TheWritersBag.com

We often have to write about specific topics as part of our jobs or academic careers. But there are times when we want to shut the door and write about what we want to write about.

We begin writing, but soon realize that something is missing, and that something is the interest we thought we had in the subject. Word after word, sentence after sentence, the head of steam we started with peters out.

The problem is, our conscious minds often trick us. They tell us we’re interested in something, when in reality, we’re not. Our subconscious minds are much more honest. But we can’t just walk up to them and say, “Hey, what really interests me?” When we do, they stonewall it, leaving us in the dark. They are, after all, subconscious.

Domenic, a writers’ forum contributor at www.mywriterscircle.com, offers this suggestion for “tricking” our subconscious minds into revealing the truth. With his permission, I’d like to share it with you:

Take 30 minutes and start writing words onto a sheet of paper (single words). You should be able to get 300 words down. Take maybe three color markers and start to color the words that are related, such as dog, cat and bear … or women, hair and smile.

Some years back I started using this to find out just what I wanted to write about.

Thanks for the tip, Domenic. If anyone else wants to share a tip, technique, strategy or insight, please submit it in a comment. We can all learn, and we can all teach.

I’ve written before about the power of writing to heal. Recently, my wife and I became involved as volunteers in an addiction recovery program and I have seen that power in action.

Although neither of us has ever been addicted to anything stronger than donuts, or, in my wife’s case, Diet Coke®, she felt compelled to give this sort of service and dragged me along kicking and screaming. (Side note: As is typically the case with us, she often drags me along where I don’t want to go and – I hate to admit this – I often end up enjoying the experience, which has been the case in this situation.)

The meetings we lead follow the steps of the Twelve Steps program. I was excited when I read Step 4. It says, “Make a searching and fearless written moral inventory of yourself.”

A written inventory! Of course. We write our thoughts and feelings down to bring them up. We dive deep within ourselves to bring the demons out. We write and by writing we identify what’s been lurking there inside and bring it to the conscious level where we can give it battle and defeat it.

It also specifies a “fearless” written inventory. That doesn’t mean “without fear.” There will be fear: the fear of admitting to yourself who you are and what you’ve done. “Fearless” means to do it anyway, and do it thoroughly and with complete, brutal honesty, willing to feel the guilt it brings – even willing to endure guilt’s more evil twin: shame.

I’ve noticed that many of the people who come to these meetings have written copious notes, reflections and ideas in the manuals and journals they bring. In fact, when I saw this during our first meeting, I had to wonder whether we were in a meeting for addicts or writers.

The Twelve Steps have been around a long time and have helped a lot of people. The fact that they use writing as a healing tool validates my own opinions regarding the power of the personal, introspective writing process to mend the wounded soul.

It’s for Everyone

You don’t have to be an addict to benefit from writing, however. It’s for all of us. We all have wounds. We all feel guilt and shame at some level. We all have fears. We all struggle with questions whose answers elude us. We all have relationship we wish were better. And (truth be told) we’re all addicted to something – whether it’s fear, security, personal relationships, money, pride … the list goes on.

What is it about writing that heals? It forces us to ponder, reflect, and use our minds in a way that involves our souls as few other things can. Certainly, when we write reflectively, we use our minds in a way we don’t typically use them in the noise and tumult of everyday living – in a way that helps integrate all the various parts of us.

What to Write? Here’s a Start….

Do what the fourth step of the Twelve Steps asks you to do: take an inventory of yourself and your life. Be fearlessly honest and thorough. Leave nothing out. There are as many ways to approach this as there are people. Here are just a few of the many, many ways you could get started:

• Make a list of all the people with whom you have a significant personal relationship. That includes family, friends, work associates, etc. Then write down your response to questions such as, “What does she want or need from me? Am I providing it? Can I? Should I?” Then turn it around: “What do I want or need from her? Is she providing it? Can she? Should she?”
• Write down everything you fear and begin to fight those fears by writing about them.
• List everything you feel guilty about or for which you feel shame. Go back to your earliest memories. Analyze why you feel the way you feel about these things. Decide what you can do to put them behind you, or at least have a healthier attitude toward them.

As you can see from these few suggestions, writing an inventory of your life can be a formidable task. But it’s worth it.

Those who have done it claim it’s a matter of life and death.

Yesterday my wife made a personal commitment to carve time out of her busy life for purely creative and much-need enjoyments.

When she shared this with a wise young man, he said, “Good. But be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” she asked.

“For Herod,” he said. “Whenever you give birth to something good in your life, Herod will always come to kill it.”

It took me a moment to grasp his meaning. When I did, it was one of those rare and wonderful “Ah-ha!” moments.

In the Bible, King Herod of Judea discovered that a new “king” had been born. Afraid that this infant would take his throne, but not knowing the baby’s identity, Herod ordered the murder of all the children in the region two years old and younger.

But the infant king escaped. God had warned his father, Joseph, to leave by night and take his family to Egypt, far from King Herod’s maddened reach. Only after the tyrant had died and the danger had passed did Joseph get the go-ahead to return home with Jesus.

Make no mistake: when you “give birth” to something new and good in your life – something that can save you and elevate you – be certain that Herod will hear of your plan and come to kill it.

What form will the Herod in your life take? Opposition from a spouse, parent or friend? Discouragement? A health problem that weakens you? An addiction that steals your time and energy? A new responsibility someone wants to throw on you? An opportunity you can’t pass up?

Whatever Herod is for you, he will come determined to put to the sword that bright new thing in your life that you know will save you.

How can you protect it? Only you will know the answer to that, and it may not come until the killer is at the doorstep. But it will come. The question is, will you be willing to do what it takes to keep it alive? Joseph left home at a moment’s notice and hid his little family in a foreign land for a few years. Will the price you will have to pay be as high?

A month before my wife made her personal commitment, I made one. And Herod has come.

My commitment involved turning down freelance writing assignments in order to devote myself to my own writing projects. I told myself I would keep only two clients: two companies that are easy to work with and whose projects have always been relatively infrequent, small and have had comfortable deadlines. In short, these are clients I’ve always been able to fit into the cracks of my schedule.

I made the commitment, and I went for it. I told all my other clients that I had “retired.” That very week, one of the two clients I kept began throwing a steady stream of work at me. Today, over a month later, I have been too busy (as always) to pursue my own writing projects.

Herod has won … at least for now. But he won’t win forever. I may have to take a metaphorical trip to Egypt soon.

What will you do?