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Write Like Your Parents Are Dead or Alive, Just Write

I’ve been listening to a lot to talk of telling your story. When we write and tell our stories, we own them. Our stories become grounding and good for our souls. But the Stories We Live are tricky to tell when they involve other people and you wonder, what are the rules there? 

The primary question I heard, and have asked myself, is what impact will this story have on the other people in my story and in my life ? And here are the answers I’ve heard. If you need to tell your story, tell it. Don’t worry if anyone will read it because you might not show it to anyone afterwards. But the story needs to come out of you. It’ll fester until it does.

You also need to never share a story that you haven’t resolved. Stories that are still being written, need to stay private. The story won’t serve you or your audience if you are asking them to help you heal it thanks to Brene Brown for that insight). And on the same note, we may also need to heal our life’s relationships with the people in our lives for it to be worth telling. Healing is interesting.

I always loved the quote from Anne Lamott,”Write like your parents are dead.”

And then she added, this,“Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family, a long bony white finger would emerge from a cloud and point to you, while a chilling voice thundered, “We *told* you not to tell.” But that was then. Just put down on paper everything you can remember now about your parents and siblings and relatives and neighbors, and we will deal with libel later on.”Write Like Your Parents Are Dead or Alive, Just Write on Shalavee.com

Unresolved anger and resentment aren’t very interesting. You can change people’s names but they’ll still know who they are. Or maybe you need truly no longer care about that person if you commit to telling about them. The bottom line is that you still have to get it out of you. So this will be a matter of editing not of writing.

I found that the stories I had to tell about my sad sack childhood made me sorry for myself but didn’t empower me in any way. I was passing the blame back when I needed to no longer be defined by it at all. Everyone is doing their best at any given time. And as a writer, the best story I have to tell is the truthiest story I have in me.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Taking off From the Runway

Seems recently, my brain has made enough room to allow for some actions in directions that I had “always meant” to go, but hadn’t gone yet. Begin the unstuck here.  I had purchased a series of talks on fear which have wallowed in my email box until suddenly recently, I dialed it up and listened. 

And then today, I was driving in the car and I remembered I had a link in my browser tabs to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons podcast. And I dialed that up and began to listen to the first episode of season one from 2015.

The Universe allows you to get what you need when you are ready.

Her very first podcast was with a blogger and Mom named Erin. She’d been writing her self-development and mothering blog for 6 years but she was feeling the push to do something bigger now that her youngest one was in first grade. But she was struggling with guilt and doubts. Sound familiar?

If there wasn’t a podcast meant for me to hear, it was this now.

She suggested that Erin had been on the “Runway” of the airport picking up steam for the takeoff the years that she’d been teaching and blogging. Hmmmm. And that now it was time for her to dive into writing her book before her plane crashed into the houses at the end of the runway.

She also had a few more brilliant ideas and permissions to give Erin who struggled with motherhood guilt. By engaging in the creativity that expresses who she is, she is modeling this for her children. She can love and be available for them because she’s there for herself first. And it would be good for everyone for the kids to be asked not to disturb her for a while. They need to learn how to occupy themselves as well as be modeled boundaries so they can have them too.Taking off From the Runway on Shalavee.com

She suggested that when she’s writing, there’ll be a time when Mom will only be able to be there 75% of the time and not a 100%. And that we often have these notions about Good Mommies and Bad Mommies and it seems like we can’t be both sometimes. If we slack, will be replaced? I doubt it. Will they appreciate us more? Probably. Why not then? I dunno.

In the 20 whatever minutes of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons Podcast, I’d heard more than I have ever heard as a writer that let me know I am right where I needed to be and that I too am ready to move myself along. And all the fear burbling up is disguised as perfectly good sounding excuses which not even the best writers can avoid feeling the fear. They’ve just seen it through to the other side and finished the book. So what is it that I am needing to get on to doing?

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Permission to Be Me

It is truly hard to claim yourself. What do you like and who do you believe yourself to be are two of an intricate network of questions for which the answers represent you. Except we are so inundated with facts on who we are supposed to be a that by the time we are old enough to have the power to define ourselves, we’ve all but forgotten who we are.

“You can be anything you want to be” is such a ridiculous statement, we think. I’m supposed to be all these other things.

I keep thinking that I need focus on who I see myself as. To actively engage in a process where I define myself to me and the world. For years, I have had the intention of delving into my journals and blog posts to get to know and appreciate myself better. Am I doing that? Not.

Except, self-love is giving yourself permission to be you. And if you don’t know you, how do you know where you end and others begin? Or what makes you happy? Or what you’re good at? All your decisions are driven by the answers to these questions. Or they’re not. And you’ll feel lost if you are choosing life choices based on other people’s expectations of you.

permission to be me on Shalavee.com

So I am again setting myself to seeing myself in my writing by reading my words. I want to hear what excites me again. I want to know what my priorities. Like an archaeological expedition, I want to rediscover myself and find out what parts of that need to be fleshed out. What flames need to be fanned into a bonfire that I can tend and share. Thinking that my daily art effort will now be redirected to this project and we’ll see where it takes me.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

You Have a Right to Hear Yourself Speak

I believe very strongly in the power of words. To ignite, to soothe, to pinpoint, or to release. From a young age, I began to write so that I could hear what I was thinking and to work out where I was. I found the therapeutic value in hearing myself think and felt my value there.

As children, there’s an implied “Shush” everywhere we go. We are too loud, we don’t know what we’re talking about, we’re inappropriate, or we just need to be seen and not heard. Adults are intolerant of children yet the smalls ones are much wiser in many ways than us. They laugh when things are funny. They still feel exuberant and free from self-editing when they speak their minds.

When we grow up, we understand the importance of not rocking the boat. Of keeping a low profile. Of being normal. But sadly, we also censor the most passionate honest parts of ourselves. Further, when we no longer speak with our inner voices, we are no longer listening to ourselves. We are no longer ourselves. We’re Stepford versions of us. Good dutiful Do-bees. The anti-us.

You Have a Right to Hear Yourself Speak on Shalavee.com

There is definitely a difference between speaking up and making a difference and knowing your words are futile. Why bother. But I think we forget that there is magic in hearing yourself think and speak regardless of how it is received. We have a right to speak our minds in America and we owe ourselves the effort to acknowledge our own feelings.

For me, there is power in the process of writing what I think and handing it out to the world. There is magic in transferring what I feel and gifting it to someone else to perhaps spark a feeling in them too. We build on each others thoughts as a world community. The sparks and the gifts of our communications swirl and rise our collective consciousness. In this way, we not only owe ourselves the gift of speaking our thoughts, we owe the world too.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Getting to Know Me

Within a two day span, I had several of you my dear readers look me straight in the eye and tell me that you had read and gotten something from my last post. And this is what I noted after I thanked you for reading; I’m being read. I am handing out how I feel and what I think with no expectations about how many are reading or if it’s making a difference. But you are and I am. And that feels strangely like an awakening.

I can and have spent a lot of time fretting about fulfilling a purpose and you just told me I was. I have put myself through such existential wringers while silently I impacted the world in the slightest kindest ways. And I paid no attention to the fact that I have said so much that my body of work probably speaks for itself. Because I didn’t give myself credit for much of anything. Anxiety feeds low self-esteem and around and around again.

getting to know me on Shalavee.com

It dawned on me that perhaps I need to spend some time intentionally getting to know myself. That I’ve been telling myself who I am but I just haven’t been paying as much attention as I should have. Bad parenting I guess. They say you already have everything you need to know inside you, it’s just a matter of listening. So I’m thinking I’m going to take the opportunity to get to know myself a little better.

And I just might make a new friend.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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