Write Where You Are: Part One - An Audio Book

Write Where You Are,

A book for those who dream of writing but don't know where to begin,

By Junie Swadron.

I hope that you enjoy this book that I am reading.

That is my book and it's a book that if you really want to write but don't know where to begin,

It really is for you.

It offers foolproof and often hilarious solutions to get even the biggest skeptics writing.

So here we go.

Introduction.

Journal entry.

7 45 a.

M.

It's the 22nd of January.

It's raining outside.

The snow melted yesterday and the streets became a sheet of ice.

The first phone call I received this morning came from Jeanette telling me that.

I don't know if I can make the writing group today because the entire street is a skating rink and I'm afraid to drive.

Wendy called next.

Did you hear about the highways last night?

Listen,

I know you have a writing group soon but I just thought I'd tell you the streets are crazy.

Call me later.

The phone rang again.

Joe.

Hi Joe.

I muttered.

Yes,

I know the streets are a sheet of ice and you're not coming.

How did you know what I was going to say?

He sounded surprised because I've been getting a constant stream of weather reports.

Well,

I'm going to try to make it.

I have my trusty umbrella,

Woolen earmuffs,

Gloves,

And galoshes.

Hope to see you soon but you know what it's like around here.

Could turn into a blizzard.

Bye.

When the phone rings again,

The anxiety penetrates my whole body.

Maybe I won't answer it.

Not another call about the weather and who's not coming.

Then I remember to breathe.

I remember my Zen teachings.

Be in the moment.

Unattach.

It's all okay.

I breathe again and then it gets better.

So that journal entry was from many years ago and I admit I wasn't as evolved then.

I wouldn't say I'm enlightened now either but at least I wouldn't be telling my students,

A blizzard?

Big deal.

Risk your life.

Writing's all that matters.

Well,

I wasn't actually saying that,

Was I?

From our point of view for the duration of the pages or this audiobook that you're listening to,

Writing is all that matters.

So get your rain gear,

Snow gear,

Sun gear.

Go to the nearest cafe,

Beach bench,

Or kitchen table and get out your writing gear.

Okay,

Back to the pages of my journal from all those years ago.

It's 9 45 and the buzzer starts ringing and the people start coming and the hum energy in the room is magical and before I know it we're all writing,

We're all connecting,

And the beauty and comfort unfolds.

True.

That's what happens in a sacred circle.

A sacred circle is created through safety.

It's not a critique group as many writing groups tend to be but rather a sacred place where everyone is held in the highest esteem.

There is an acceptance.

It provides a place where even the most hesitant person can read what they've written and learn how it feels to be fully supported wherever they are.

And through this process their voice gets stronger and one day they notice that their voice on the page has become their voice in the world.

Not necessarily in published works but in the way they stand taller,

In the way they feel more confident and know their mind,

And in the way that the child inside knows that she or he matters.

The purpose of this book is to enhance the qualities that happen in a sacred writing circle within your heart.

It also serves as a guide for people who want to facilitate sacred writing circles themselves.

A breathing space that holds and caresses you when you feel weary or delights you when you feel whimsical and dreamy.

A place to take off your shoes,

Remove the societal masks,

And show up just as you are.

Now pour yourself a cup of tea or coffee or whatever happens to be your tipple of choice as I invite you to come home to yourself in the pages of your journal.

Love,

Junie.

Part 1.

What does it mean to write yourself home?

For me it's an expression of writing that originates from deep within your heart and spirit.

Your soul awaits you here.

You only need to step to the side and let the words flow forth.

There's a kindness here,

A beckoning,

A sense of wholeness.

In recognizing that writing is a sacred art,

You learn about self-acceptance and honoring and letting go of self-judgments about how you write.

It's a place of honoring yourself,

The child that lives within you,

And the journey upon which you are about to embark.

This book can be used as a lantern to shed light into the deepest portal of your subconscious mind.

From this place of original thoughts,

Feelings,

And images,

Words are birthed onto the page.

You're simply tapping into what is already there and writing it down.

What is it?

Why is it?

And how is it that when we write where we are in the moment,

It could be about any subject under the sun and then share it with someone who is not judging us,

We feel lighter,

Calmer,

More present,

And somehow more healed.

My students constantly tell me I didn't even know that I felt this way.

It just came out in the writing.

How do you feel,

I ask?

Better.

I feel better.

Sometimes I think it's too simple,

But then I realize that's exactly why it's so powerful,

Because it's that simple.

Writing from where we are in this very moment is a process of truth-telling.

You may be flooded with emotion while you impart how you feel onto the pages.

Sadness or grief?

Perhaps someone dear to you died recently or left town and you miss them beyond measure.

Outrage.

You discover your pearl necklace has gone missing.

Your teenage daughter confesses that she quote borrowed it.

Then she tells you that she left it in Italy by accident when she was there last month with your estranged ex and his new girlfriend.

You live in Texas.

You want to strangle her.

Excitement.

Your lover just called and he bought tickets for a night at the opera.

You adore opera.

Immediately you fantasize about what you will wear.

Undefined emotions.

A guy you knew a million years ago found you on Facebook and wants to quote catch up with you.

You swore you would never give him the time of day after he left you suddenly without even a goodbye.

You marry Thomas right afterward and only you know that your heart never healed.

What do you do?

This is where your journal can show off its magic.

If you write through the process of allowing,

Not trying to dictate the outcome,

Your answers will become clear.

Does this happen every time?

Not necessarily.

But for me,

Something always shifts when I write it down.

So if it's whirling around inside your head,

Right where you are,

Don't embellish or deny.

Just say it the way it is.

Of course you can make it up as you go along,

Which is what Creative License is all about.

However,

When it comes to real emotions,

It's best that you name it the way you feel it.

Why keep disturbing thoughts and feelings sifting around in your stomach?

Instead,

Why not drop them onto the page to be honored or,

Conversely,

Crunched up and tossed into the garbage pail instead of causing a stomach ache and,

Over time,

An ulcer?

