For a writer, I've been surprisingly resistant to journaling for years. Letters From Love is the first consistent practice I've had in this area. I think I was just so goal-driven that I wanted all my writing to be FOR something (other than healing I guess, which is probably where it's been the most useful!)
Makes sense, I get that too. My journaling has been all over the place: true journaling, story writing-where something I submitted to an online magazine was published but it initially was just a journal entry, therapeutic style, and diary, and everything in between. I threw all my early journals away, sometimes I wishi still had them. My husband has instructions to burn the ones I've saved-a couple of dozen or more-should something happen to me.
Hi Susan and all the lovely women who've commented. I resonate so deeply with everything that's been shared. I guess what I'm struck by is we are just as never alone as we think we are. It seems grief and trauma are truly universal. For so long I thought I was not only alone but unique. Everyone needed to step back because "you don't understand what happened to me." Mine was worse. I was always comparing mine with yours.
Today I hold it differently. It's been metabolized differently and what I know is that I needed the strength and love of others to walk next to me when I couldn't even crawl. I needed to allow Love in to those crevasses where everything had been shattered, those places where I'd gone and died, stopped breathing, re-shattered myself in so many horrific ways.
I never thought there was a space where I'd be able to exist with it, let alone breathe or live, truly live with it. Never. But oh, there is. Such a place does exist and I still can not believe it. I must share this with those who are still in the depths because when I was there I would have given ANYTHING for someone to tell me that. To just give me THAT one piece of information. There IS another side to it all.
I can't imagine my life without journaling, I think my first one was in 4th grade. It had gold embossed letters on the front that said, "My Diary" and it had a little strap with a lock and key. I loved it! I have been writing ever since and have saved every notebook I've ever journaled in! There is something so powerful that happens when I put pen to paper, every single time.
I'm so grateful to see the similarities in all you beautiful women have shared. ❤️
No doubt, we all experience loss and grief. When we feel the connection to one another and the greater whole, we can’t help but understand we are all in this together.
I've come to the conclusion that we are continually healing from grief and trauma, but I don't think we are ever healed. Not in this lifetime. I think that's okay though. It's helped me be kinder to myself because I don't have an expectation of being "done" or "over" a traumatic event in my life. It's all a work in progress, and I'm good with that.
That's been my experience too. What's so interesting to me is when it does come up it's never in the same way as before, each time it presents differently, or I see it differently or some other aspect of it comes up even tho I've dealt with it in therapy and on my own many times over the decades. Softening is as good as we can hope for with the really traumatic stuff. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts.
It’s so fascinating to me how these traumas we carry stay nestled deep within until they’re ready to surface once again. You’re sifting and sorting… How exciting to be within and on the cusp of these healing and nurturing practices. Love the pic of you. 🥰
I've been sifting and sorting forever it seems, work that is never done because all these past wounds show up in our present day relationships and life. Thanks Joanie, it was taken about two years ago in Santa Fe.
Yes, forever sifting, sorting and following the bread crumb trail. Grateful to have those skilled mentors along the way and places where we may offer our whole selves. I’m with you on that. It’s been a season like that for me as well. Out to dig in my garden where some of my greatest aha’s occur. Xo💜
For a writer, I've been surprisingly resistant to journaling for years. Letters From Love is the first consistent practice I've had in this area. I think I was just so goal-driven that I wanted all my writing to be FOR something (other than healing I guess, which is probably where it's been the most useful!)
Makes sense, I get that too. My journaling has been all over the place: true journaling, story writing-where something I submitted to an online magazine was published but it initially was just a journal entry, therapeutic style, and diary, and everything in between. I threw all my early journals away, sometimes I wishi still had them. My husband has instructions to burn the ones I've saved-a couple of dozen or more-should something happen to me.
Hi Susan and all the lovely women who've commented. I resonate so deeply with everything that's been shared. I guess what I'm struck by is we are just as never alone as we think we are. It seems grief and trauma are truly universal. For so long I thought I was not only alone but unique. Everyone needed to step back because "you don't understand what happened to me." Mine was worse. I was always comparing mine with yours.
Today I hold it differently. It's been metabolized differently and what I know is that I needed the strength and love of others to walk next to me when I couldn't even crawl. I needed to allow Love in to those crevasses where everything had been shattered, those places where I'd gone and died, stopped breathing, re-shattered myself in so many horrific ways.
I never thought there was a space where I'd be able to exist with it, let alone breathe or live, truly live with it. Never. But oh, there is. Such a place does exist and I still can not believe it. I must share this with those who are still in the depths because when I was there I would have given ANYTHING for someone to tell me that. To just give me THAT one piece of information. There IS another side to it all.
I can't imagine my life without journaling, I think my first one was in 4th grade. It had gold embossed letters on the front that said, "My Diary" and it had a little strap with a lock and key. I loved it! I have been writing ever since and have saved every notebook I've ever journaled in! There is something so powerful that happens when I put pen to paper, every single time.
I'm so grateful to see the similarities in all you beautiful women have shared. ❤️
No doubt, we all experience loss and grief. When we feel the connection to one another and the greater whole, we can’t help but understand we are all in this together.
❤️
I've come to the conclusion that we are continually healing from grief and trauma, but I don't think we are ever healed. Not in this lifetime. I think that's okay though. It's helped me be kinder to myself because I don't have an expectation of being "done" or "over" a traumatic event in my life. It's all a work in progress, and I'm good with that.
That's been my experience too. What's so interesting to me is when it does come up it's never in the same way as before, each time it presents differently, or I see it differently or some other aspect of it comes up even tho I've dealt with it in therapy and on my own many times over the decades. Softening is as good as we can hope for with the really traumatic stuff. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts.
It’s so fascinating to me how these traumas we carry stay nestled deep within until they’re ready to surface once again. You’re sifting and sorting… How exciting to be within and on the cusp of these healing and nurturing practices. Love the pic of you. 🥰
I've been sifting and sorting forever it seems, work that is never done because all these past wounds show up in our present day relationships and life. Thanks Joanie, it was taken about two years ago in Santa Fe.
Yes, forever sifting, sorting and following the bread crumb trail. Grateful to have those skilled mentors along the way and places where we may offer our whole selves. I’m with you on that. It’s been a season like that for me as well. Out to dig in my garden where some of my greatest aha’s occur. Xo💜
I love hearing you had such a significant breakthrough, Susan. You are doing the work and it is an honour to witness it.
(I also love that so many friends from LFL have offered their support and love in the comments. What a powerful and beautiful community we are! 💜💙🧡💛💚)
Thank you dear Susan. I’ve thought about that too, most of my friends here I met there. LFL is a community of love through and through. 🌸