Contemplative writing is writing from the heart. It has the power to surprise, reveal and liberate. It provides brilliant clarity and allows you to discover your voice and your true self, and amazingly, to come to accept, embrace and love who you really are, just as you are and honor YOUR authentic path.
Though I will always appreciate a well-crafted sentence, contemplative writing is interested more in the process than the product. This is a different kind of writing than novel writing or writing for publication or for an audience. It is writing whatever comes off your pen without regard for grammar, neatness, syntax or self censoring of any kind. Sometimes, out of habit more than anything else, conscious thought is involved, but more often there’s simply a sense that you’re writing from a different part of yourself, a wiser part. This allows you to access parts of yourself that you aren’t able to access through speech or thinking alone. It gets you right to the heart of your true self.
Contemplative writing is like holding a mirror up to yourself.
I call it “The Great Revealer.”
People are often surprised when they first experience the power of contemplative writing – it can be astonishing to see what is written on the page, things you never would have expected. When you embrace this practice, you will learn things about yourself that you never realized. You will begin to develop a solid sense of who you are and a comfort with yourself that you didn’t know was possible.
I want to empower and encourage women to truly KNOW themselves, to have an opportunity to accept themselves as they are, to know how they want to be in this world, to be the most content versions of themselves and to nourish and care for themselves. Contemplative writing helps to do all of these things in a beautiful, healing and transformative way. As with most practices, you’ll know its power once you experience it. I offer guided contemplative writing through women’s writing circles and a soon-to be-released at-home writing experience . . .
During circles, I sometimes just sit back and watch, amazed, as the writing takes on a life of its own, watching as women come to giant, beautiful realizations about their lives. Sometimes a participant might even look up after writing, practically gasping and exclaim, “I had no idea that was in there!” They were able to access, because of the techniques, something that had been buried deep within. And if we don’t know it’s in there, how can we work with it, either by allowing it to teach us something about ourselves or by beginning to let it go?