Just write and see where it takes you.

Then move on.

Moving on could be wearing your sexy red chiffon dress to the opera or grounding your daughter for a year or meeting that beau from 30 years ago,

Only to have your original suspicions confirmed.

He is still charming,

Convincing,

And dangerous.

When you release onto the page what you genuinely feel without judging,

Exaggerating,

Or editing,

You leave room for clarity.

Also,

In time,

And sometimes even as you put down your pen,

You'll have a sense of spaciousness that wasn't there before.

I have facilitated writing groups for over two decades.

I called the first one Write Where You Are.

This is akin to free-flow,

Stream-of-consciousness journal writing,

The essence of which this book is all about.

And once you grasp the process,

Which is easy as pie,

If you like pie,

You can then apply it to whatever you choose to write,

Fiction,

Nonfiction,

Poetry,

Blogs,

Business reports,

And academic papers,

Etc.

Excuse me,

You may ask.

Free-flow,

Stream-of-conscious writing and business reports and academic papers?

Get real.

Absolutely.

Give it a fresh,

Personal,

Creative approach so that the reader doesn't get bored to tears,

Nor the writer for that matter.

So what makes me a self-proclaimed authority,

Especially when my shrink asks suspiciously,

You what?

You want to facilitate writing groups?

Do you have credentials?

Wouldn't that take a hell of a lot of chutzpah?

As soon as those mean words left his lips,

My faint heart fell onto the cold,

Lonesome ground,

Only to get buried there and trampled on for eternity.

I saw people gathering around the mound,

Placing their prayers and flowers upon it while he enlightened them with his poetry.

Luckily,

He took me out of that trance with his next words.

Junie,

He declared with conviction,

I say,

Go for it.

Oh,

He was a jokester,

All right,

But not very funny.

One more minute and I would have needed resuscitation.

Anyway,

Luckily,

My overstimulated imagination got redirected to a higher purpose and I did go for it,

And I've been a writing coach ever since.

Back to Write Where You Are.

Why did I name my classes and this book,

You may have noticed,

Write Where You Are?

Well,

For sure,

It's a cutesy phrase.

How do you spell cutesy?

I'm getting a red line under the word and on my computer.

Wait,

I'll check.

Spell check.

Darn,

It only shows up cutesy,

Cutesier,

Whatever that is,

And curtsied.

Okay,

I'll check the thesaurus.

Geez,

It says no results found.

After all that,

It's not even a word.

Now I'm frustrated.

I bet you're wondering why I'm verbalizing my frustration about not finding the right spelling or even that the word exists.

Well,

Since I'm convinced that you're asking that question,

I'm happy to give you the answer.

It's because I just committed the first no-no rule in free flow,

Stream of conscious,

Let it rip writing,

Which you can tell this is.

The number one cause for throwing in the towel that I've observed in would-be writers is that they stop themselves outright,

Sometimes in the very first paragraph.

If they are true perfectionists,

They'll stop by the end of the first line,

Which I just illustrated.

Not a reflection of myself,

Of course,

Just mentioning it for teaching purposes.

Okay,

Busted.

Well,

I'm not the only one.

You're busted too.

If you say that the following is foreign to you,

You write something and then you say to yourself,

Hmm,

This doesn't look right.

I better check spelling.

Actually,

Maybe I should use a different word,

More sophisticated perhaps.

Oh,

I can't believe I was about to write that.

Thank God I stopped myself.

What if I die before dinner and my journal sitting on the coffee table?

They'll think I've written my suicide note and will read it.

If I were alive,

I'd be mortified.

Am I close?

If this seems even vaguely familiar,

This is where editing as you write,

Which is absolute no-no,

Will make your ego throw a party.

Screw this,

It'll say.

I'm out of here.

So you burn your journal and you go dancing.

My recommendation would be to scribble all that down first and then go dancing.

Oh,

And hide your journal under your mattress before you go.

I can't imagine anyone would ever think to look there.

Wink,

Wink,

Nod,

Nod.

But what if it's true that you really are fed up with what does or doesn't come out of your pen and you absolutely want to ditch the writing,

Check your emails,

Go to the mall,

Eat a chocolate bar,

Or catch the next flight to Vegas to gamble away your savings?

I can tell you with confidence there are probably as many reasons,

Excuses,

To stop writing as there are blocked writers.

What's the antidote?

Simple,

Write.

Does this surprise you?

Of course not.

You knew I was going to say that,

Right?

Write.

W-R-I-T-E.

That's the only thing that will move you beyond your excuses.

When you want to lose weight,

You stay away from the fridge.

When you want to learn skydiving,

You show up the hanger.

When you want to write,

You keep your pen on the page or keyboard and keep your hand moving.

Well,

In the creative process,

Which is every time you sit down at your writing table,

Except when you deliberately go there to edit,

You let it have its way with you.

That means you don't give a hoot about how the word is spelled or whether it fits in that particular paragraph or the next one down or whether so-and-so will like it or whether it would be better to use a semicolon instead of a period.

Do hide it though and maybe in a better place than under the mattress.

That's about it.

You're ready to write.

Don't panic.

We'll start slow.

Here are the instructions.

Grab a pen,

Set your timer for five minutes.

No cheating.

Five minutes.

Easy peasy.

And no editing as you go.

Here's the topic.

Today the sun is shining and my dog went for a walk without me.

Now,

It could be a blazing blizzard outside where you are,

Which would definitely cause concern for your dog.

Or it's 2 a.

M.

And you can't sleep,

Which is why you're here with your pen and paper ready.

And it doesn't matter if you don't have a dog.

In this exercise you begin your piece with the sun is shining and my dog went for a walk without me.

Okay,

Timer set.

Don't stop before it goes off and you must promise not to look ahead.

All right,

Two,

Go.

Buzzz,

Ding dong,

Pssst.

Time's up.

Put that pen down.

I can't believe I said that.

Ignore me.

