Why do I do this work?
The written word has been the most consistent vehicle for transformation in my life. As a child, books were a safe harbor from chaos and confusion. I felt seen and deeply understood by writers I never met in a way that I couldn’t by the people around me. This acknowledgement was essential, and fortifying. It kept the fire inside me lit.
Writing, for me, is a sacred practice that I nearly lost. After college, convinced I needed to “get a real job” and get on with my life, I abandoned my lifelong writing practice. As the years went by, I wrote and read less and less. And I became more and more lost to myself. I sank into depression and confusion. My relationships got difficult; my job felt like a burden. The animating spirit inside me, the spark of life, was dwindling. If I kept on that way, I felt I was going to die.
But something changed for me in 2013. As is said in the recovery world, I “hit bottom.” I found myself in my favorite sacred space– a bookstore– sitting on the floor, praying to the spines of books for an answer.
What I used to claw my way out of that dark time was spiritual practice (including writing) and community. Mentors, some of whom I knew in real life, and some of whom (like those early writers from my childhood) I will never meet, threw me lifelines. And I wrote my way toward them. Grappling with telling my own story, taking a daily excavation into myself seeking truth, rekindled the fire inside, and brought me back to life.
The mainstream society in which we live doesn’t support creativity and connection. There are endless ways to numb ourselves, to turn away from the essential questions of who we are and why we’re here. I want to offer another way, just as it was offered to me. There is life and redemption in the practice of writing. There is a road back to ourselves.
Stories can save us. Stories can heal us. Stories can free us.
Are you ready to tell your story? Contact me.