Full Moon Greetings!
The First Full Moon of the New Decade!!
After a decade leading women in writing journeys through the chakras (and leading yoga, dance, retreats & even business workshops through the chakras), I went dormant for the better part of 2019 without knowing why.
But now it all makes sense. Hindsight 20/20.
Instead of leading, I’ve been learning, immersed in the exploration of Narrative Medicine, curious about the intersection of medicine and writing since unlike my father, grandfather, and great-grandparents, it’s the pen that’s chosen me instead of the knife.
Alas, after assisting a half-dozen programs focused on the healing power of narrative (see list at the bottom of this page), I’m still not sure what Narrative Medicine is. I suppose this isn’t entirely a bad thing, as it once took two years of focused study and application to articulate an understanding of Non-Violent Communication.
Some things are that big (and worthy.)
What I have gleaned in the company of leading thinkers, including the originator of the field of Narrative Medicine, Rita Charon, and fellow giants from the field Carol Gilligan and Paul Browde, not to mention my regular assists with two women who over time I think on as friends, scientist/mystic Joan Borysenko and memoir writer Dani Shapiro, is a greater understanding of what makes my own writing journeys through the chakras tick, ie. the brain science behind the alchemy of witness, presence and the page.
It’s funny to arrive at an understanding of the writing journeys I lead only after the fact, glean the how, why, and what of it now after experiencing it first-hand and through feedback from participants.
When I first started, I imagined the writing journey a one-time thing, but then some participants asked for more, returning again and again, and so I followed their energy and the energy of the journey instead of my ideas about what it was or wasn’t.
One such long-time participant is a business leader who works internationally and yet sets aside time in her travels to write and read and lean into other’s voices.
The careful articulation of her experience has enlarged my understanding again and again:
I keep returning to the journey because I love what bubbles up.
I am no longer writing for an audience. I am writing for me, to explore and unearth what wants to be said. I spend very little time analyzing- I just take the prompts and write whatever comes. I now LOVE my words. Unedited. Raw and powerful. Vulnerable and honest. Poetic.
Every time, I surprise myself.
I am writing into the present moment of my life – a zooming in on what currents are affecting the course of my life…… And I play with new ways of looking at my life… in any direction that moves me.
…With women who have my back, who empathize with whatever my journey is, with women who are also being vulnerable. Total support.
Like floating on water, a woman’s womb that nurtures and feeds the soul…
New and returning journeyers echo these refrains, sometimes citing revelations that they have never spoken or understandings that they have never gleaned, or forgiveness they have never felt, or self-love they have never known (my favorite!) or a sense of community they have never experienced (which grieves me.)
Their feedback often surprises and unnerves me, but fortunately, as I age, I don’t need to understand everything or take it personally so even with my newfound understanding of the science behind these journeys, what truly matters is the journey itself and the journeyers who make magic together every. single. time.
That magic is uniquely shaped by those who gather on any specific journey, but it always feels the same–awe and wonder and soul-stopping.
Sometimes the journey points the way backward for an individual, unearthing truths, other times it points forward, toward endings or new directions or greater understandings.
I like how the author Christina Baldwin speaks of personal writing:
Life hangs on a narrative thread. This thread is a braid of stories that inform us about who we are, and where we come from, and where we might go. The thread is slender but strong: we trust it to hold us and allow us to swing over the edge of the known into the future we dream in words.
For me what has always been true of writing since I first cracked open a dusty journal in my bedroom above the garage when I was a girl of 18 and everything I knew was falling apart, is what I heard spoken at a recent Poetry as Narrative Medicine program with Lisa Weinert and Holly Wren:
Writing contains the chaos of my creative mind.
My friend Dani Shapiro has been known to say that writing saved her, and perhaps that’s true for me too.
Writing saved me as a girl of 18 and then overtook me and spit me out and swallowed me whole while taking me on adventures that continue to unfold.
May it be so.
Here’s to shaping healthier narratives for 2020, particularly for this nation and our global community and planet.
Yours on the page,
January 10, 2020
On the First Full Moon of the New Decade!
2019 Narrative Program Study
(some of the programs/presenters I assisted at Kripalu this past year of learning instead of leading):
Radical Listening Narrative Medicine for a Polarized World, Rita Charon, Carol Gilligan, Paul Browde and more.
The Stories We Carry Meditation and Writing, Dani Shapiro
Spirituality, Neuroscience, and Narrative Becoming Fully Human, (and upcoming in 2020: The Spiritual Art of Memoir.) Joan Borysenko
Radical Acceptance Healing and Freeing our Hearts, Tara Brach
Bonus: Each year I return as an NGO representative at the annual Commission on the Status of Women, at the United Nations; to help shape a new narrative for the world!