Tuesday, April 24, 2007 at 12:12am
What's in your pocket?
Column: Writing Down Your Soul
As I was driving home from Pilates yesterday, I clicked on NPR's "All Things Considered" and caught a story about specialists who are called in immediately after a disaster to work with the survivors. The reporter was interviewing a trauma specialist who was on the scene at Columbine within 24 hours of the shootings. I could hear doubt and wonder in the reporter's voice: "You are sitting with young people who've just seen their friends die. What do you say? What can you possibly do that will help?"
The therapist answered without hesitation: "We tell them to write. That's the first thing. Just pouring your heart onto the page lets the healing begin."
As I turned the corner, I nodded gently. Yes, the healing begins. It begins with words born in a broken heart that speed recklessly through the wracked body out through clenched fingers and gush onto an empty expanse of blank paper. For some, they start as stumbling scratches; for most, they are a raging river of intense black marks, a river of words desperate to get out. A river once started that cannot be stopped. The words come. And come and come. And as they rush out of the body, word by word, the soul begins to find its way.
The reporter said that classes will convene today, but there will be no academic instruction. Conjugating German verbs would be so meaningless. Instead the trauma specialists will be "teaching." So, this gorgeous spring morning, I visualize rooms packed with students at Virginia Tech. The windows are open and heads are down. I hear the constant scritch of pens and feel the intense energy of focused writing. If this were a different April, they'd be taking German or Biology or Engineering exams. But this year — although they're writing in the same black and white notebooks that students have used for decades to record what they've learned — these students are taking another kind of test, maybe the great test of life: survival. How does one "survive" an experience like that?
No one really knows the answer to that question. Not really. Each person has to find his or her own way. But many wise teachers have shown us how to begin the soul's exploration — write. The Virginia Tech students will write and write, and then, they will write some more. They will tell their stories — stories no human can bear to hear. They will ask their questions and seek their answers. And eventually they will be comforted.
But what about you and me? What do we write about when we're not experiencing an immediate trauma? Sure, we'd like more love, more grace, more blessings, more peace. Yes, we'd like problems solved and relationships healed. But when we pick up a pen, there may at first be silence. We may sit there wondering what's important enough to talk about with the infinite intelligence that guides us all. Perhaps, we're a bit shy or unsure. What's worth talking about? What do we say? How do we begin?
When you sit down to have a conversation with the divine and no words gush forth, what do you do? Well, you can sit quietly and wait. Sometimes that works. Or you can turn to a book, a sacred text perhaps, or anything that's meaningful to you. Bless the book and ask for guidance. Then, let it open where it will. Read the page — sometimes a few sentences will be sufficient — and then start writing about what you read or what it triggered.
Or you can slip your hand into your pocket and pull something out. I don't mean a real pocket, although you might find some interesting stuff in there, too. Remember the last time you put on a coat you hadn't worn in months? Last week it rained, and I put on my old (and I mean old) London Fog trench coat and found a veritable treasure trove in the right-hand pocket: a movie stub from "Million Dollar Baby," a grocery list for a different season, wadded tissue (yuck), and 20 bucks I stuffed in there for a glass of wine after the movie. Guess we never went.
Well, your soul has pockets too, and they're stuffed with the treasures and troubles of your life. There are four things in there.
Go ahead, stick your hand in and poke around. Your fingers will be scratched by some small ragged rocks. These are your fears, the stones of your life, the worries and doubts that weigh you down and keep you from moving forward. How many have you got? Two? Three? Ten? Pull one out — just one — and see what it is. Don't worry, you'll recognize it immediately. Ahhh, this is panic about losing my job. Oooo, this is worry about my daughter's depression. And this painful one? This is the gnawing fear my partner is leaving me.
Rocks. Everybody's got rocks.
What else is in your pocket? Reach back inside and feel all the small, smooth pebbles at the very bottom. Pull a few out and look at them. These aren't pebbles, actually, they're magic beans — your very own "Jack in the Beanstalk" magic beans. Only you haven't planted them. That's why they're still in your soul's pocket. Maybe one is the dream of a photography career, set aside to raise a family. Maybe another is the book everyone tells you to write, or the itch to get back to voice lessons, or the deep desire you've had since childhood to see the pyramids. (But you can't, of course; it's too expensive; we all know that.) Rub your beans. Look at them. How big are they? What colors? What magic do they hold?
Beans. Everyone has beans.
There's something else in there. Reach back in and push the rocks aside. Do you feel them? The little dolls. Tiny 2-inch dolls, complete with head and arms and legs. They're probably a bit scratched up by your rocks. Pull a few out. Who do you have there? Your father? Maybe there are some issues that need to be healed between you. Who else? Your ex? (Can't image what he/she is doing in there!) Your boss? Your partner? Your lover? Your brother? Your friend? Why, it's a small city in there.
People. Everyone's got people populating their pockets.
There's one last thing. You might have to scrounge around in there to find it. Push the rocks and the beans and the people aside until you find it. It's an envelope. Open it. In it is a little card, like a tiny, tiny wedding announcement. But it's blank. There's just a black question mark. This is the question at the core of your soul. What is it you want to know? What is it only Spirit can tell you?
Questions. Every soul has deep, rich questions. We just don't always ask them.
Next time you wonder what to say to Spirit, reach in your pocket and pull something out: rock, magic bean, person, question. You have a lifetime's worth of things to talk about with God in there. And God has a lifetime to listen and respond. Let the words flow. Let your soul explore. Let the healing begin.