Keep writing if you're on a roll.

Okay,

So here's what I wrote.

The sun is shining and my dog went for a walk without me.

I could have sworn I was holding on to the leash with Munchkin on the end of it while talking to Sally Graves who brings the mail.

We meet up at the same time every day,

11 a.

M.

It's just right for Munchkin and me.

He's already programmed in the time and doesn't even wait till she's at the door,

I swear.

He senses her at the end of the block coming this way and he's at the door barking and wagging his tail.

Sally Graves starts telling me that she and her new guy are moving in together and are looking for a new place.

He complained about how crowded he felt in her missy place and she complained about how she goes nuts in his pristine living quarters where she's afraid to eat in case a crumb drops on the floor but apparently compatible in every other way.

They are searching for new digs but in Africa where she lived as a kid.

It was on his bucket.

Time's up,

Five minutes.

So how did you do?

Don't say you didn't do it and if you didn't then go back and do it.

Until then you cannot pass go and cannot collect $200 or 200 pounds,

Rupees,

Shekels or pesos or have dessert before dinner.

If you did write for the last five minutes then congratulations.

Say to yourself I did it.

Now get up and do the happy dance.

I'm serious because if you're not accustomed to writing and there's a good chance that that's why you're reading this bestseller then the thing is you wrote and that's fantastic,

Seriously.

However if you said to yourself yeah I wrote but it sucks,

It doesn't count.

I'll have to relegate you to the back of the class where I've installed my foolproof I love myself simulator machine.

Once you step inside you immediately get fast tracked to my signature program in radical self-loving.

You will step out 10 timeless minutes later egoless without a trace of fear of self-doubt left.

Only love and confidence remain.

Not bad hug oops I meant to say huh come here let me give you a hug before you go.

Back to writing.

The rule is even though I intimated that there are none there's this one absolutely no judging the writing in your journal.

None.

Full stop,

Non-negotiable,

End of story.

Take my five minute writing piece for example.

You may have noticed that it has a whole bunch of run-on sentences,

A slew of missing commas.

Well you can't know hearing this but if you buy my book you'll see it or maybe someone will gift it to you.

So back to a whole bunch of run-on sentences,

A slew of missing commas or periods and spelling mistakes.

I never did find out where Munchkin went off to or whether I ever saw him again or Sally Graves for that matter since she was taking off with her new guy to Africa.

And that's how it works.

You just write.

It's not about good,

Bad,

Right or wrong.

It's just the way it is and that's what makes journal writing so enchanting.

And the same goes for any kind of writing that calls for imagination and unlimited wordplay or simply telling your truth.

Instead of a critical mind akin to bumper cars crashing into each other at the country fair leaving you battered and bruised you get to rest your heart on the page with your words without any concern for how they show up.

Now back to why I call my classes Right Where You Are and this book.

This is more than just a play on words which could be considered cutesy however you spell it but the truth is it's all about being in the present moment which we've all heard plenty about.

You cannot live in this era and not have heard or hopefully experience mindfulness and the power of being in the moment.

It's the same for writing.

When we write where we are in this present moment our energy comes alive and the words that free fall onto the page are ecstatic because they're being liberated.

This holds true even when you write about something that happened 20 years ago because it's your relationship to it right now that matters and writing will show you what matters even when you yourself are not sure.

Why?

Because the truth always comes to the surface when we ask our ego to step to the side.

Oh that disgusting ego again.

That awful part of us addicted to being right rather than happy and that insists on making us sweat the small stuff.

How's that for a bunch of cliches?

Writing tip.

If you come back to your journals to extract passages to edit for other purposes try to find metaphors rather than cliches.

Just saying.

Back to the ego.

At some point it is wise to befriend this evil gremlin but for now let's just send the monster to a 12-step program for letting go of control or have love and compassion for him or her.

That's another lesson though and a stretch.

If you truly want to learn how you can book a therapy appointment with me or much advised and cheaper take out your journal and write your thoughts about it.

You'll find your answers on the page.

I only pretend to have them for you and then charge you for it.

Good gig huh?

Anyway here's what Natalie Goldberg says about little beasties in her famous book Writing Down the Bones which is worth buying in my opinion and cheaper than hiring me.

Tell her I said that and maybe I'll get a commission.

You think?

Okay.

Trouble with the Editor by Natalie Goldberg.

Quote.

It's important to separate the creator and the editor or internal sensor when you practice writing so that the creator has free space to breathe,

Explore,

And express.

If the editor is absolutely annoying and you have trouble differentiating it from your creative voice sit down whenever you need to and write what the editor is saying.

Give it full voice.

You're a jerk.

Whoever said you could write?

I hate your work.

You suck.

I'm embarrassed and you have nothing valuable to say and besides you can't spell.

Sound familiar?

The more clearly you know the editor the better you can ignore it.

After a while like the jabbering of an old drunk fool it becomes just prattle in the background.

Don't reinforce its power by listening to its empty words.

If the voice says you're boring and you listen to it and stop your hand from writing that reinforces and gives credence to your editor.

That voice that knows the term boring will stop you dead in your tracks and you'll hear yourself saying that a lot about your writing.

Here you are boring as distant white laundry flapping in the breeze.

Eventually it will dry up and someone miles away will fold it and take it in.

Meanwhile you will continue to write.

" End of quote.

This book is all about that.

Mine that is.

The one you're listening to right now.

It will help you to use writing as a tool to express both your creativity as well as heal your heart.

When you don't judge what you write you will be set free which is akin to healing your heart.

The practices in Write Where You Are will teach you how to use writing as a self-awareness tool to foster understanding,

Reduce stress,

And access insight and wisdom.

And it's to show you a safe place to go with the things that you may not know how to express otherwise.

It will help you to move blocked energy and breathe gently into new beginnings as you discover who you are.

Helping you to make sense of your life.

Giving you direction,

Purpose,

And clarity.

From this you will see unlimited uses for your journal as well as unlimited results.

