Grief for the Untold Story
The grief of the untold story haunts the heart. Find your words and write them now, in cards and letters, journals and drop-dead boxes. The stories—the writing and the sharing—have healing power.
The grief of the untold story haunts the heart. Find your words and write them now, in cards and letters, journals and drop-dead boxes. The stories—the writing and the sharing—have healing power.
Words.
Sometimes they harden, wedge in the tip of the pen.
If I can write deeply and meaningfully about the worst part of someone or about the stellar behavior of another, it’s because it’s in me, too. … It’s all of us.
Not sure what your jam is? Your intuition knows. Listen to your intuition, find your jam, and put your heart into it. Good advice for writers. Good advice for life.
As Edith and I read yesterday, I experienced several “did I write that?” moments. Part of it is didionesque: we’re constantly moving away from where and who we are and we lose touch. But a bigger part, for me anyway, is discovering that when I write, especially when I’m in the flow and writing from the heart, I never write alone. There is grace and magic there.
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