I’m afraid to write the truth. I often catch myself editing, afraid to put on the page what I actually want to say, as if putting it in ink on paper will somehow make me a bad person. I’m afraid of my own judgement and the non-existent judgement of “others” who never even have to know what goes on those pages. A deep cultural conditioning that needs practiced out 🙂 thanks for the permission to go there anyway and the reminder that the page is strong enough to hold me—that I am strong enough to hold me.
...the deep cultural conditioning. yes. page is strong enough. this writing here on substack has helped me let go of all the matters for which i think i'll be judged. thank you Ashley.
I feel so blessed to be a mother who has held babies in her body--ones who've lived and ones who've died. It is the most profound embodiment of the preciousness of life, with all the hope and despair literally inside me. This piece is a gift.
I have been in a season of shadow lately. Really examining those parts of me and writing from there. It still feels scary. And necessary.
This collaboration from you two is a gift I am so grateful to receive. Stephanie’s book is poetically piercing and it stayed with me long after I closed it.
How pleased I was to see you two come together here! 🫶🙏🏼
about to enter a week of silence after a month of relative quiet, daily several hours of sitting, examining and observing the dark, rushing, doubtful rivulets that run beneath the surface...
Great essay, and Stephanie I’m sorry this happened to you…so so difficult.
I recently started writing in this way. I’m about 4 weeks in, trying to do it every morning, and it’s almost humorous to watch the patterns emerge, and what I avoid day after day that I don’t think I recognized in the first week, but after avoiding for a while it makes you wonder when you’ll go there…
Nervous and relieved. There is something about that combination that probably is telling us this was something worthy of doing!
On the subject of grief, today is Day 5 of a short "exchange" I had with another writer on grief on Poetry & Process. Grief is so hard to explore in writing...
Thrilled for you in this newfound practice! I love how you describe the pattern-finding—and how writing presses us to pay attention, in writing as in life.
I am most afraid to write about loss. Loss of relationships and what I thought they would be, loss of a marriage, loss of a sister, loss of friendships. I know in my head it would help in the healing, but there’s too much pain in my heart to actually write down the words.
I’m afraid to write about anything, fearing that putting my truth into words will force me to face it. Thank you for this perspective, it’s nudged me to try. I’m looking forward to reading Stephanie’s book. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
I’m afraid to write the truth. I often catch myself editing, afraid to put on the page what I actually want to say, as if putting it in ink on paper will somehow make me a bad person. I’m afraid of my own judgement and the non-existent judgement of “others” who never even have to know what goes on those pages. A deep cultural conditioning that needs practiced out 🙂 thanks for the permission to go there anyway and the reminder that the page is strong enough to hold me—that I am strong enough to hold me.
So much unlearning and rediscovery in this process as you describe! I hope you’ll find too the incredible agency in penning what’s real for you ♥️
...the deep cultural conditioning. yes. page is strong enough. this writing here on substack has helped me let go of all the matters for which i think i'll be judged. thank you Ashley.
I feel so blessed to be a mother who has held babies in her body--ones who've lived and ones who've died. It is the most profound embodiment of the preciousness of life, with all the hope and despair literally inside me. This piece is a gift.
So much sacred wisdom here. we carry them still ♥️
thank you Isabel. love your mind and your heart.
I have been in a season of shadow lately. Really examining those parts of me and writing from there. It still feels scary. And necessary.
This collaboration from you two is a gift I am so grateful to receive. Stephanie’s book is poetically piercing and it stayed with me long after I closed it.
How pleased I was to see you two come together here! 🫶🙏🏼
Cheering you on in your courage, Allison! Not everyone is so brave.
Thank you, Stephanie!
indeed... thank you for this, Allison.
about to enter a week of silence after a month of relative quiet, daily several hours of sitting, examining and observing the dark, rushing, doubtful rivulets that run beneath the surface...
May your sitting and stillness deliver exactly what you need from it and what it needs from you, Elena.
Gah, "doubtful rivulets that run beneath the surface" Such resonance.
Great essay, and Stephanie I’m sorry this happened to you…so so difficult.
I recently started writing in this way. I’m about 4 weeks in, trying to do it every morning, and it’s almost humorous to watch the patterns emerge, and what I avoid day after day that I don’t think I recognized in the first week, but after avoiding for a while it makes you wonder when you’ll go there…
certain things that i have coming in my next book, dear Brian, are my first attempt at "going there." nervous and also relieved.
Nervous and relieved. There is something about that combination that probably is telling us this was something worthy of doing!
On the subject of grief, today is Day 5 of a short "exchange" I had with another writer on grief on Poetry & Process. Grief is so hard to explore in writing...
Thrilled for you in this newfound practice! I love how you describe the pattern-finding—and how writing presses us to pay attention, in writing as in life.
This is such an inspiring piece. Writing is absolutely a spiritual experience. Thank you both for this reminder.
I am most afraid to write about loss. Loss of relationships and what I thought they would be, loss of a marriage, loss of a sister, loss of friendships. I know in my head it would help in the healing, but there’s too much pain in my heart to actually write down the words.
I hear and echo that, Julie. I've written about a couple of things in my next book and tried to touch into this. So grateful you're here.
Thank you Elena.
thank you, N.
I’m afraid to write about anything, fearing that putting my truth into words will force me to face it. Thank you for this perspective, it’s nudged me to try. I’m looking forward to reading Stephanie’s book. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
thank you Raeanne. here is another nudge to write what feels scary and also to give yourself plenty of space.