Well, in February I set up one day a week to try lifting items from old journals. I enlisted two readers to help me edit, one of which quit shortly thereafter. I squirmed and wondered if I was up to the challenge of all this self examination. And what better time to do self examination then Lent?
So I went to the workshop and discovered a frozen part of me. The major tool of control in my family of origin was criticism. I still have deep scars from years of unrelenting criticism. I found I could not read even one piece of my writing in front of this group as I was blocked by this enormous fear.
Along the way, during the sessions I also learned that, yes, the calling to write my spiritual journey was real and strong and not necessarily neglected by me. I found myself slipping an unedited poem in the comments basket anonymously. I still could not find the courage to read, but I did take the lessons to heart that Kathleen Norris offered on editing and began to look at one poem I had written recently.
I put the edited version in the basket with my name. Kathleen asked permission to read the edited one to the group. I stuck my head in my shirt. She said, "Well, they will all know it was yours if you do that!" I gave her permission.
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Kathleen the Stinker |
Two sessions later she read it. The poem was received with warmth and enthusiasm. She was also a stinker when she handed the paper to me after she read it! I have been editing and writing with new vigor ever since.
Right now my husband is my first editor. I've asked two other people to help out. I hope to share things here, but I have to tell you, as Mom would have said, "I am busier than a one armed paper hanger!"