Become open to the possibility that your entries will astound you.

Where your deepest grief becomes a story filled with pain and courage that helps to heal your heartbreak.

Or a poem that you send to a love interest that opens his heart to loving you back.

And he arrives at your door and proposes and you move to his sailboat and cross the seas to romantic vistas and live happily ever after.

Sorry,

I got caught up in my own daydream.

Whatever,

You get the point.

Consider yourself a storyteller of the events in your life.

Look at each with the eye of a curious child instead of the eyes of a critic.

When you do you will discover that your journal has become your very best friend.

Our mothers,

Partners,

Counselors,

And best mates are not always available when we want them,

But our journal will be.

Patiently it waits for us to feed it and doesn't tell us it's starving because we haven't fed it in months.

Nor does it tell you it's suffocating in the drawer that you stuffed it in or buried under a dozen books on the table.

No,

It's completely loyal.

You may desert it,

But it will never desert you.

You can tell it the same things over and over again and it will never say in all sarcasm,

You've already said that a thousand times,

Get over it already.

You can rage onto its pages and it will remain equally non-judgmental.

Well,

It may cry out in terror,

Please don't rip me up or set me on fire.

Huh,

That's not even funny.

I don't know who wrote that,

It wasn't me,

I would never.

Honestly,

It must be an evil entity that took over my hand on the keys just now.

Another thing that Natalie Goldberg says is that we should keep our hand moving and write quickly so that the mean gremlin,

In this case,

Nasty entity,

Can catch up to us and say evil things.

Okay,

The real truth,

And I know about these things,

Is that your journal is like your guardian angel.

With care it holds you in its folds and caresses you while you speak your pain,

Your poetry,

Your love,

And your truth.

I was fortunate enough to discover the benefits of a diary when I was but a young girl,

Long before the term journaling became part of the popular vernacular.

My mother never said,

Junie,

Go to your room and write in your journal,

It'll make you feel better.

But luckily I found it out on my own anyway,

And it became my safe haven in a world that often didn't feel safe.

That little red diary,

With its tiny lock and key,

Became my refuge,

My private sanctuary,

And a place to hide out,

Yet not feel alone.

It came unbidden,

The words just flowed from my heart,

Becoming a meditation on the page,

Often restoring me to sanity.

Over the years it's become my lifeline,

My love line,

My way out of the wilderness.

I would open a page and it seemed as if a benevolent presence sat there with me,

While I emptied whatever I felt onto the blank sheets.

In time I came to believe that a sacred,

Unseen companion waited patiently to guide my hand and help heal my soul.

Will writing a journal do this for you?

I don't know.

There is,

However,

An excellent chance of it,

Along with a whole bunch of other good stuff,

And you won't know until you make space for it in your life.

I believe each of us needs a private place where we can express ourselves without censorship or judgment,

Or someone telling us it's wrong,

Impolite,

Unforgiving,

Or something else.

Each of us needs somewhere to unburden ourselves,

On our own,

And know it's completely safe to do so.

Also,

It's so important to simply have a welcoming friend,

No matter what state we're in.

My objective for writing this book is to show you what I discovered so long ago,

How your diary,

Your journal,

Or whatever name you wish to give it can be your best buddy for life.

And you will find that freestyle journal writing often spills into creative writing in every genre.

Julia Cameron's morning pages was fodder for her famous book The Artist's Way.

After wrestling for weeks in my journal,

Anguished from yet another hospitalization for depression,

Part of a revolving door caused by bipolar disorder,

Soul messages from my pen implored me to tell my story,

Which one year later birthed my play Madness,

Masks,

And Miracles.

And I can tell you,

When the messages came through,

I was too busy writing them to worry about them being grammatically correct.

How refreshing it is to toss out old rule books.

No one cares if you can't spell out cutesy.

It won't matter where you start your sentences or where you finish off.

And it doesn't matter if you doodle in between paragraphs.

It doesn't matter how you do it.

You can't make a mistake.

You can't be a good writer.

You can't be a good writer.

How you do it.

You can't make a mistake.

When there's no wrong or right,

You can only get it right.

Yet don't feel surprised that even after I tell you this,

You will still want to do it perfectly.

It's just what we creatures of habit do.

Here's the scenario.

You're going to take out your journal and your wonder.

First,

Hmm,

Is it the right size?

Perhaps I should have bought a smaller one.

One without lines so I could draw one I don't You'll begin to write and you wonder if you should have started there.

You forge on and your mind will want to go somewhere else.

You'll fight with it to stay on topic,

But it'll become laborious.

So you throw your hands up in the air and shout,

Whose idea was this anyway?

Everyone says it's so easy,

But it's not working for me.

I knew it.

I might as well give up.

And then you do.

You'll leave frustrated and unfulfilled and wonder what all the hype about writing is.

Next you grab your jacket and go golfing.

How do I know this to be true more often than not?

Because I've been a writing coach for over two decades and the biggest common denominator that would be writers hold is the lack of confidence,

Which I see over and over again.

Unfortunately,

It's far more natural to criticize ourselves than compliment.

It's easier to quit than keep on going and seeing what unfolds.

So if you find yourself doing this,

Even after I tell you that there are no rules,

Don't get discouraged.

I'm sending you back to that trusty I love myself simulating machine.

You will come out writing and not give a hoot about what's traveling out of your pen.

You'll be too busy writing.

The key is that you stop being attached to any outcome.

And that's when it becomes fun,

Which is totally worth waiting for.

That's when it becomes a way of life.

You sit down to write and you write.

It's just a journal.

It's for your eyes only.

It's not going to be juried by the Booker Award.

It's your journal and writing in it can be your freedom,

Your key to freedom,

Just like anything.

At first it takes practice.

Then it's like getting up and brushing your teeth.

You don't think about how to do it,

You already know how.

And when writing becomes that for you,

You'll notice a shift in your life.

You will see that things are working out better.

You'll observe that your voice on the page has become stronger.

