#20 Therapeutic Writing - Part 1

Allow your grief an expression through writing.

“Give sorrow words,

the grief that does not speak,

knits up the over wrought heart,

and bids it break.”

~ William Shakespeare

Shakespeare is so right. Words heal, indeed. They allow pain to be seen, expressed and affirmed. Words open pathways to finding meaning and carving post-traumatic growth and transformation. They help us come to terms with the reality, affirm and heal our grief, assimilate it in our life trajectory and learn to live with it.

Grief brings along a barrage of difficult emotions. In our lonely grief journey, grief reactions and emotions can feel overwhelming and swamping. If we let them remain unaddressed for long, they can trigger medical, psychological or other adverse implications. However, it is not always easy or possible for us to be able to share our grief experience with others. Social mourners stay around for a brief while. Soon they need to return to their own busy lives. Even those available may not have the kind of sensitivity that grief companioning needs. Despite their good intentions, some people end up saying things that bring more pain than solace. And on those rather uncommon occasions when some people want to companion, a hazy layer of awkwardness and anxiety about how to hold space for a griever comes in the way. It is not anyone’s fault. We are neither individually attuned nor socially groomed to be grief-wise.

The sad reality remains that grief is a long lonely journey. There is a refuge thought to be found in writing. It makes us feel less alone. It allows expression to our grief reactions and emotions that we find hard to tell others, or others are unable to understand. Not just that, sometimes the grievers themselves too are unable to make sense of their deep dense experience. Writing brings it to surface and helps make sense of it. It is a compassionate companion that offers a safe and therapeutic space where we can pour out our voice-less pain, fear, anger, despair, guilt and all other consuming emotions and experiences.

Dr Bessel van der Kolk, the psychiatrist and famous trauma expert and author of “Body Keeps the Score” insists that embodied trauma interferes with brain functioning, intensifies secretion of stress hormones, and weakens the immune system. I know this first hand. In many bereavement and grief stories, endocrinological problems like type-2 diabetes have an obvious, even if not directly explanatory association with embodied grief and trauma. The pain comes to live in the body. And we have to find a healthy way to release its tense energy.

“Resurrect the deep pain within you and give it a place to live that is not within your body. Let it live in art. Let it live in writing. Let it live in music. Your body is not a coffin for pain to be buried in. Put it somewhere else.” ~ Ehime Ora

Let writing be that somewhere else where you let your pain pour itself out. Writing has long been recognized as an impactful way to facilitate healing, resilience, change, meaningful transitions and overall wellbeing. It helps us accept the reality of loss and affirm our grief. What more, very often writing unravels our deeper wisdom that we remain oblivion of otherwise. The pain and trauma that cannot be made sense of, writing helps find meaning even in such suffering. It helps us look at ourselves, relationships and world at large with new eyes and meaning. It helps rekindle hope, courage and strength to adapt and reconstruct life with meaning.

“I can shake off everything as I write,
my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.”

~ Anne Frank

PC - Unknown from Net. Used with gratitude.

Anne Frank’s diary is a legendary testimony to the profound effect of writing. I am a case in point myself. Though I was not new to writing, I know for sure that penning my pain didn’t just help me release my bottled tense energy in a safe and healthy way, but also made memories feel less intrusive. I could eventually heal my ruptured sense of self which for me has always been deeply fused with my experience of motherhood, and my children. It was actually with my younger son’s reflections on my writing that helped me in an important way re-script my sense of identity. A surprise welcome gift that writing my grief experience brought along was that it took me on several meaningful remembrance trips down the memory lane, that had a calming, balming and healing effect on my shattered heart.

I mostly write in a stream of consciousness, flow of the moment way. Little could I imagine that my random bits and chits of grief writing would eventually take shape as my grief memoir A Mother’s Cry .. A Mother’s Celebration. This didn’t just support my own healing and growth, but also helped many readers across the globe, as I came to know from those who personally contacted me.

