Tag Archives: moon cycles

writing as a way of healing [and fullness]

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. -Anne Lamott

 

We must write in a way that links detailed descriptions of what happened with feelings—then and now—about what happened. -Louise DeSalvo, Writing as a Way of Healing

One of the treasures I found while purging re-organizing bookshelves this week was Writing as a Way of Healing by Louise DeSalvo. The first time I read this book it resonated deeply; I was in the midst of holistic and allopathic treatment for ovarian cancer.

“Confronting the chaos of our most difficult memories and feelings … translating them into coherent language can have ‘remarkable short- and long-term health benefits.’ For when we deal with unassimilated events, when we tell our stories and describe our feelings and integrate them into our sense of self, we no longer must actively work at inhibition. This alleviates the stress of holding back our stories and repressing or hiding our emotions, and so our health improves.” p. 24-25

Today is the full moon and the longest day of the summer solstice is in 11 days. I am in the midst of a “depression self-study” via my writing practice and my ICAD art.

uprooting and [re]planting + introducing the summer camp version of Hopscotch Chronicles ★

image from The Garden Awakening by Mary Reynolds

I resist uprooting because, well, I am wildly optimistic. I see possible value in almost anything and everything … And yet, I also believe:

Whenever there’s something in your life that sucks, you are at least partially responsible. It’s no one else’s fault that you feel like shit. … This is your life, and you’re in control of it. So, it’s time to get clear about the role you’re playing in the suckiness. -Gala Darling

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there are no certain routes: when I am wandery

journal-planners with my collages + jots about my business plans + what I think is unfair right now

… you need to keep an honest, unpublishable journal that nobody reads, nobody but you. Where you just put down what you think about life, what you think about things, what you think is fair and what you think is unfair. -Madeleine L’Engle

My journal-planners tether me gently, serving as a means of tracking my start lines as well as my progress. Some entries are unpublished and read only by me; some entries are shared with women with whom I share community, and others shared publicly.
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