Intro to Creative Therapeutic Writing
Life is full of roadblocks, barriers, dead ends born from new beginnings . . . of red lights flashing in moments we are late and eager to arrive somewhere new.
These snags appear as a relationship ending, the loss of a job, the death of a person or a pet, the niggling anxiety and/or depression that just won’t let up, an illness, the internal monologue telling us we just aren’t good enough, or smart enough, or capable enough. Often, we approach these uninvited guests with eviction notices - wanting to get rid of, to fix, to excise them as fast as possible in order to get on with our lives. But what if these visitors arise as opportunities to move more fully into alignment with who we are and what we are here to do? If this is the case . . . how do we decode their messages in a way that allows us to be in curious relationship with rather than embroiled in the power struggle? I’m glad you asked! Or, if you didn’t know you were asking, welcome to this inquiry. It is a question I often ask . . . and in asking, a therapeutic writing process has emerged as one possible inroad.
In Patti Digh’s book, “Life is a Verb: 37 days to wake up, be mindful, and live intentionally,” she writes about desire lines - the architectural word for pathways created by people or animals, that illuminate a preferred route, rather than the intended or planned course.
Often these paths are seen as tendrils sprouting off a sidewalk or marked trail, winding through the landscape, delineating a way from here to there guided by our hearts and natural inclination. As I peer out my window now, I see two desire lines created by Wallace - my giant angel great dane. The flattened grass trails each cutting through the yard, leading him from the back door into the wildness of our overgrown jungle, and back again. As I follow them with my eyes, my bones feel and see his presence, his heart steps.
Desire lines reveal where we really want to go.
At times, it can feel like our desires are blocked from view, unattainable, or too far away from what we have been taught we “should” do. We collide into them, believing the voices telling us we need to be this way or that, to stay firmly planted on sidewalks built by others whose paths and processes may have been different from ours. And when we are surrounded by all those voices, the shoulds and challenges, we lose sight and touch of our own heart’s desires. We may even believe these obstacles, discomfort, and inner fears are keeping us on the right path - that they are stop signs preventing us from going astray.
However, Patti shares how obstacles, in story writing and in life, are actually what makes the story a story.
Not only are they NOT something to be fixed or removed, but they are essential components of a well written story, of a life well lived. We need and can learn to interact with obstacles as necessary guideposts clarifying our longings, allowing us opportunities to catch glimpses of our desire lines, and if we choose, to infuse our story with marrow and motion.
In her book, she offers a structured writing practice as a way to begin alchemizing obstacles into fireflies lighting our way home.
Essentially, you begin by choosing a longing to explore: I want to be in healthy relationships, I want my partner to do the dishes, I want to know what freedom feels like, I want to live in a treehouse in the forest - it doesn’t matter what the longing is, only that it is there. Then, you write for 10 minutes using the prompts below to begin each new paragraph:
• Once upon a time. . .
• Every day . . .
• But one day . . .
• Because of that . . .
• Because of that . . .
• Because of that . . .
• Until finally . . .
• Ever since then . . .
The structure offers a container allowing new perspectives, options, and possibilities to emerge.
The flexible boundaries provide enough safety to take risks, tap into our creativity, and to stretch the edges of our comfort zones. After writing, we can choose to pause mindfully and reflect - exploring the process itself or perhaps being with the content of the story. We can telescope out, rereading our words, seeing what is familiar, what is new, or what might be keeping us stuck. The beauty of this process is in its ability to boldly invite our obstacles in as main characters, welcoming them, viewing them not as things to be afraid of, but as necessities bringing movement and fullness . . .in essence revealing our desire lines.
This process is a foundational practice I have adapted and shaped for my own personal growth and healing - often writing daily stories to explore parts of myself, my stuck points, seeing which moments I strayed from or stayed close to and bringing my unconscious desire lines to the surface to be seen and known.
Once in view, I am able to choose where my next step will land. I also use this practice with those I move alongside, whether in therapy, coaching or consultation, inviting them to explore pain points and longings through a lens of creativity, curiosity, and in a way that reveals the natural wisdom existing naturally inside of us. Once the words are written, we have limitless options to deepen our explorations - whether it be through movement, voice, music, art, or simply holding the shapes of our words together in relationship.
What follows is a series of short stories I’ve written from my own life to demonstrate how this practice works, the gems it can unearth, making visible the alchemy of transforming obstacles into fireflies that arrive as heart steps home.
References
Digh, Patty. (2008). Life is a Verb.