Although my own experience of writing free in the stream-of-consciousness is deeply therapeutic and meaningful, I wish to address a paradox in regard thereto. Like most good things, this kind of writing too can have a flipside. While many people experience it to be facilitative, for some in acute grief it can prove to be more overwhelming than cathartic. Why? Because grief itself can feel too vast, dense, formless, boundaryless and bottomless. Free writing on top can make it feel more heavy and overwhelming, even frightening. My experience of working with grievers in one-on-one or group setting corroborates this notion.

I therefore encourage grievers to start with short, relatively structured writing, within which what exactly one writes can still flow freely. Prof James Pennebaker’s pioneering research confirms the therapeutic value of short writing about a distressing or upsetting experience. Establishing the therapeutic power of short writing in the context of trying and traumatic life experiences, his research confirmed that when people going through such experiences write their raw feelings, it helps them release tense energy, heal emotional wounds, boost immunity and create health benefits. I can vouch to this based on both my own personal experience as well what I have seen many clients and other people I help experience.

Dr Pennebaker advocates writing for 15-20 minutes at a time, about a distressing event or experience, about four to five times a week. Sounds simple. It is indeed. Yet, immensely therapeutic and transformative. It is an amazing self-therapy that helps a griever face, acknowledge and heal our deeper feelings and thoughts. My experience tells even seven to ten minutes of grief writing is therapeutic and meaningful enough, especially when the experience you are writing about feels too traumatic and overwhelming.

Sometimes you may find yourself writing just few scattered random words. For many, grief writing takes poetic form. At times it may be interspersed with doodling or sketching. And for some, artwork may feel more natural and free flowing rather than writing. All forms are fine and welcome. There is no one right way to allow expression to your grief and pain. What feels natural is the right way for you. It is the deeper insight that your therapeutic writing (or art) reveals, that matters. Return to what you have written after a while when you feel bit more calm and rested. Read it with fresh eyes, open heart and curious mind. Perhaps some new meanings will surface. Such reflection wisdom is precious. Write it down (even if it has surfaced from artwork). Savour it. Meditate over it. And act upon it, one gentle step at a time.  

Let me share few of my own reflection writes which proved more therapeutic, inspiring and meaningful than the original writing or artwork –

• Stuck yet flowing.

• There is calm in the eye of the storm.

• Light lives beside dark.

• Life is alive. So am I.

• My grief has shattered me. My grief has kept my love alive.

• My traumatized heart. My agonizing mind. My broken back. And my loving soul. Let me rest a while.

These are just a handful of examples from the hundreads of reflection writes that emerge from my therapeutic writing. In the following post I will share about the how of therapeutic writing, and the various ways (structured or less/un-structured) and forms it can take. Until then, begin where you are. Allow yourself to see your pain and give it an expression, it so needs to heal and regrow.

As a ‘Grief & Growth’ Specialist, and ‘Resilience, Purpose & Transitions’ Coach, Practitioner & Trainer, I am here to support you in your grief-affirmation and healing journey, and take the path of meaningful growth and transformation. I coach individuals, families and small groups to help them affirm, heal and process their grief, and grow from it with compassion, resilience, meaning and purpose. Please feel free to reach me at growwithneena@gmail.com if you need (whether in personal or organizational context) counselling, coaching, therapy or training in ‘Grief & Growth’ and ‘Resilience, Life-Purpose, Post-traumatic Growth, Transitions & Wellbeing’ realms. And please share forward my coordinates with those in similar need.

Stay tuned to continue learning more about the complex phenomenon of grief, and my six-phase GROWTH Mandala model, and to develop #GriefWisdom. Meanwhile, you may find some solace, support and strength in my books Grief ~ Growth ~ Grace – A Sacred Pilgrimage  and A Mother’s Cry .. A Mother’s Celebration. Read yourself and/or gift to someone on a grief journey, or grief practitioners. And if you like my books, please leave your review on Amazon & Goodreads

Above all, remember to hope, love & smile. 

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Start writing today. It is truly therapeutic. And if you start your own Substack, remember to connect your publication with ‘Grief-Wise with Neena Verma’.