Admin: As I wrote on my last post, I was planning on posting just once a week on Fridays or Saturdays for the next couple of months, but I couldn’t resist sharing with you how Beth Kempton’s writing class is bringing the light.
Good morning beloved reader,
I am ecstatically delighted to be participating in
’s online writing class called River of Words, for many reasons. But one of which is because I now understand that I had gotten stuck on something a male MFA advisor had said to me: he said that if I veered away from writing about the painful experiences, it would rob my narrative of depth and power.There is truth in what he said, however this had become an inhibiting force within me — a dimming energy towards writing about what lights me up which is my natural preference. But now I understand how I’d been limiting myself, I’m happy to be able to say, Well f*ck that!
My primary archetype is an Alchemist, so I do need to write about my struggles, but only so that I can also write about how those those struggles can be alchemized into spiritual and personal growth.
I had written in our class Facebook group:
…As to what I hope to get from River of Words: I'm looking to cultivate more courage to be more comfortable writing about my struggles - I'm conflicted about my tendency of only wanting to shine the light on the good stuff and veer away from the painful bits. On one hand I think it's great to dwell on the positive and not wallow in the negative, but I also understand that it's through being vulnerable and sharing my struggles that readers usually connect more with my writing.
Beth kindly responded in the FB group: Welcome! I hope the course gives you the courage and confidence to share all of it ❤️
And in this week’s online recorded class, Beth read to us some beautiful prose then said, (bolding is mine.)
Those gorgeous words are from Thin Places, Derry writer Kerri ní Dochartaigh’s powerful memoir of the Troubles and her quest for peace. If you are writing memoir I really encourage you to get a copy, it’s gorgeous. In it she beautifully weaves together nature, and memory and difficulty and hope. For years she has been moving, just as a river is always moving, just as our writerly minds are always moving. And I love how Kerri does not shy away from the hard things, but never lingers there too long.
Not shying away from the hard things, but never lingering there too long — this led me to the insight that yes, I do need to write about my struggles but as I’m an alchemist, what’s meaningful for me — and hopefully for you too my dear reader — is for me to also write about how I transformed the challenge and grew from it.
The key: I can touch those hard places, but I don’t have to linger there too long. It’s as though I didn’t know I needed to give myself permission to do this.
And perhaps another key is the balance of the opposites. Writing about both the joy and the pain but not lingering too long in the painful parts. And coming back to center. To equanimity.
And right now, I’m giving myself the permission to linger longer in the parts of beauty. And I justify this to myself because beauty can contain both the joy and the pain.
What a realisation! I think we each have to find our own way to write about the things we want and need to write about, and let go of the rest.
I think writing about our pain is also good in that it helps anyone who’s also going through hard times feel like there’s a way through. Thanks Camilla :)