Since beginning my first book “From Heart to Head and Back Again … a journey through the healthcare system”, I have found that many thoughts and feelings, wounds and healings, and much more were coming to the surface and I needed an outlet in which to process them all.
As an introvert (an INFJ in MBTI speak, to be specific), who tends to keep much in my own head, more and more I began to feel the need and desire to process and release all that was arising during this book writing adventure.
So one day while sitting at my laptop and looking out at the wildlife of rural Maine, I began to write down all the thoughts that were coming to mind.
It was new and it was different.
And it was also freeing.
But it also didn’t last long.
Soon I found the courage to push even further past my self-limiting beliefs and what was once a peace-filled exercise became a furious no holds barred effort to both capture and free from both my head and from my heart all that this new exploration was surfacing.
It was cathartic and it was painful … both / and … and as the sun set many a time over the next few weeks and many a tear was shed … I realized what I was creating was in fact a form of … poetry.
Yes, rudimentary, and yet full of energy and fire, fear and courage, raw beauty and clunky composition.
But poetry none the less.
And it was healing.
As I continue to write my book …
(NOTE: The first draft was actually completed yesterday)
… I also continue to pen poetry, heal, and learn lessons.
With the most recent lesson coming over the last few days …
I had been writing a poem about loss. And quite frankly I was struggling with it. The prose was just okay and where I was going with it was still muddled in my brain.
And then …
I lost the entire thing.
Somehow after hours of working on the poem it was lost with no back up and thus no way to recover it.
Yes, my poem about loss was lost.
So what did I do?
After breathing in the irony of it all … a lost poem about loss … I began anew.
The power of the feelings of loss were still vivid and now with a blank canvas (to turn a phrase) I was free to move in a different direction.
To explore the loss from a different angle. To test a related and yet tangentially different subject.
And over the next twelve hours a loss became the poem Surrendered sadness, which based on much feedback has touched many a heart.
Yes, a loss has become a blessing.
A muddled idea has become something that has touched another’s heart.
Yes, a new lesson has been learned.
And I am grateful.
I am also grateful for All who are sharing this journey with me.
I am grateful for …
… the encouragement and support.
… the barriers and the pathways.
… the outlets and the lessons.
And I am grateful for all the losses (be they in the past and in the future) which have become or will become the new blank canvas in which to flow tears, expose vulnerabilities, rain joy, and touch hearts.
Life is a Poem and Poetry is Life.
May we all release our inner most Self with Courage and together touch Hearts, bring Light to Darkness and Love to All.
Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
NEXT: The writing discovery