Healing Words

I find writing blogs enjoyable and fulfilling and they provide a good work out for my mind. I get a thrill from sharing my personal life with people I don’t know, and it feels like there is value in taking the risk of exposing myself completely, at least from the safety of the comfy chair next to my computer.

I like to sit down and type ideas as they come to me, emptying myself of everything I have to say on a subject, and then I close my eyes and check myself until I know that there is nothing left to reveal. Next I go through the points I’ve written and move them about until they become a steady flow of ideas. Then I link the ideas, and cut out anything which doesn’t fit, and that’s about it. Afterwards I am left feeling lighter and free, and ready to face the rest of the day. I do try to write first thing in the morning, though now that my Mrs has become my Mistress, my priority is to serve her, so writing often needs to come a little later in the day, though luckily for me, she is a kind Goddess and respects my process and always gives me time to write.

I used to do a practice recommended by a number of writing therapists. It is to write for thirty minutes every day, without worrying about what. It doesn’t need to make sense, and the key is not to think about what you are writing, but just to allow the keys of the keyboard to move under the fingers. You are not meant to read it back, but just to keep going. It is like relaxing into a dance, or a sport, and soon the activity starts to happen and the body and mind are there to support it, without getting in the way. By doing this, we are able to tap into our subconscious, and slowly reveal our underlying thoughts and feelings which are driving us.

When I look back on the work I did on this, I see a number of recurring themes. Firstly, there was the desperate longing in me to find a woman I loved, who would give me clear boundaries. It took me years to find her, and even when I did, I nearly threw it away, because true surrender doesn’t come easily. Beyond that, there is a need in me to be acknowledged by those around me as having something important to say. Quite a few people from my peer group have gone on to become significant members of their communities, and when I compare myself to them, I feel a sense of cognitive dissonance. Next, I carry around a sense of injustice about our society – in me is the little boy who was abused, and cries for the abuse of everyone. There is also the pain of our collective divorce from nature – that we have worked together to control nature, but in doing so we have lost our connection to Pachamama. There are also a whole bunch of fears in me which need expression: fear of dying, of being destroyed, of seeming weak and emasculated, of being left alone. Now I’m checking inside, and I feel I’ve said it all. Good to know I’m on track.