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E. (Spiritual Explorer), is the author of the Spiritual Geography series and is currently writing a book on the power of writing to rouse your soul and change your life. The Spiritual Geography books are available through Amazon or Spiritual Geography. Reach Janet at {email janetconner@tampabay.rr.com}janetconner@tampabay.rr.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Janet Conner
The therapist answered without hesitation: "We tell them to write. That's the first thing. Just pouring your heart onto the page lets the healing begin."
As I turned the corner, I nodded gently. Yes, the healing begins. It begins with words born in a broken heart that speed recklessly through the wracked body out through clenched fingers and gush onto an empty expanse of blank paper. For some, they start as stumbling scratches; for most, they are a raging river of intense black marks, a river of words desperate to get out. A river once started that cannot be stopped. The words come. And come and come. And as they rush out of the body, word by word, the soul begins to find its way.
The reporter said that classes will convene today, but there will be no academic instruction. Conjugating German verbs would be so meaningless. Instead the trauma specialists will be "teaching." So, this gorgeous spring morning, I visualize rooms packed with students at Virginia Tech. The windows are open and heads are down. I hear the constant scritch of pens and feel the intense energy of focused writing. If this were a different April, they'd be taking German or Biology or Engineering exams. But this year — although they're writing in the same black and white notebooks that students have used for decades to record what they've learned — these students are taking another kind of test, maybe the great test of life: survival. How does one "survive" an experience like that?
No one really knows the answer to that question. Not really. Each person has to find his or her own way. But many wise teachers have shown us how to begin the soul's exploration — write. The Virginia Tech students will write and write, and then, they will write some more. They will tell their stories — stories no human can bear to hear. They will ask their questions and seek their answers. And eventually they will be comforted.
But what about you and me? What do we write about when we're not experiencing an immediate trauma? Sure, we'd like more love, more grace, more blessings, more peace. Yes, we'd like problems solved and relationships healed. But when we pick up a pen, there may at first be silence. We may sit there wondering what's important enough to talk about with the infinite intelligence that guides us all. Perhaps, we're a bit shy or unsure. What's worth talking about? What do we say? How do we begin?
When you sit down to have a conversation with the divine and no words gush forth, what do you do? Well, you can sit quietly and wait. Sometimes that works. Or you can turn to a book, a sacred text perhaps, or anything that's meaningful to you. Bless the book and ask for guidance. Then, let it open where it will. Read the page — sometimes a few sentences will be sufficient — and then start writing about what you read or what it triggered.
Or you can slip your hand into your pocket and pull something out. I don't mean a real pocket, although you might find some interesting stuff in there, too. Remember the last time you put on a coat you hadn't worn in months? Last week it rained, and I put on my old (and I mean old) London Fog trench coat and found a veritable treasure trove in the right-hand pocket: a movie stub from "Million Dollar Baby," a grocery list for a different season, wadded tissue (yuck), and 20 bucks I stuffed in there for a glass of wine after the movie. Guess we never went.
Well, your soul has pockets too, and they're stuffed with the treasures and troubles of your life. There are four things in there.
Go ahead, stick your hand in and poke around. Your fingers will be scratched by some small ragged rocks. These are your fears, the stones of your life, the worries and doubts that weigh you down and keep you from moving forward. How many have you got? Two? Three? Ten? Pull one out — just one — and see what it is. Don't worry, you'll recognize it immediately. Ahhh, this is panic about losing my job. Oooo, this is worry about my daughter's depression. And this painful one? This is the gnawing fear my partner is leaving me.
Rocks. Everybody's got rocks.
What else is in your pocket? Reach back inside and feel all the small, smooth pebbles at the very bottom. Pull a few out and look at them. These aren't pebbles, actually, they're magic beans — your very own "Jack in the Beanstalk" magic beans. Only you haven't planted them. That's why they're still in your soul's pocket. Maybe one is the dream of a photography career, set aside to raise a family. Maybe another is the book everyone tells you to write, or the itch to get back to voice lessons, or the deep desire you've had since childhood to see the pyramids. (But you can't, of course; it's too expensive; we all know that.) Rub your beans. Look at them. How big are they? What colors? What magic do they hold?
Beans. Everyone has beans.
There's something else in there. Reach back in and push the rocks aside. Do you feel them? The little dolls. Tiny 2-inch dolls, complete with head and arms and legs. They're probably a bit scratched up by your rocks. Pull a few out. Who do you have there? Your father? Maybe there are some issues that need to be healed between you. Who else? Your ex? (Can't image what he/she is doing in there!) Your boss? Your partner? Your lover? Your brother? Your friend? Why, it's a small city in there.
People. Everyone's got people populating their pockets.
There's one last thing. You might have to scrounge around in there to find it. Push the rocks and the beans and the people aside until you find it. It's an envelope. Open it. In it is a little card, like a tiny, tiny wedding announcement. But it's blank. There's just a black question mark. This is the question at the core of your soul. What is it you want to know? What is it only Spirit can tell you?
Questions. Every soul has deep, rich questions. We just don't always ask them.
Next time you wonder what to say to Spirit, reach in your pocket and pull something out: rock, magic bean, person, question. You have a lifetime's worth of things to talk about with God in there. And God has a lifetime to listen and respond. Let the words flow. Let your soul explore. Let the healing begin.
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E. (Spiritual Explorer), is the author of the Spiritual Geography series and is currently writing a book on the power of writing to rouse your soul and change your life. The Spiritual Geography books are available through Amazon or Spiritual Geography. Reach Janet at {email janetconner@tampabay.rr.com}janetconner@tampabay.rr.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Janet Conner