Even if a few days later you change your mind about what you said and a new truth emerges,

That's okay.

In fact,

It's what happens when we write from our authentic voice.

We move the energy around instead of staying stuck in it.

We find a healthier,

Newer way to relate to the situation.

Clarity emerges.

New life energy emerges.

Strength,

Confidence,

And self-love show up.

As you continue to write,

Don't let it surprise you when you achieve things that you never thought possible.

If you're an adult listening to this,

Hold your hand on your heart and say to your little girl or boy in there,

It's safe to come out,

Honey.

Even though stupidness so-and-so in grade 6 scratched lines,

Red lines,

Through your beautiful compositions,

I won't let that happen ever again.

I'm not going to criticize you or judge you.

I'm not going to tell you that you can't write.

You can write whatever and however you like.

I'm here to embrace you,

Love you,

Be kind to you,

And give back the voice you never had.

I love you,

My beautiful little child,

And I want you to help teach me everything I've forgotten.

After I abandoned my inner child for most of my life,

I hungered for my little girl inside to trust me.

I took on a ridiculous never-end to-do list and trampled the creativity right out of her.

I still have a huge to-do list,

But I also take time to listen to her needs more than I used to.

She knows that she can say whatever she wants.

On the page,

I let her have her way with me,

And when I neglect her needs,

Oh boy,

Does she ever get mad.

I get embarrassed,

And we have a truce.

I walk down to the beach and let her sing to the mermaids and the unicorns to her heart's desire.

This is how the simulator works,

To tell you the truth.

The more I listen to my heart,

My inner child,

My still small voice,

The voice I rest on my page,

Or build into the echo chambers of my sandcastles,

Then the more faith I have in life.

My journal brings my lost parts back home again.

My reclaimed voice sets me free.

So once again,

Get your rain gear,

Snow gear,

Sun gear,

Go to the nearest cafe,

Beach,

Bench,

Or kitchen table,

And get out your writing gear.

Write and enjoy.

Juni.

Number two.

Why some people hate to write and would rather do anything else,

Including eating bugs for breakfast,

Stay adrift at sea,

Or invite your in-laws,

Who wish their son or daughter,

You decide,

Had married someone else to move in with you.

In this section,

You may think you have died and gone to heaven because you're not singing solo.

You have been cast in an international choir,

Dissident perhaps,

But at least you know you're not alone.

If you recognize yourself in any of the following scenarios,

Don't go AWOL on me.

I would never leave you in your discomfort.

I have solutions.

You know how sometimes you have to swallow the same poison in order to acquire enough antibodies to fight what you're trying to avoid?

I'm not a doctor,

But seriously.

However,

Since I couldn't think of a different example,

I'll settle for this one.

Consider the following solution as the antidote for your disdain of writing.

And luckily for you,

One size fits all.

Drum roll,

Please.

Ta-da!

I know by now you have caught on to the fact that I'm redundant and predictable.

And I'm proud of you for it.

And I'm proud of me,

Too,

Because this is a tried and trued method.

Even at the risk of being redundant and predictable,

I don't give up easily.

In fact,

It's not easy being me,

Trying to convince you how easy writing is when you hate it and would rather be doing anything else.

And if you're beyond that,

If what you're listening to or what you actually heard in part one convinced you and you're miles ahead,

Well,

Then you don't need this section.

It could stop you.

However,

For those who are continuing,

Each yucky condition stated,

That I'm about to state,

Is followed by a writing exercise that allows you to exercise the feelings that come up right afterwards.

Exorcize,

E-X-O-R-C-I-Z-E.

So whatever those are,

We're going to be able to let go of them.

They're nice exercises,

Though.

I believe that you'll like them.

They get right to the point,

Something I'm not known for.

By now,

You probably want to tear your hair out or are ready to acquiesce just to get it over with.

Humor me.

Do the latter.

Or are you cursing me,

Saying,

What does she think?

I'm a moron?

I hate writing.

And her way of solving the situation is to write?

Who's the moron here?

Good.

You're starting to get it now.

Write it down.

Back to the choir you may be singing in.

Reason some people hate to write and would rather do anything else.

Shame.

One of the most common reasons that some people would rather do anything else than write is because they were shamed in school.

Their essays or short stories got marked up with red pens.

They got criticized for poor spelling.

Told their ideas weren't original.

They had lots to learn about grammar,

And on and on it went.

All they learned was that to write,

They had to be perfect.

Imagine a toddler getting ridiculed for not pronouncing his first words correctly if he said mema instead of mama.

Would you let him know in so many words that he's an idiot?

That's ludicrous.

Yet it happened to many innocent children after they wrote their first compositions filled with imagination and handed them in for the teacher to mark.

They were shamed for their spelling mistakes and the fact that this sentence should have been followed by that one and since when are trees aquamarine.

Shame still plagues many adults from their youth for being told they weren't doing it right.

Worse it turned them into perfectionists.

And even if it wasn't about writing,

Say they were criticized when they were singing or painting or woodworking.

That just became one more thing that they believed they couldn't do.

I've had countless adults tiptoe tentatively into my classes and bring with them all the courage they could muster because that is exactly what happened to them decades earlier.

Yes,

Shame still plagues many adults from their youth for being told they weren't doing it right.

Writing exercise.

If you've had that experience,

Now is your chance to toss out etiquette and spill your beans.

Are you angry?

Or have you stuffed it down so long that you feel numb?

This is your opportunity to reclaim your voice.

This is the one of those times when your voice on the page can become your voice out in the world.

Perhaps it's a voice you've kept hidden all your life.

Well,

It's time to step into the light.

In fact,

The limelight.

Your long past due.

First you have to take back your power.

You have every right to feel furious.

Get your anger onto the page.

The same goes for frustration,

Numbness or shame that you've carried all these years from someone's ignorant comments.

Write where you are right now.

Numb?

You can start with,

I don't even feel it anymore.

You did such a good job at shaming me,

I lost my confidence about most things.

