Stirring the Waters. Janell Moon

      INTRODUCTION: The Hand of Promise

      A young mother came to me for hypnotherapy saying she wanted to develop a closer connection to her spiritual self. As I usually do, I began by asking her a few questions. To the question when in her life does she feel a presence of “something more,” she said it was when she was tending her child in the middle of the night. To the question what did it feel like, she said it was a time when the outside world took on less importance and the connection between her daughter and herself felt soft and glowing. With this feeling, everything counted, she told me, her heart was open to the sky, the books in the room, people sleeping across the ocean. All she needed was a gentle reminder from me to continue using love to have more of that spirit feeling.

      This book is written to help you stay close to that feeling, to be sheltered by what’s true and real for you. In it, we’ll use writing to develop our spiritual practice, to access that sense that we are connected to something greater than ourselves. Some call it their muse, higher power, goddess, god, the spirit. Just use whatever word or name feels right to you.

      Spirituality is many things, and we each must decide what it means to us. Perhaps you feel that religion is a set of acquired opinions and not the sacred truth, and have left religion behind to embrace a more loving presence. Maybe you practice within a religious tradition but are also developing a spirituality that feels closer to your daily life. There are no hard-and-fast rules here. Only this: Spirituality is a way of living that seeks to satisfy a longing that draws us to life.

      To search for our own way can be a long, slow process, but what I’ve found repeatedly, over many years and with my many clients and students, is that writing can be your spiritual practice. It can help you become more open, develop faith to be comfortable with the unknown, and be better able to answer the question: Who am I and what am I doing here? Whatever you determine spirituality is for you, writing will help you find your way.

      As a child, I used writing and creativity to save my young life from the problems in the family. I loved the bright colors of chalk murals, but even more I loved the chalk dust as it floated to the sill. I loved to paint and watch trees grow on the page under my brush. I’d write stories that felt more real than the life I lived and was sorry when they were finished. I was in love with the act of doing art. When the fort I was building was finished, I was eager to begin another.

      As I got older, I realized that writing and painting gave me a sense of re-creating myself. To be creating something, to make something new, to be at the beginning of something, was to feel alive and generous and loving. I didn’t yet call it a god force, because I didn’t believe God was in my life. When I was five years old, our Sunday school teacher showed us a poster of Jesus surrounded by island children. Jesus was reaching out to them. We sang “Jesus Loves Us” and I remember the thought crashing through my mind that that’s why God and Jesus didn’t help me. They were on some island helping other little children.

      And so I lived my life wanting the feeling of connection that writing and art gave me. I found I turned more and more to writing because all I needed was a pencil and paper and myself. I could write anywhere. My writing gave me a feeling of connection to my life source in an everyday, regular way. In times of despair I could write a poem, a story, or just put down what I was thinking and feeling. I learned I could ask myself questions and write the answer until I felt my heart opening to myself and others. Writing helped me connect to my soul. It is this feeling that makes me a larger person and makes happiness a part of my daily life.

      In my work with clients, I often ask if they notice any connection that they may already have to a higher power. Many times a client will at first say there is nothing to build on, but then remember loving the smell of the lilies of the valley that grew in the neighbor’s yard where she grew up, and wondering how that scent was made. We then explore how the smell makes her feel and what that has to do with her spirit.

      What I’ve found is that it is often easier, and more genuine, to build on something we already have in our memory and may have forgotten than to search out something altogether new. Of course, the process of developing our inner selves and our connections to our wise powers through writing will not be a linear one. We will remember the old connections that stirred in us as children. We will remember questions we once asked. We will start to accept our feelings and to let go of our fears. And then we will find ourselves doubting those connections and feel that we’re back at the beginning. We will follow our intuition to find balance and, after a good jog in the rain and a ten-hour night’s sleep, the feeling of connection will return.

      The exercises in this book were designed to help you more regularly find this connection, to tap into your wise self. With practice, growth sneaks up on you much like a garden when it’s ready to bloom. After seeing only buds for the longest time, suddenly you are awash in blooms. How could it happen all at once? Why did it happen in just the left end of the garden this day? Was it the sun? It didn’t seem stronger there. Maybe it was the soil in that section. Whatever it is, after the clearing, the seeding, and the nurturing, a pattern of growth is displayed. And sometimes, too, in the midst of the garden, are sunflowers you didn’t plant. You have no idea how they got there, but they grow the fastest and tallest of all. You’re glad to have them for beauty and eating and the mystery of it all. That’s the way it is with writing about spirit.

      The first time I taught Writing as Spiritual Practice as a workshop, a woman who was grieving the loss of her partner cried as she asked to read to the class what she had written. As she read, I had the feeling that doves were flying