Love Letters — Good for Both Heart and Soul

Cupid has got to be behind this synchronistic web discovery. Just hours before St. Valentine’s Day I found a link to a PsyBlog post explaining that Affectionate Writing Can Reduce Cholesterol.

Previous posts here have explained how writing about trauma is good for your health, and also that writing about happy stuff is good for you. But love letters and affectionate notes had not made the list, and I have not previously seen reduced cholesterol linked with any form of expressive writing. This is great news!

Based on the simple report on PsyBlog, this study appears to be among the hundreds of variations on the Pennebaker research model that has people write for about twenty minutes on three to five occasions:

According to new research, writing down affectionate thoughts about close friends and family can reduce your cholesterol levels. Floyd et al. (2007) randomly assigned participants to one of two groups: one experimental and one control. The experimental group wrote with affection about one person in their lives for 20 minutes on three occasions over a five-week period. The control group wrote mundane descriptions of their activities over the week, jobs they had done and places they had lived.

(read full article)

Note that the experiment involved writing three times. I’m inclined to think that writing to more people, more often could amplify the results and have the same stress-reducing effect as keeping a Gratitude Journal. This could be worth turning into a habit or way of life!

Write now: pen a loving note to a special person in your life. For best results repeat often, at least once a week. You may get even stronger results by using pen and paper rather than sending an e-mail!

Picture: Sharon Lippincott © 2011

It’s Been Five Long Years

A little birdie just whispered in my ear, “Check the date of your first post.” Sure enough. Today is fifth anniversary of that first post. It’s hard to imagine that it’s been that long.

For those who came in more recently, this blog began about the time I fully formed the intention of writing The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, and the blog bore the same name as the book. By the time the book was published about eighteen months later, my interests had broadened beyond just story writing, and within a year or so I renamed the blog, omitting the “story” to arrive at the current title. 

Over the course of the five years in nearly 500 posts, I’ve covered almost every topic relating to life writing: story writing tips and techniques, working with your muse, journaling tips, elements of memoir, the nature of memory …  If all the archives were printed out, they’d fill about five volumes.

Some have asked where I get my ideas for posts. Sometimes my muse Sarabelle whispers them in my ear. But a majority are written in response to questions students ask or comments on forums and other blogs. Now and then I write about a book I’ve read or a news item. In short, they come from anywhere and everywhere. 

Through the five years I’ve become keenly aware of the power of Story and blogs to create community and connection among life writers. Many have told me my blog is a sort of coach (I’m also available for standard coaching). It’s been a nudge to my creativity, and hopefully yours. I’ve shared computer tips. 

More than a few times over the last couple of years I’ve felt like I’ve said it all, and perhaps it was time to post a “Finished” sign. But there is always more to say. I’m working now on plans for expanding the scope of the blog. Stay tuned for more details. 

Write now: jot down some thoughts about an ongoing project of your own. Take stock of your accomplishments as well as your plans and dreams for its future.

Paper versus Pixels: the Debate Goes On

In January I participated in an experiment to explore the relative merits of journaling on paper versus keyboard. The research project was spearheaded by Amber Starfire, owner of Writing Through Life, a blog and ezine devoted to the fine art of journaling. For one week we wrote by hand. The second week we used the computer, and the third week we mixed the two. 

Official results have not been released, but I was a little surprised by my personal findings. From the time I received a Hermes Baby typewriter in preparation for going to college, I used a keyboard for just about everything but taking notes and signing checks. For over a dozen years I kept sporadic journal entries in ongoing documents, adding to them through the space of a year. 

Three years ago I began journaling on a regular basis, loosely following the Morning Pages model. After spending two or three weeks reconditioning my writing muscles, I fell in love with hand writing, finding deep pleasure in watching words pour from my hand onto paper. They seem more real, more immediate, more connected in three dimensions that any pixels on a monitor ever will. Writing by hand often invokes a meditative state. While writing stories, essays, blog posts, articles, and all that other stuff is still fine on the keyboard, journaling by hand has become something of an obsession. Magic happens. I feel more creative. I don’t recall my muse  Sarabelle ever visiting while my hands were on a keyboard.