Even the thought of writing in a journal.

No one would even read makes me queasy.

Thanks one hell of a lot,

You mean friggin' jerk.

How dare you?

Who were you to do that to me?

You wrecked my life.

Now you're getting it.

You're tossing out politeness.

You're going,

Keep going.

As you imagine how that child or teenager in you must have felt.

Feel compassion for your younger self and let him or her have their day in court.

Say it all.

Oh,

And although you might feel,

It might feel tempting,

Do not send it to your teacher or anyone else.

The memories of which evoke these kinds of feelings in you.

Assuming he or she still is in the land of the living.

You've had enough repercussions already.

However,

You can go first class in your imagination.

See him or her sitting in a chair in front of the class,

Wearing a dunce hat and balancing a pickle on his or her nose and take it from there.

After you've said it all,

Go out and do something fun.

Take that kid in you to the dollar store and get color stickers to put in your journal that say you aced it kid.

Or much better,

Go skiing to the top of Mount Everest and declare to the world,

I did it.

I finally told her off.

Or go to a karaoke club and sing my way.

Or whatever you fancy at the top of your lungs.

Don't worry about keeping the beat.

You're dancing to the rhythm of your drum now.

Then someday when you're daring to come to one step further and the child inside feels safe,

You can write a different scenario,

Like this one perhaps.

Imagine being in front of your teacher now that you have reclaimed your power.

You feel centered,

Calm,

Confident and clear.

Imagine stating how it felt when he or she did that,

How it affected your life.

Imagine your teacher listening with his or her heart and telling you their story.

In fact,

What is incredibly effective and worth the time is to write a letter back to yourself from your teacher,

Whom you have imagined has indeed learned a lesson or two,

Has transformed and evolved and is expressing just that.

The wounded child in you couldn't hear it often enough.

However,

Don't leap too soon into forgiveness.

First,

Let yourself express everything you felt.

Give your wounded child its full voice.

This is my letter.

Miss Simmons,

How could you?

How could you have been my teacher?

A teacher?

To little kids?

Did you have any idea what you did to us?

Did to me?

I hate you for it.

Okay,

I've gone beyond it now,

But does it make it right?

No.

I'll never condone your horrible,

Despicable behavior.

Teachers are supposed to model kindness and compassion,

Hone confidence in the students they teach,

Help them with the tough subjects and make them feel okay even if they screw up.

Make learning fun.

Not you,

You bully,

You despicable bully.

I was only 11 years old.

Eleven for God's sakes.

Did you have any idea what was happening to me at home?

Do you have any idea that school was going to be my escape?

School was not just a prison.

It was a torture chamber.

You hated me and you made it known every single day.

You shamed me again and again in front of my classmates.

When my marks were the lowest and you made that call,

You failed me over and over again.

You would hand out the papers letting everyone know that I had a D or an E as an example of what happens when you don't pay attention.

You were a hideous and hilarious too,

Demanding that we both stay after school.

You hovered over us with a smirk on your face,

Shouting that we were stupid,

That we were a disgrace and that you would fail us.

And you did.

You did.

I went home on the last day of school with a great big red failed scribbled across my report card.

Oh,

God,

I can imagine your smug satisfaction when you did that.

You have no idea how you wrecked my life by the shame I carried for decades.

How insecure I became.

How I wore a million masks to hide the humiliation,

Believing I was stupid.

I was terrified to give my opinion about anything.

The only thing that comforted me was my little red diary with its lock and key.

Miss Simmons,

You had an opportunity to make life a little easier for me with kindness,

With patience and compassion.

It was something that would make me not want to run away forever or still the relentless voices in my head that constantly put myself down no matter how hard I tried.

Even later at university,

I was convinced that they made a mistake whenever I got an A or a B.

It's been over half a century since I was lectured and bullied by you,

Since I felt sickened every morning when I woke up and had to trudge to school across the creek to Bakerest Avenue Public School.

Lots of days I simply stayed at the creek watching the baby frogs leaping up and down the banks and the tadpoles swimming without a care in the world.

Oh,

I knew I'd pay big time for playing hooky,

But I couldn't help it.

Facing you was so much worse.

Now,

Over fifty years later,

Do you have something you want to say to me,

Miss Simmons?

Dear Junie,

Words can't make it better,

But if they could I would tell you how sorry I am.

If I could do it over,

I would take you in my heart and offer you love and compassion.

Of course I saw your pain.

Of course I saw how frightened you were.

And it pleased me to lash out at you.

And I'm so ashamed.

I had my own struggles and unhealed pain,

And it was my way to take it out on the beautiful children who came to me to educate them,

Encourage them,

And teach them in a way that would feel good about themselves.

But this isn't about me,

It's about you,

Dearest Junie.

I remember you.

And I remember how horrible I was to you.

And I'm so very,

Very sorry.

Thank you for coming to me so many years later to call me on what I did to you.

I can't take it back.

I'm only happy and grateful that you moved on,

That somehow along life's path you were able to move beyond the horrors of your young life,

Which I was a big part of,

And make a good life for yourself.

Later,

After giving myself breathing space to integrate this visceral experience,

I wrote a brief letter of forgiveness so I could close the door on this chapter.

Dear Miss Simmons,

I am sorry too for whatever happened to you in your life that made you be that way.

I hope you have since forgiven yourself and have found peace in your heart.

I forgive you,

Junie.

Below I list more reasons that some people hate to write and would rather do anything else.

Afraid of thoughts and feelings and just want to be nice,

Like me.

Everyone judges,

Even on the page.

Admittedly,

Me too.

But if you dare tell anyone,

I'll judge you for it.

We judge other people,

And we judge ourselves.

Mostly,

Our judgments originate from the people who shamed us in the first place,

And we end up thinking that we can never do anything right.

Oops,

I meant right.

I spelt that W-R-I-T-E,

But I meant R-I-G-H-T.

See,

I could go to town on that one if I let myself.

I could imagine you laughing at me.

