Writing and healing

On 18th March, while sitting on the balcony with this view, I wrote in my notebook,

‘The Teenager is losing himself in playing guitar and I am writing. Both of us going somewhere we feel safe and can retreat into. A private secret place that only we really know. At least we both respect and understand that in each other. I have been watching myself heart riffing during this holiday …I love the way the words form themselves into sentences in my head, sometimes fully formed and sometimes coming out phrase by phrase or clause by clause, neatly, allowing me to build the sentence and the sense as I write. It’s an absolute pleasure and the more I do it the more natural and easy it becomes.’

Ever since Jacqui Malpass, on hearing about my planned trip, encouraged me to write as much as I could while I was away, I had been wondering exactly how to do that. I write almost exclusively on a proper keyboard, whenever I can. I am grateful every day that I learned to touch type as a student, so typing is faster than writing by hand and also allows me to look at the screen and see the words as they appear. Moreover, after a total of six years at university, scribbling in lectures, and several more scribbling furiously in courtrooms and police stations, my handwriting has deteriorated to an unintelligible scrawl. I don’t enjoy putting pen to paper; there is always a sense of urgency and dissatisfaction associated with writing by hand. But a keyboard, a proper keyboard with keys, not a touchscreen, frees me to write as I think. The words come into my head and almost instantaneously they appear on the screen. So what was I going to do while travelling? Take an i-pad? I don’t own one, don’t want one and I can’t get on with touch screens, so that idea didn’t last long. Take my laptop? Well, knowing that we would have so many stops and so much travelling, the thought of managing a laptop as well was really off-putting. So I bought three hard-backed notebooks, spiral bound with butterflies on the covers and decided to write longhand.

I wasn’t sure how it would go. Would I want to write at all? Would I be too concise because I don’t like the action of writing by hand? Would I get home and find I only had a few scribbled bullet points? In fact, I found the writing enjoyable as you can see. It helped to have plenty of free time and not feel pressured to get the words out quickly. It also helped to have lovely surroundings, comfortable balconies and sunbeds to settle down on and warm hands. Oh yes, after a Winter of struggling with the cold and even sometimes wearing fingerless gloves to type, warm hands are really an asset.

The next day, I was clearly still thinking about writing:

‘I have now been away for 10 days and have almost filled a notebook and the writing has been cathartic and powerful and healing and also I am aware that I don’t really know everything I have here. I am looking forward to reading it when I am at home, to taking notes and contemplating and finding out more.’

It is clear from the length and construction of my sentences that I never intended to share, verbatim, what I was writing but now it seems important to have it here, raw and original. Re-reading my notebooks has indeed been helpful, and has informed the posts I have already shared. Having my impressions preserved in writing means that I can cement them further in my experience by reading and re-reading. I can look back and find new meaning with the benefit of a longer perspective. It’s a very important part of the healing for me.

I am so grateful to Jacqui, and also to Lisa Lister, who introduced me to the phrase ‘heart riffing’ and encouraged me to do it, often. This, along with prolific blogging, is how I found my authentic voice. And what I have to add, today, is this:

If you want to write, just write. Don’t think about it, just type a word or scribble something on a page. It doesn’t matter what. Turn off the judgment and let the words flow. I promise that the more you write, the easier it will get. And even if you haven’t thought about writing, try it anyway. A private journal is a wonderful way to work things out, to heal and grow. And you never know what it may grow into, once you get into the habit!