even re-read. Simply putting down the words is enough.

Years of research have shown that writing requires us to use the analytical brain to find the words and concepts to describe what happened. It also uses the emotional brain to attach those words and concepts to our feelings. When we write for healing, immune function increases. With less energy spent pushing down our feelings, our t-cells are more energetic, helping us stave off colds and viruses.

People who regularly write about difficult experiences find they come up with new solutions to problems, understand the patterns of their lives, and learn how to address future challenges. They discover their thought processes can heal them!

Another benefit of personal writing is to examine the stories we live by. Our parents teach us who we are, what we can expect from life, what is possible and what’s out of reach. We internalize these stories and all those that follow, then behave as if they are true. 

But, wait a minute! They’re stories! Stories can change!

Writing a new story is a wonderful way to explore how we might change our lives for the better.

My neighbor lives by the story that she is not talented enough to paint the pictures she sees in her mind. Discouraged by an art teacher in high school and told by her parents that art is not practical, she put aside her passion and studied accounting. At mid-life, she is considering that her story about what is possible, practical, and safe is one she is ready to discard.

Journaling to learn about ourselves, to heal, to grow and develop works! 

At minimum, we feel better. And for those who persevere, it can lead to shedding worn-out ideas and embracing a new identity.

It may even inspire you to write a short story, novel, or memoir. Creative expression of any type is an antidote for feelings of unease, despair, even stagnation that can arise when we don’t allow our authentic self to express through us.

So, write, paint, dance, plant a garden, design a house. Listen to the inner wisdom waiting to be heard.

Open the door!

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The Gift of Acceptance

When I attended a school in California to learn to meditate, a seven-week experiment  turned into a three-year program of transformation. The teachers used no books or written material. All instruction was verbal, in the tradition of the great mystery schools of ancient times. 

Similar to Gnosticism in its approach, at that unconventinal school we learned to understand and work with our energy systems. They taught us to find and release ideas, beliefs, experiences, and patterns that hindered us from being a clear channel for our own highest information. In other words, we learned how to invite direct perception of our own higher/deeper aspects that are connected to Source.

Over and over, we were reminded to “stay in present time” which was both a concept and a grounding technique. 

This is a tall order. Although I learned how to accomplish it in my sacred meditation and reading spaces, ordinary life was more challenging. 

Accepting what comes with an open heart is a key to healing. Only through accepting and noticing both positive and negative events can I learn what hidden beliefs and karmic conditions influence me through what psychology calls the “shadow” identity.

For me, the first step was to stop resisting. Another tall order, especially with losses and health issues. The second step could not happen until I accepted the actual conditions of my life and found the reason my biofield had attracted them.  Then, change and healing became possible.

For some of us–stubborn, opinionated, and slow to learn–these steps are taken again and again. 

Mindset matters.  Looking for the lesson, the pearl, the elusive needle hidden in the chaff, is a habit of thought that develops over time. With practice. 

Although “awakening” to Source was not where I started, it has become my lifelong journey. The lessons continue to come, showing me deeper levels of my experience than I ever dreamed of accessing.

All creative work, all soul work, creates resistance. I don’t know why; it seems a function of how our mental minds work. I learned to deal with it first in my writing, and those lessons have served me well. As long as I remember to stay humble. As one of my teachers said long ago, “We’re all bozos on this bus.” 

Humor matters. So does compassion. We know about compassion for others. We strive to express it without erasing the boundaries that keep us safe. And some of us have to learn compassion for ourselves. A worthy goal.

Today I was inspired by the words of the Dalai Lama in his Bodhisattva Prayer for Humanity.

“May I be a guard for those who need protection

A guide for those on the path

A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood

May I be a lamp in the darkness

A resting place for the weary

A healing medicine for all who are sick

A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles

And for the boundless multitudes of living beings

May I bring sustenance and awakening

Enduring like the earth and sky

Until all beings are freed from sorrow

And all are awakened.”

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Listen! Something is Stirring!

It wants your attention. It wants to be free. Have you heard it whisper?

You know what it is. It dances through your dreams. It causes you to be late because you’re mesmerized by a cloud formation that looks exactly like the city in a story you want to write. In a rare moment of silence, it says, Come, follow me, I have a story only you can tell. An image only you can paint.

It offers impractical ideas, suggesting you compose a poem or a symphony. A ludicrous idea. After all, you’re a busy person. Who has the time for frivolities? Ridiculous. But, is it?

The call of the Creative Self is real. It means that something inside you wants to be born into the world of time and the light of day.

The seeds of inspiration reside within us. Often just beneath the level of awareness. It takes a receptive attitude to invite those seeds into our lives so we can shape them by creative acts into a poem, a story, a drawing, a clay pot.

Children have unfettered access to the messages of their Creative Self. They draw on walls, paint on their toes, and sing at the top of their small lungs, simply for the joy of it.