Lookie here,

She's the writing teacher and she just screwed up.

But luckily,

I refused to take that road to town unless it's to buy a new dress.

Caffeta.

Retro.

I spent most of my life putting myself down and couldn't help projecting those put-downs onto others.

Until eventually I stopped.

How did I do it?

With lots of therapy.

And lots of journaling.

Our journals provide the safest place to judge,

Bitch,

And state everyone's faults,

Starting with our own.

Yep,

You can judge until you have nothing to judge anymore because,

In spite of yourself,

Telling it like it is unwittingly helped you heal your wounds.

One day you notice that you simply weren't complaining.

If you find your life too boring or you can fake it now and again for old time's sake,

On the page.

In the meantime,

If that's not where you are,

Don't worry,

Your journal is singing,

Bring it on,

I got a strong spine.

Ha ha.

Get it?

Anyway,

Try to suspend judgment,

That word again,

And write anyway.

And when you do,

I caution you not to cover up your less than loving opinions with flowery words to make it sound pretty and poetic because you want to make it nice.

Oh,

I know a lot about that.

And spiritual.

I know a lot about that too.

Isn't it true that nice people and spiritual people don't get mad?

If they're still in their body,

There's a damn good chance they do.

That's a whole other conversation.

Regardless,

If you succeed and cover up your angst,

Rage,

Regret,

Sorrow,

Confusion with sweetness,

Then nothing will have shifted for you.

And you'll still get that ulcer I spoke about somewhere in this book.

You'll find yourself and that part of you that can hardly breathe withdrawing because your self betrayal chokes your voice.

Or you could find yourself continuing to complain until there's no one there to listen anymore.

Remember,

Your journal will always listen and never take it personally.

And if you think it might take it personally just because it's glaring at you,

Write on to ease your guilt.

Writing exercise.

Check in with yourself.

What irks you right now?

Even if it happened 26 years ago and it's still swimming around in your liver where rage is stored,

Let it out,

Scribble,

Scream,

Cry,

And release.

It takes you a while to get in touch with whatever you have buried there.

Simply begin recording what happened from your memory,

Right at the way you remember it.

And unless a bear attacks you while you're reading this,

Your upset is not about now.

It's something that happened already.

You survived it.

You can heal it.

Purge it onto the paper.

Then go for a refreshing walk.

Take munchkin with you.

You might even meet up with Sally Graves and her boyfriend if you happen to be in Africa.

Be brave,

Be honest,

Write fear word beyond your cunning editor,

And see where it takes you.

Betrayal.

Afraid someone will discover what you wrote and read it.

This can be a legitimate fear when you're writing a journal or anything else meant for your eyes only.

You want to protect it because it's sacred.

The writings you produce are your baby's and protecting them is cherishing your innocent,

Tender,

And creative voice.

If you think someone will have read what you've written or will read what you write,

It will inhibit you and you will stop your writing.

On the first page of your journal,

You can write,

Please do not read this.

Put it down.

It's personal.

Or if you really mean business,

Take out the please.

Instead write,

Put it down now in caps.

Or if you want to be more bold,

Scribe,

Read at your own risk.

It could certainly be risky to the reader if you're disgruntled by her or him and have written all about it.

After all,

Once you got her out of your system,

You could have a totally different perspective.

You may even see your hand in the debate.

The person reading your journal wouldn't see that part because you took off to the garden to water your flowers and count your blessings,

Knowing you don't need to bring up the subject ever again.

But she will.

Unburnt toast mixed with a basket of weeping willows,

Branches,

And dead roses.

One tip.

Do not leave your journal on the coffee table or exposed anywhere else for that matter.

If you do,

You can cancel your plans to see the latest award-winning drama.

You may be starring in the one you've just written with,

With the ready-made cast of unsavory,

Vengeful characters.

Can't spell or haven't a clue about proper grammar and punctuation.

I've touched on this already,

But I'm saying it again because it's a fact.

Journal stop themselves from writing because of poor spelling,

Punctuation,

And grammar more than you can imagine.

I urge you,

Do not go there.

Journal writing is about getting it down.

Full stop.

Goodbye.

Sarnara.

The end.

Throw out your perfectionist tendencies.

My advice,

Whether you do this with cleaning your house until it glows in the dark or wringing your hands until they do,

It's likewise.

Writing this way will make your brain go sterile.

You'll kill all the antibodies desperately trying to keep the creative chums alive.

Leave your left brain out of it until everything you want to get on the page is on it.

Don't skip to edit what you write.

Kids paint outside the lines.

You get to write outside the margins.

Your ravenous left brain will get its delectable dessert later should you decide to take your journal entries to the next level.

You can take it to an editor.

It'll think it's Christmas Day or has entered the pearly gates of heaven.

I'll tell you another secret.

If you're writing about something that has deep meaning for you and stay with it,

Going right to the marrow,

Allowing it to come out raw,

Then often it won't need much editing.

Why?

Because your authentic voice is what the reader wants to hear.

You can leave dotting the i's and crossing the t's for a professional editor.

Writing exercise.

Deliberately write a few sentences with ridiculous grammar and spelling and even when you know how to write and spell.

So as this is an audio book,

It's not going to,

You're not going to be able to see how it's written.

You can imagine the worst spelling here in these words,

Me being in country whole bunches long time or never stop writing.

Okay.

It's hilarious,

But you know what it says.

Let yourself laugh and keep going.

Okey-dokey.

So just get it out of your system.

All right.

Another reason people don't want to write is they're afraid that if they put it in writing,

They're bound by it.

There's always been an aura around the written word.

It's like a law or a contract that can't be changed.

Gee,

I wrote it this way,

So how can I say it that way now?

Well,

You can.

That's poetic license.

It's also being human.

We're changing our thoughts,

Our minds and our perceptions as we learn and grow.

You can write something and stand by it today and then change it tonight if it no longer resonates with your truth.

