Confessions From a Life of Writing
The following are questions from Colleen Wainwrights, Interview YOU exercise, I decided to use this morning.
When did you decide to become a writer?
I didn't decide, not in this life. I was born this way. I'm not sure the first time I put pencil to paper, but I know I had journals in kindergarten. I remember getting my pen license in year 3. I wrote my first self-help book when I was 8 called, "A Guide to a Healthy and Successful Life for Women" (Prophetic, much?) to help my mum who was struggling. Even then, I could see how to weave actionable tools together to support women's wellbeing. I also co-authored a crayon-illustrated anthology with a friend, Emily that year. I'd love to see it again.
Who was your favorite teacher?
Mrs. Rosemary Greenup. She is so kind. She helped me get my first speaking gig at my old high school, years later. Mrs. Jan Makepeace encouraged my debating prowess. I channeled my intelligence, wit, nose for the truth and argumentative Aries (moon) energy on a warpath that was constructive. She was strict, but had the courage to be disliked. She had her reasons. Miss Steffen - my English teacher in Year 11 - singled me out for my writing at a time when I really needed that encouragement and read a couple of my stories aloud to the class. It was the first time in a long time I'd felt seen and celebrated for my creativity (at least writing) and it sparked - or maybe re-kindled - belief in my own talent.
What do you love to write about?
I love writing about significant events, that grow into a recount of a whole season. Like balancing a cheque book, writing helps me reconcile my life. I've had a fantastic amount of challenge, and writing is a weapon I've used - and still do - to defend, protect and resurrect myself.
What has writing taught you?
God has taught me, through writing, that all things are malleable and I am creating the meaning in my life. I can't just pull any story or reason for something out of thin air, it has to make sense to my Soul, and that comes through intimacy, which, for me, is the whole point of this life experience anyway. I use language to integrate out of control aspects of my psyche, which translates to a greater peace in my life, discover how I feel about something and live by it and dredge up and hold in consciousness the resources I need to face a challenge. Ironically, it’s also taught me - I’m reminded of this now - I don’t need to bare every little piece of me to the world. I am already seen, known and loved. I don’t need to offer myself up for their approval. I offer my Self because I like it, not because anyone who’s reading this is a better purveyor of value. Right now, I’m learning to take the pressure off. “Good enough” is good enough. I don’t need to be anything special. Rather than leaving holes in my work because I can’t find the “perfect” word or way to express something, I finish sentences and then go back to - lightly - edit. It’s a lot more enjoyable.
How has writing made you stronger?
I thought living through addiction, bipolar, ptsd, anxiety and depression was hard. Writing about it was harder. I was consciously sitting with all the pain, and chipping away at those - often maladaptive - coping mechanisms and walls to be with myself, underneath it all. It broke me enough times to make me realize I wasn't the one breaking. Whatever shell was cracking, I didn't identify with it anymore, which completely changed how I live my life. Writing is... a spiritual practice.
If you could go back in time and tell 10-year-old you anything, what would it be?
"As much as your life appears idyllic, it sucks right now. (I think that could help her with the gaslighting). You're right, about all you can see and feel. You're acutely sensitive, and being mined ceaselessly for the uncommon empathy that is actually a superpower. There is more. The vast majority of your life will be WONDERFUL, but most of this early story is hard, rocky, complicated and devastating. You're in the thick of it. It's a compliment. The hell you're experiencing is in direct proportion to how powerful you are. You will emerge, and you’ll turn all you've ever lived through into gold. You're magic, and you're going to help millions of people. Look for the mentors. Seek out guides. There are genuinely wonderful humans who are supporting you. Keep writing what you think, feel, see and know. I'm right here, with you." The more I retraced my steps writing Holy F*ck, the more I realised I was always being watched. I'll see a young girl today going through it and I'll wrap her in golden light, pray for her and send her compassion. It makes me wonder how many people have done - are doing - that for me. Angels are everywhere. I’d also give her a list of books.
What are your five favorite books, blogs or things to read?
I love painful storytelling that reveals profound wisdom. Writing is a deeply alchemical process, for me. We're purifying, refining and elevating; taking what feels like sh*t and looking at it with Love, to see ourselves and our life through a clearer lens, as they really are.
Nirimi Joy's The Road is Home was one of the first blogs that had a powerful effect on me. She wrote about her escapades as a woman, lover, friend, artist and young mum. Her words ooze with sentiment. I couldn't help but fall for myself, through her. I noticed aspects of myself awakening, that were interesting and exciting. My natural joi de verve was so bound up in cultural chains, I was trying to find a reason to live - a spark of joy and adventure - through one-night stands and drinking. This was healthier. All she was doing was sharing her Soul - something she obviously enjoyed, felt like she had to do and came naturally to her - and I was responding. I was exhausted from forcing myself into everything. It was so refreshing. When you're in the desert, and suddenly a cactus flower starts growing, you're ecstatic. Hopeful. Signs of life were appearing. I was like this is valuable. I can do something that feels good and helps me - and maybe even others - rather than hurts. I want to do this. That was probably the healthiest desire I'd had in a long time.
Women Who Run with the Wolves. This is one of those books I scripted into my Life Path with God before I was born. We knew it would help me navigate this particular period. Reading it, I feel seen, a little scared and satisfied. I have language for some of even the most obscure and deeply buried aspects of my experience and self. Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ work is a powerful reminder you don’t have to sacrifice one iota of your true depth, feeling, talent, curiosity - basically, any of yourself - to live as a healthy woman in this world - which is what so many women have done (for “security”, “protection”, “safety” and “love”) and lost themselves in any and all forms of co-dependence. You can be murderously angry, ravenously hungry, ruthlessly aware and acutely sensitive, and still be loved, still thrive.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray. It felt so scandalous, at the time. I realised humans had been ratbags way before me. In a culture that tries to split (and conquer) women by shoving them so far into polarities, (you can either be this OR this), Wilde's characters - and Wilde himself - were proof debauchery didn't discount my talent. He was a successful writer, and from what I can gather, he was a total mess, as a human. Someone, something, somewhere, had Grace. It created space around shame. That quote… "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." I loved that quote. It was my, albeit totally toxic, mantra, but it gave me language for my longing, sense of identity and a taste of living by something.
I’m currently reading How to Build a Billion Dollar Business which is stimulating the right, more masculine side of me. I’ve felt out of balance lately - all this vision, ideas and work banking up like water at a damn - so exercising my expression muscle and putting work into the world is helping me level out.
My Own Writing. Honestly. I love reading my own work. In a world where women's focus is trained away from us from the second we're born and captured in a matrix of insecurity and self-consciousness, reading my own work brings me back to my Self. It fattens my self-belief and gives me a spiritual and emotional sturdiness I can face the world with. I used to be knocked over by a slight breeze - and still sometimes feel scared of being authentic in the world - but reading what I’ve written gives me courage. When I’ve been Soul starved, in periods of spiritual famine, my body of work is a eucharist. I offer it to myself as a sacrament. I’ve lived off myself. My work is an honest, grace-filled mirror. How can you not fall in love with someone baring their heart and Soul?