As we grow, we learn what pleases our parents, teachers, and friends. We want to fit in, to be loved and praised, so we learn to follow the rules. We don’t fingerpaint when we’re supposed to be studying. We don’t eat dessert before the meal. We don’t spend nearly as much time watching clouds drift by.

Even though we learn to ignore its subversive messages, the Creative Self does not disappear. It is always waiting.

When it makes itself known, it can burst out like thunder, impossible to ignore. Or it may whisper, faintly, its voice only discernible in the vague moments between sleep and waking. Don’t be fooled by volume. The faint voice may have more to say.

Humans create biologically. We also create the conditions of our lives, with our choices, our willingness to learn, observe, and investigate what lies beyond our immediate surroundings.

  • Every explorer wonders what waits beyond the horizon.
  • Every athlete imagines the heights of skill she can achieve.
  • Every artist practices her art to faithfully reproduce the images of the imagination.

People who perform at the highest levels of their sport, art, craft, or profession have an inner drive urging them on. They might call it inspiration or ambition. The words don’t matter. The vision that urges us to keep us moving forward comes from the Creative Self.

You can do it, the Creative Self notes, because it knows you can.

No matter how loud or soft, how often it comes, or how clear its message, the voice of the Creative Self is what you are waiting for.

“Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.”

                                                                                                                 Rumi

 

 

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Winners and More Winners

My new book, When Spirit Whispers: a journey of awakening, is a winner in the 2022 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards! I am excited and gratified to be honored by this excellent organization.

The book was a labor of love, my small offering of aid and inspiration to those traveling the path of personal discovery. Writing and publishing it was a lot of work and the award got me thinking about what being a winner means.

Awards and recognition are great, of course, but not the whole story. I haven’t entered many contests, partly because the submission fees can be considerable and the wait times long. I decided to go straight for publication and focused on getting short stories published while I was finishing my first novel.

After struggling to learn how to write publishable work, my first published short story was a huge win! My work was in print! And accompanied by beautiful art! It encouraged me to learn more about the market and how to hone my stories so they would be interesting to editors and publishers.

In the last twelve years, I have published many short stories, personal essays, and three novels. I also self-published a collection of short stories, The Way Home, several short pieces of fiction, and now, two nonfiction books, When Spirit Whispers and the When Spirit Whispers Workbook.

I appreciate being recognized by industry professionals, but even with the fancy sticker I get to paste on my book, it’s the reaction of my readers that warms my heart. When readers tell me how they react to my book, some finding validation and inspiration in its pages, all the struggle to write and publish is worthwhile.

So what is a win?

Awards, yes, of course. And getting your words in print, yes, is fun and validating.

But, wins take many forms, like:

  • Finishing a book/story/screenplay/poem
  • Expressing yourself in writing, art, dance, song
  • Enjoying a career you love
  • Creating a loving family
  • Surviving difficult life events
  • Surviving loss in any form
  • Getting through and adjusting to any difficult medical diagnosis
  • Healing old trauma
  • Thriving anew from the lessons of trauma
  • Finding the friends, healers, and playmates who see us for who we are
  • Speaking our truth
  • Allowing love to guide us, even when the world is careening off its axis
  • Learning to forgive
  • Finding joy in work, play, nature, animals, and all the wonderful people who are standing in the light of love

How do you feel about winning? What gives you pleasure? What is joyful? What are you proud of?

If you can name even one thing, then you’re already a winner.

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How Healthy is Your Brain?

About 50 million people worldwide are suffering from dementia in 2021, but the total number of people with dementia is projected to reach 82 million in 2030 and a staggering 152 million in 2050. 

For Kate Kunkel, the tragedy of this disease struck three times. Both grandmothers and her mother passed away with dementia, inspiring Kate to embark on a mission to understand why this ruthless disease was haunting her family.  During this process, Kate made some startling discoveries and has devoted her life to sharing them with as many people as possible, in the hopes that she can spare others this terrible fate.

Kate’s book, Don’t Let the Memories Fade, is for anyone looking for ways to improve their health and stave off the dreaded diagnosis of dementia. No matter your age, the information and suggestions in this book will help you live a healthier life and feel better!

I particularly like two things about this book:

One, it’s written for the general reader in clear, simple language and from the perspective of someone who has lived through the heartbreak of assisting a family member with Alzheimer’s.

Second, the suggestions it offers—on diet, exercise, sleep, stress reduction, and creativity apply to anyone who wants to live healthy—especially at and after midlife.

Following the suggestions offered in this book will reduce your chances of developing not only dementia but the other diseases of older age—heart problems, cancer, arthritis–any condition where inflammation is a factor.

Research on the microbiome points to the detrimental effects of the typical American diet, stress, and environmental factors. But simple lifestyle changes can reduce the inflammation in our bodies and give us new hope.