The irony is as soon as we write the truth of where we are in the moment,

The energy shifts and allows for other truths to seep in.

We're not frozen in our fury,

For example.

Most often,

Once we've spilled it all onto the pages,

We hit a deeper motion.

Hurt,

For example.

We discover that under the rage lies a hurt inner child who hasn't had his or her needs met.

With this awareness,

We can then do some nurturing,

Such as write ourselves a love letter.

Promise that little one,

Even though you were abandoned,

Criticized and bullied by so-and-so,

You promise never to do that to her or him.

You love her like never before.

Then keep your promise in order to build confidence,

Authenticity,

Integrity and loving backbone.

It may take a while for this deeper awareness to seep in.

Write and stay patient.

You could be ironing a shirt one day and suddenly have an epiphany.

Your partner shouts,

Where's dinner?

Instead of having your blood boil,

You call back.

I'll be right there,

Sweetheart.

And you mean it.

You weren't triggered.

That's when you know you've healed that one.

Writing tip.

Allow your writing to teach you things.

Learn as you write.

Grow as you learn.

Let it be a progression,

Not a fact.

An endless well of wisdom comes to us from invisible places that the pen simply knows how to locate.

When we let it,

Nothing's written in stone.

And if it is,

Eventually someone will pick up the stone,

Skip it in the water and discover the world's not flat after all.

I'm not sure how that works,

But it's true.

Or not.

Maybe I'll change my mind.

Afraid what they will learn about themselves.

Writing takes you into the deeper recesses of your mind,

Turning over the soil of the unconscious and bringing light to what's been buried for a long time.

If you have things that you don't want to face,

Don't want to deal with,

You will avoid writing because the truth actually surfaces and makes you look at it.

Don't be afraid.

Be curious instead.

When you stay with it and write to the other side,

You will gain clarity,

Answers,

Healing and release.

Once you do get clarity,

Which may lead you to see your hand in some of the things that happened to you and you blamed others for it,

This is not an opportunity to beat yourself up.

Forgive yourself.

If that person is still in your life,

Consider apologizing to him or her.

Or if it's so long ago and you wouldn't know how to reach them,

You can write them a letter sharing what you've learned since.

Even though you don't have an address,

The act of writing it will free you.

Or simply sit quietly and send intentional loving energy.

Make sure you do it though for yourself first as well.

Above the parts of you that feel bad,

Guilty,

Sorry and regretful.

Those parts need more love,

Not less.

Writing prompt.

What I want you to know about me is.

.

.

You are writing this to yourself.

It's about getting to know you.

Competition.

Some people stay in a state of paralysis because they're always comparing themselves to others.

Do you do that?

Do you say to yourself,

So-and-so graduated at the same time as me,

Wasn't half as smart and has three books under her belt?

Comparing ourselves is damaging because it stops our creative flow.

How often do you hear the call to create something?

A book,

A blog,

A song.

But you stop yourself because you don't think you're good enough or that others have written on that subject already.

They probably have,

But they're not you.

No one can describe anything in your unique voice.

We ask ourselves the wrong questions and so get the wrong answers,

We say,

How come she can do that or say that?

Or no wonder he's successful.

He has a rich father.

Instead of asking ourselves,

What are my goals and what can I do today to ward them?

Writing exercise.

Take one writing project that you have on the go or want to have and get to it.

There's no trick.

Just roll up your sleeves and write.

Once you've started,

You'll know the sheer joy of moving forward and it will motivate you to come back tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that.

And when you get stuck,

Write your truth about it in your journal.

It will free you and you can continue.

Don't know what to say.

Sometimes not knowing where to begin and staring at a blank page can feel ominous.

A storm is brewing,

But you can't tell from which direction it's coming.

Should you take your clothes off the line or eat lunch first?

Or should you just let the storm drench the pages in your journal until the sun comes out?

Begin right where you are.

Describe what's happening.

Make broad sweeps with your pen like dripping a paintbrush into a palette of endless colors.

Even the black and blue ones.

Here's an example.

I feel stuck.

No,

I don't feel stuck.

I am stuck.

This blank page is daunting.

It feels too much like my life these days.

I don't want to write,

But I keep telling myself I must.

I must let myself scream here,

Allow the pages to hold my words.

The words I dare not speak out loud.

The silence is suffocating.

The walls in this house are shallow and hollow and echoing my loneliness.

Relentless loneliness.

Stifled tears are hidden in the crevices.

I dare not even let out a whimper lest it turns into pounding wails of grief without end.

How could he leave?

How could he leave me?

It'd never come back.

My heart is pounding in my chest,

But at least I feel my heart.

I've been depressed so long.

I've been numb.

No,

Dead.

Oh,

Blank page,

Thank you for holding my pain and turning it into something that has a heart.

A heart that feels and tells me I'm alive.

Maybe this is the crack that lets the light in.

I always love that lyric from Anthem.

I've always loved Leonard Cohen.

His poetry and songs touch my heartache with his own.

Well,

They used to.

Haven't listened to any music since the day he walked out the door.

I'm going to play that song.

Yep,

I'm going to play it.

God,

I need some light to come in and hope.

God,

How I need hope.

Still don't know what to write about?

Write about not knowing what to write about.

Writing prompt.

The last time I had nothing to say,

I.

.

.

Example.

The last time I had nothing to say,

I couldn't stop talking.

That's because Richard actually asked me what I was feeling.

Seriously?

Okay,

He asked.

Here goes.

I didn't notice that he had vacated the conversation 20 minutes earlier when I continued sharing.

Sharing?

Well,

Some would call it that.

He later called it pitching.

That's after he came back from eating a plate of soup,

Watching the football game,

Drinking beer,

Playing around a poker,

And taking the dog for a walk.

That's what he told me when I asked him where he was while I was talking.

He said his mind just went to a few more pleasant places.

Still not inspired?

Okay,

Just wait for it.

Because at the end of this book,

There are many writing prompts and other good stuff.

I've sent your muse ahead to meet you there.