Dark Spots Get the Needed Light To Live Forward

Today I get the honor of participating in my first writer’s blog tour! I have to admit I had never heard of such an event. However, as I took a peek at the other awesome writers on the tour before me and read their writing journey, I was thrilled to get a chance to share and promote other writers.

I was invited to participate by Lea Bayles.

Lea’s piece about her wild river lover was awesome! I found her words rich, moving and wonderfully human. Visit her site: http://www.leabayles.com/blog and read more!!! 7399966

Now for my own writing journey ….
Dark Spots Get the Needed Light To Live Forward…why I write.

When I was seven, living at camp with my family, I was gifted a baby bunny that had been saved from the camp lawn mower. I was thrilled to take the little being in my hands, feel its rapid heartbeat. I found the bunny a home in a box, which I made quite comfy with grasses, leaves, and dirt. I was so ready to protect and nurture the little being. I sat beside that box for hours watching the bunny breathe and sleep.

Late in the day, my Mom called me to go to dinner. We had to leave our cabin for the lodge. I would be gone for at least an hour or more. I knew I needed to protect the bunny from our dog and the camp cat. So I put the box in our car. Off, I went to dinner. When I returned, I found the baby bunny very still, clearly not breathing, yes, dead. The car had gotten too hot. I was devastated. I couldn’t find words for what I was feeling. The horror that I had killed the little baby bunny was overwhelming. I didn’t speak about it. I went quiet for days. I silently buried the bunny. I didn’t know how to come back from such a mistake and loss.

In the fall, when I returned to school, my teacher asked us all to write about our summer. On that blank sheet of paper, I reclaimed my heart. I wrote about the joy I felt with a new life in my care, the pleasure of creating a home for it, and the hours of being a protector. I wrote about the tragic choice to put the little bunny in the car, a decision made with good intent that went horribly wrong, and finally, the pain of holding that little lifeless bunny.

The piece wasn’t long. It was a series of simple seven-year-old words, with some words missing and some misspelled. Yet those words captured the life and death of my bunny and my emotional process. When my teacher chose to read my piece, and I heard my words, I finally cried. My life returned. The pain was freed to live forward.

Since that first piece, I have used writing as a path to process the stories of my life that otherwise would have shut me down. When I write my heart opens. My defenses drop, and the armor that I have used to survive, begins to melt.

When I was dealing with cancer at 24, I wrote to wrestle with the gods about fairness. When I was dealing with nightmares and memories from my childhood, I used prose to share the pain that was trapped in my cells. When I lead a Come Alive, I am holding a space in a circle for peoples’ stories. I write then to find my heart, clear my mind, so that I can stay present and connect with their world, not stay stuck in mine.

Writing frees my emotions, and clears my pain so that the dark spots get the needed light to live forward. Writing allows the broken pieces to reform and become art.

I have wrestled with whether or not to write a book, but my path seems to be more an on-going river of short pieces.

I had never called myself a “writer” because my written words were rarely kept. I’d share them in circles and with friends. In the sharing my armor would finally soften, and the stories would melt away. That still seems to be the heart of my purpose in writing.

4972425Maybe someday I will bring the pieces together, and a book will emerge. Maybe the pieces will remain fragments in a blog post, a newsletter, a poem, or a piece shared to honor a friend’s passing. I am uncertain. I just know I am a better person when I write. My defenses drop and my heart opens when I let the words find a place on a page. The cracks those words create, let the light in and my broken heart beats on.

The memory of a baby bunny’s journey in my hands is complete – life and death, joy and sorrow. No hero. No happy-ever-after ending – real, raw and messy, human after all.

Now for the super fun part of being on a blog tour – the three Writers I would like you to meet:

Meet Martha Jo: Dr. Martha Jo Atkins that is. She is all out loud and proud about death, dying, and grief. She helps grieving folks find new ways to be in the world after someone they love has died. She also helps people + businesses renegotiate and step into identities after big change or loss. Visit her blog and enjoy! http://www.marthaatkins.com/blog/

Meet Xanet: Xanet Pailet is a former health care attorney turned sex and intimacy coach, certified sexological bodyworker and Tantra teacher She works with women and men who are sexually shut down and helps them rediscover their sexuality and find more pleasure in their life. Read more: http://powerofpleasure.com/sex-advice/

Meet CrisMarie: CrisMarie has gone from Olympic athlete to Top Five Consulting firm to Actress, Writer and Coach. Her quest continues to be stepping more and more into her authentic self. Having gotten lots of practice, CrisMarie will help you reclaim your life and bring more of who you truly are to what you do to get the results you want. Visit her blog and be inspired! http://inspireplaycreate.com/

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