I’m writing. Hallelujah! It’s been years now since I’ve composed a newsletter, and this is not a newsletter per se, but it is news from me and that’s a start. During the pandemic I became aware that I felt blocked in my creative outlet of writing. Writing is so integral to my well being, self-reflection, and self-expression, that I decided I needed to do something about it. Like many of us during the pandemic I decided to further my education and explore in a new direction. I started a master’s degree course at Metanoia in Bristol on Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes. It’s been 2 years now and a week ago I finished my last weekend of tuition. One more essay to go and then a year of dissertation lies ahead.
It’s been a very powerful experience in many ways. I’ve learned new methods of writing and I’ve explored deeper into some of the known and still potent places in me that need regular revisiting with fresh eyes. I’ve had the experience of sharing my personal, therapeutic, and creative writing with a group of peers for two years and I’ve become convinced of the benefit of writing in a group setting. Similar to Yoga therapy, Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes is an emerging profession that is built on very old methods of human expression. Also like yoga therapy, the primary aim is to promote well being. I find these two ways of feeling and freeing very synergistic and complementary.
Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes (CWTP), or Writing for Well being, is a method of expressive writing in response to varied prompts with uncensored “free writing.” The prompts can be found objects, poems, felt sensations, finishing a sentence stem, or any number of objects, words, ideas or experiences that stimulate an immediate response in us. The focus is on process rather than product so writing has the capacity to surprise us with what comes forth when met with curiosity rather than expectation or criticism. It’s a way to see and explore ourselves, to free ourselves, and to allow the creative well-spring within to flow. Whatever comes comes. Whatever we want to share we can. We can also share our process instead of our written words. I find it fascinating that writing to the same prompt will take each person in the group in their own personal direction which may have some overlap or may be a completely different way to relate to the initial prompt.
To give you an example of a CWTP writing process I’ll share this experience. The picture on this page is a photo of natural objects i collected while walking outside our classroom in Bristol. Using these items of our choice we were guided to write for 15 minutes using the objects to stimulate a response on 3 topics: 1) the course, 2) our group, and 3) our self now at the end of the taught course and looking toward the future. To write about our group I choice the collection of wild flowers I gathered on the path. I wrote:
Each of us growing into our own form,
Sharing the path,
Some in clusters,
Some more solo,
All different,
Yet sharing common components.
Green stem connected to the earth,
Today, waving in the wind,
More diversity present than I gathered.
I felt guilty to pluck them from their source,
Yet I took each and held it gently in my open palm.
I arranged us in rows
As I have so often seen us,
But now gathered together
In the same shared space.
A collection of colours in blossom,
A unity, and unique.
To write about the course I referenced the old and young oak tree leaves. I wrote:
I walked to the edge
and overlooked the ravine.
I took in the natural beauty,
but I looked for a sign.
I was guided by memory,
seeking to find it again, now.
It’s gone missing.
Or been overlaid, replaced, covered up.
I was here before when it was cold winter,
Everything was stark and stripped,
Now the green is rampant mayhem.
I looked for what could stand in for the sign,
The sign that said if you’re standing on this edge,
And you’re looking for a sign
That everything will be alright,
This is it.
And here it was: it’s natural surrogate,
A massive oak, green, but not overgrown.
I took 2 leaves: one fresh, one old,
The passage of growth,
Room for all the phases,
Abundantly resourced
Relentlessly giving.
To write about myself I used a pebble from the front drive. I had used pebbles from this same location as a writing prompt for my first workshop presented to my peers.
I returned to the pebble field
In search of myself.
Something solid, yet split,
Present, with a history
of being transported from somewhere else.
I looked at first for the one that did not fit,
That old family story,
And then I saw the new story –
The sheer array of possibilities –
Which one am I really?
Which one do I choose to hold onto,
And which ones do I let go?
I picked up and put down,
Tried on, the voices and roles,
Eventually I selected
By intuition, a feeling
The white, smooth outer shell,
And inner dark-light punctuated
Softer inner core.
It’s been serrated
And split open.
It’s shed parts of itself
By intercession and erosion,
But still it endures,
Pleasing, revealing, soft and hard,
Whole,
Whole,
Nonetheless.
This Autumn I’ll begin offering Writing for Well being workshops online. In Spring/Summer 2024 I’ll offer integrated yoga and writing retreats in a weekend and week-long format. If you are interested to explore and express what naturally arises in you look for further information about how to join in. Until then, grab a piece of paper and pen, let your gaze land on some objects or a phrase, and start moving your pen.