We affect the level of health we experience. It isn’t always easy to change our ways, but the benefits are enormous. Even if you have dementia or other inflammatory diseases in your genetic line, you can change your future and beat the odds! People are doing it every day. This book is a great place to start investigating how to live healthier and preserve your memories.

We know now that cognitive growth can occur at any age. Neurogenesis is the study of how new nerve cells develop. We can learn new tasks and make new memories well into our nineties if we work on exercising our brains! Learn something new. Learn something new that’s hard and you’ll notice how much more alert you feel!

Each chapter has a “checkup” so readers can assess themselves on the topic discussed. Included are practical steps to improve health. Kunkel ends the book with an 8-week program for improving brain health. It includes suggestions for diet and nutrition, exercise, and lots of yummy recipes. A list of resources is included for those who want to know more.  Check it out! You have nothing to lose but your old habits!

Kate consults with people to improve their brain health. You can see her podcast at Brain Health Matters.

 

 

 

 

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A Different Kind of Memoir

New Mexico author Jean Stouffer has written a moving memoir of healing from the effects of growing up with an alcoholic mother.

But Sometimes I Cry is not just another recounting of a child caring for an absent parent and the self-esteem and abandonment issues that ensue. This memoir uses personal history, myth, and poetry to convey her journey from a traditional wife and mother who could not express herself to a woman who speaks her truth and accepts how she feels.

She tells her story in short chapters organized into five sections as she works with a therapist to unblock her emotions and uncover her true self.

Most sections are told in the third person, from the point of view of many charming fictional creatures—mouse, cloud, stone, owl, baby bird, beaver—who stand in for the author. Only the sections about her beloved dog, Molly, are conveyed in the first person. They are among the most moving accounts in the book.

She also gives the reader short progress reports in the third person, which tie together the fictional and poetic chapters.

When I asked about that choice, Jean said that writing in the first person was too painful. Her fictional characters conveyed her meaning and gave her the distance she needed to write about her experiences and process.

Jean did not publish this book for thirty years. Jean said she wrote it for herself, to process what she was feeling, and, at the time, never considered publication. Years later, a friend read the manuscript and encouraged her to put her story into the world. Sometimes I Cry came out in 2021.

“Writing the book changed me,” Jean said recently during a phone conversation. “It improved my relationship with my husband and helped me realize I had value beyond my traditional roles. After that, I became a hypnotherapist and got a lot of satisfaction using my skills to help people through difficult times. Going through the healing process and writing about it helped me understand that it is okay to have emotions, to be an independent person with my own feelings and goals.”

I asked Jean what she hoped readers would get from her book.

“Hope,” she answered. “Maybe my story can encourage others. Facing the darkness isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. I ended up a much happier person. A stronger person who could offer my gifts without losing myself.”

You can purchase Sometimes I Cry in paperback and e-book formats at Amazon.

You can reach Jean at www.JeanStouffer.com

 

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The Book I Feared to Write

When the pandemic of 2020 crashed down like a tidal wave, I retreated into my home to wait it out.

A writer and teacher who works at home, it wasn’t a stretch to teach classes online and restrict communications to telephone and Zoom sessions. Enforced isolation seemed the perfect time to w0rk on ideas I’d been gathering for a new book. No more excuses. Time to write that book.

For the first few weeks I believed my own story. Kept my commitments. Participated in online meetings and classes. On regular bike rides with my dog, Zena, I spoke to neighbors I had rarely seen. Everyone was eager to say hello, pass the time of day, and relay how they were coping. At the park, passersby were friendlier than usual. I sat under a ramada near a favorite tree while Zena rolled on the grass. Dogs trotted over to say hello. People waved. It was interesting how being forced to separate brought us closer together.

Weeks passed. I taught my classes, worked with students, completed editing jobs, and wrote. My writing practice is decades old, so I always write, but the new book’s focus eluded me. Anxiety kept me moving but also made it hard to sit and concentrate on an intensely private subject: my relationship to Spirit.

Fiction was easier to write, so I did that. Sent out short stories. Got a couple published. Still, I felt like a skittish animal running in ever-tightening circles around the one thing it wanted but feared to approach.

Facing my new book, which my mind had told me would be short and easy to write, I trembled.

An optimist at heart, I believe we have more freedom than we realize. We aren’t victims of our genetics, family upbringing, finances, politics, or experience. These things shape us, but at every moment, we have the choice to change. No matter our circumstances, we can embark on a fresh path.

Practice what you preach, I exhorted myself as I created a new spreadsheet and listed my chapters. I forged ahead with another draft—wrote, edited, researched, and organized. But something wasn’t right.

It was time to examine my own beliefs. One More Time.