But still, I’m up for experiments and try to keep an open mind. I’m aware of the advantages of using the computer. Amber summarized them beautifully in a post about journaling software. 

My experience confirmed my preference for writing on paper, for all the reasons I already knew, but it also reactivated my appreciation of computer journaling. My journals have pale golden pages as warm as morning sunshine. After recoiling from the icy white digital page, I set the page color in Word to palest pink, adding a header of slightly darker hearts. Then I downloaded a hand printing font not too different from my own and used deep violet “ink”. This combination tricked my eye and made a world of difference. My E-journal feels less like “more work.” 

However, I did not find myself drawn into the meditative state. My thoughts remained closer to the surface. This may partly be due to the crisp percussion of hitting keys versus the smooth, analog glide of gel pen on paper. Clicking versus silence. The rhythm and flow are different. Also, the keyboard and touchpad on my laptop are wiggy (I will journal in my comfy chair, not at my desk, however I do it). The cursor jumps around now and then. To avoid chaos, I must often reposition, which breaks the flow.

Focus is a concern. When I write on paper, I’m journaling. That and nothing else. I’m aware that I could type in some of what I write, but that never happens. If I use anything, I rewrite it. When I write on the computer, some tiny portal remains active, reminding me I can easily recycle parts into a blog post, email, or whatever. That keeps one eye on the window to the world. 

For me, 95% of the value of keeping a journal lies in the writing. If my journals are lost or destroyed, so be it. I cherish this break from the keyboard and need it for personal balance. But I think I will be using the keyboard to capture more thoughts that aren’t so deeply personal. I might even invest in journal software for the purpose. 

Write now: try Amber’s experiment for yourself and draw your own conclusions. Then send me an email with the results. If you already have strong feelings about this, post a comment and share them.

Sweet Release

Few things have compared to the astonished delight I felt when I opened the front door to an unexpected ring. A man stood on my front porch clutching a  a Happy 40th Birthday Mylar balloon in the midst of several colorful plain ones. After he determined I was indeed Sharon Lippincott, he confidently stepped into the living room and began singing the Happy Birthday song. Then he handed me the bouquet, bowed, and left. What a sweet surprise! Though the attached card had two names, I knew my sister-in-law had outdone herself, and my gratitude lives on.

The standard balloons were dead within a day or two, but that Mylar one seemed destined to live forever. At first I felt a warm glow every time I saw it. But sentimentality didn’t last much longer than the standard balloons. Soon the glamor of that birthday faded. I’d had such hopes that turning forty would magically bring new levels of respect and success, and it didn’t take long to realize that nothing had changed, nor would it, at least not by the simple passing of days. I plunged into an abyss of despair.

I’d allowed that Mylar balloon free range, and it drifted silently, following air currents from room to room. Soon it took on the aspect of a spirit, suddenly appearing in the corner of my eye. This was disconcerting, and the balloon became the focus of my angst. 

About three weeks after my birthday, I had come to hate that balloon and all it stood for. Then I made a sudden decision. I took the filmy plastic out the door through which it had arrived. I stepped into the middle of the yard, whispered a simple apology to the environment, and … turned it loose! I stood for two or three minutes watching it rise into the warm spring sunshine until it grew too small to see. When I turned to go back into the house, I realized that all my disappointments and darkness had soared away with it. I felt free and happy again.

I’ve never been tempted to buy other balloons to recreate that sense of release. Aside from the litter effect, buying my own would lack the magic of that symbolic surprise. But I have done something else just as effective: I’ve written out all my frustrations and anger and sent them up in flames. Sometimes simply journaling helps. Or writing a story about it. 

Try it. You’ll like it! 

Write now: dredge up some stressful thoughts. Unless you just happen to have a magic balloon floating around, write about those thoughts, using scrap paper. When you have it all out, shred the paper, or tear it to bits. Put it in the fireplace or somewhere safe and burn it. Feel your stress go up in flames along with your words.

