I write for the purpose of healing. It is one of my spiritual practices. I experience so much healing, and so much joy, through my writing, especially those that I end up publishing through blogging. There’s just something about other people reading my stories and experiences. It creates such a profound healing opportunity for me.
When I write to blog, I practice caution. I’m concerned with the feelings of others, especially those involved in my experiences. On the technical aspect, I’m more mindful of my grammar, the flow, content, message, organization, etc.
Yet I cannot be overly cautious and too concerned, especially about others — whether they’re the ones involved in my narratives, or they’re the readers. Doing so only stifles my creativity. It blocks my throat chakra.
Journaling vis-à-vis blogging
There’s a huge difference between writing for one’s eyes only (i.e., journaling) and writing to be shared with others (i.e., blogging or publishing).
When I journal, I write freely. I don’t censor. I don’t edit. I vent. I release. Some of my journals end up eventually getting published. Some of them remain locked in the privacy and sacredness of my inner sanctuary. And some of them get torn up or burned as part of my release and cleansing ritual.
When my intention is to publish my writing, I balance between fulfilling my desire to express myself and being sensitive to the feelings of others — particularly those playing a part in my life stories and experiences.
Either way, writing is one way to get through and past the pain. I write the toxic emotions away. I peel away the layers. And especially when I end up publishing through this blog, I reveal what I feel. I expose myself. I become vulnerable. Tender. Raw.
Death and rebirth
Almost two months ago, two snakes showed up in my life, literally, at my doorstep, in a most peculiar way, which I posted about here.
And I’ve realized that when I write, it is as if I am shedding my skin just like the snake.
The snake is characterized by the shedding of its skin symbolizing death and rebirth. Renewal.
Shedding the skin. Shedding of the old. Peeling away layers of the old. Removing old skin. Removing dense, stagnant energy.
And then exposing a different layer. The new. Exposing my vulnerability. The delicate side. The rawness. The innocence.
Just like when I write.
Sharing about my experiences, past and present, my hopes and dreams, my joys and fears, my thoughts and reflections, my frustrations and intentions, my doubts and confusion — writing about these helps peel away yet another layer of misqualified and blocked energies. As I write, I move the emotions through my system for eventual transmutation. Old and stuck emotions, false and limiting beliefs, disempowering thoughts and distorted perceptions —- all these melt away. And later, are transformed.
The process of writing is the alchemical process that transforms me. Writing is the shedding of my skin and which allows me to see differently, like the snake.
“Snakes have no eyelids. Each eye is covered with a single clear eye scale….A snake’s eye scales are part of its skin. This means that when a snake sheds its skin, it must also shed its eye scales.” (Source: http://museumvictoria.com.au/discoverycentre/discovery-centre-news/2008-archive/snake-eyes/)
“As the skin begins to shed, the eyes begin to clear as if they will see the world anew.” ~Ted Andrews
And as I write and shed my skin, some of what I share may get ugly. Painful. Messy. Uncomfortable. Raw. Heavy.
And there may be those who will be offended. Angered. Triggered.
Some couldn’t care less or may not be moved. And then others may be humbled. Jolted. Awakened.
I could be questioned or doubted. I may be setting myself up to being criticized. Maybe even ostracized.
It may hurt to the core. Mine and that of others. And be it those involved in the stories or those simply reading them.
But it is real. It is true. It is the truth. My truth.
And it may be ugly. Nasty. Very ugly. It may be the ugly truth but truth, my truth, my ugly, nasty truth nonetheless.
And I’d rather write the hard stuff than talk about fluff because it is what will give me the most healing and profound transformation. Wisdom and insight will find their way through as I let the writing take a life of its own.
And as I allow the energy to flow from the depth of my soul, through my fingers and onto the keyboard, tears may flow.
But it is part of the process. It is how healing happens. I need to sort through and clear up stuck energies. And in order to usher in the new, I need to look at and look through any remaining and residual old stuff, and not simply look at, or look for, or write about fluff.
It comes with the shedding of my skin.
It is the process of alchemy.
And it is my alchemical process of the shedding of my skin.
- Snake Medicine (Part 1)
- The Story Behind My Story (Snake Medicine Part 2)
- Revisiting the Past (Snake Medicine Part 3)
- Balancing Craft and Vulnerability when Writing a Memoir (http://writeyourbookinsixmxonths.com)
- Uplifting and Inspiring Posts
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