After serious meditation and journaling, I uncovered the face of my resistance—my lifelong reticence to write about who I am. Not in the external sense. What was uncomfortable was writing about my inner world, which is far more real to me than what I do “out there.”

I am one of the lucky ones. From early childhood, I have wandered the inner world. I also knew that, if I spoke of it, the outcome would be ridicule and shaming. So I kept my counsel until I got older and found safe spaces to be myself.

The roots of my personal challenges were buried deep. Not “out there” in an unmarked grave but inside my psyche and body, what I call the “biofield.” Because of early trauma, I’ve berated and second-guessed myself, agonized, and rationalized when deciding about jobs, relationships, business, writing projects, and finances. I doubted my inner perceptions and the common wisdom. Anxiety was a constant companion. No matter what I did, I judged myself, taking on more responsibility than was mine to bear, experiencing the exquisite torture of teetering on the line between worlds.

Struggling with a book I couldn’t grasp, an epiphany burst forth. I realized that, at this moment, only what’s important counts—and what’s important is what I’ve learned from sojourning with my inner self. The lessons were not complicated, but I’ve been a slow study, so it’s taken time to re-member them

  • There is a path through life which we chose before birth.
  • We walk our own path, whether or not we know it.
  • Our inner self guides us, whether or not we notice.
  • Life is easier when we heed the messages from within.
  • When we listen to the messages of our inner self, it grows into a Wise Inner Guide.
  • Spirit possesses infinite patience.
  • It’s never too late to listen and learn. 

The book, When Spirit Whispers, a journey of awakening, will be published soon, along with an accompanying workbook. This article is an amended version of its preface. I plan to write two more volumes, Visions of Healing and Doorways to Healing.

Going forward, I will use this monthly blog to write about healing, trauma, and writing, the three subjects that intersect to form my path. I hope you will find it useful

If you would like to be an advance reader for When Spirit Whispers, contact me at carol@carolhollandmarch.com. I will send you an electronic copy of the book. If you enjoy it, I hope you will be kind enough to leave a review.

 

 

 

 

 

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Valentine for a Beloved Dog

I thought my dog Buddy would enjoy a companion because he loved playing with other dogs at the dog park. But when I brought Zena home one scorching August day in 2010, I learned I was wrong. Buddy was jealous, annoyed, and intimidated by this big Shepherd/heeler female who had suddenly appeared in his kingdom.

I worried about how they would get along, but after one altercation instigated by little Buddy, Zena let him have his way. Although half her size, Buddy assumed the position of top dog. He stole her toys, hid her treats, and commandeered her bed, so Zena slept on the rug. Six years old, shy, and abandoned by her family during the recession, she was so happy to have a home she didn’t care. I didn’t realize then how very loving she was.

No matter how much Buddy teased and plagued her, Zena never snapped or growled. She accepted every new situation, dog, and person with shy anticipation, followed by enthusiastic wags of her long tail. She was a big gentle girl, patient and forgiving, without a trace of competition or jealousy. She had none of Buddy’s annoying habits. She didn’t rummage in the trash or steal food. When she wanted something, she sat and quietly asked for it. When Buddy beat her to the punch, she sighed and walked away. I learned to offer their treats separately.

Zena tried to play with Buddy. Sometimes he would engage with her, but most of the time she was forced to impersonate a lone wolf.

From the first, Zena was on the job, making a show of fierceness with her deep throated barks at anyone approaching the front yard. She took her role as guard dog seriously.

She needed no training to stay at my side on our walks and trotted along beside my bike as if she had always been there. She never tried to escape the yard, as Buddy routinely did, or dash away when I took her to the bosque or mesa trails. Sometimes she joyfully charged after a rabbit (in vain), but always returned quickly at my call.

She never chased Bosco, the cat, and as an elder, cautiously accepted the arrival of Clio the kitten. They soon became fast friends.

Walking in the bosque one day with both dogs, when Buddy was in the early stage of dementia, I learned more about Zena. I couldn’t find Buddy, and when Zena heard my frantic calls, she took off searching. She found him and brought him back to me. I wrote a story about that experience, called Angel Dog, which I’ve posted on my website. It’s a true story about how I learned to see Zena more clearly.

After Buddy left us, Zena moved into the dog bed I had bought for her and continued as my faithful companion for another four years. She was a happy dog who took pleasure in small things—a cat friend, peanut butter treats, a house to protect, and the occasional rabbit to chase. She loved me and Buddy and the cats, and although she was shy with new people, she enjoyed every person who visited us. Her tail wagged constantly. She came here to love and to serve, and she did both perfectly. Now my beautiful girl is running free.

                            On February 4, Zena left this world as peacefully as she had walked upon it.                                                  

Zena, Beloved Friend, 2004 – 2021

 

 

All content copyright © 2023 by Carol Holland March. All rights reserved.