Energize Your Words

There are lots of ways to add energy to your prose. One of the simplest is to break your habit of using puny phrases such as “there are.” How can I rephrase that first sentence to add more power to it? Here are a few of many alternatives:

• Would you like to add energy to your prose?
• One of the best ways to add energy to your prose is …
• Your prose will be  more compelling if you …
• Readers won’t be able to tear their eyes away when you energize your prose with these simple techniques.

A more typical example for lifestory and memoir writers describes a living room:

It was painted pale green. There was a sofa along the end wall. It was flanked by end tables.

That description reads like a bullet list Let’s try again:

End tables flanked the sofa set against the end wall in the pale green living room.

I’d like to know more details about the sofa, like it's color and style, but at least this second description artfully combines the bullet-list sentences into a single flowing one. 

Phrases such as it was, there were, or any variations of these are a form of passive writing. They suck the life from your words. Breathe vigor into your stories by rewriting to avoid them. In fact, rewording these sentences gives you the opportunity to use more imaginative description, which further energizes your story. For example,

It was really cold out that day.

might become

The biting cold pierced my lungs like a knife.

Knowing where to look for the leaks is the first step toward energizing your stories. Your imagination will grow stronger as you challenge it to plug those leaks. 

Write now: pull out an old story and look for it was or there were phrases. Reword them to eliminate the phrases, adding relevant description as you edit.

Writing Lesson from Michelangelo

When asked how he went about carving such magnificent statues, Michelangelo is said to have explained that he simply looked at the block of marble, saw the statue within, and chipped away everything that wasn't part of it. 

That parable has a lesson for life writers. Most of us have been accustomed to thinking of the task of writing a story as one of creating something from nothing, or transforming intangible memories into a tangible record. We struggle to find the pieces, to find a way of connecting them … writing is hard work, often intimidating and easy to put off. 

There is another way to look at it: Life itself is a story, and Story is the operating system our brains use. When you sit down to write a story, that story is already complete, whole and perfect. Your task as the writer is to look at the vast chunk of story encasing the one you propose to tell and chip away everything that isn't part of your perfect story. 

The first step in this process is to write an initial draft. This isn't the time to agonize over individual words or thoughts — just dump all those memories onto the page. Spare no detail. Your aim is to overwrite. This draft amounts to making the first cuts that knock large chunks off the block of marble. Your next step is to edit that draft, removing the extra pieces that slow the story down. Chip away all the extra words and material that doesn't fully support the story theme and flow. 

Once you have the form of the story right, turn to your imagination and thesaurus to polish the words and descriptions. Give the story sparkle by swapping finely honed synonyms for duplicate words appearing in the same paragraph or close proximity. Add zest to descriptions and zing to dialogue. On the latter, I do caution you not to add so much zing that your grandmother comes across as Joan Rivers. You must remain true to your characters, and retain an air of veracity.

These polishing steps definitely reflect your artistry, but  realizing that the story was always there, waiting to be revealed in all its glory may well defuse most of the stress of writing so it can become the joyful, liberating experience you always dreamed it would be. 

Write now: think of a story you've been meaning to write and chip it out of the mass of Story surrounding it.

Photo by Stanislav Traykov, CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

New Years, Old Years

I traded posts with Mari L. McCarthy today. Please visit her site to read mine. — Sharon

As an advisor in journaling, I emphasize journaling for therapy, or what I call Journaling for the Health of It ™. I've discovered the extraordinary truth that journal writing can help you accomplish just about anything you want. As I proudly proclaim on my Create Write Now Facebook page, "Daily Journal Writing Therapy to become whole and healthy both inside and out is just about the coolest thing I can think of!"

Nonetheless, the actual practice of journaling often involves good old memoir-type writing. Not always, by any means, but at times looking back on your past with your pen in hand can be extraordinarily productive.

Since it's the New Year, I'd like to suggest a simple process of reflection that will help you turn again to the future with renewed confidence and faith.

First, flipping back through your past, identify the times that stand out as having been exceptional, better than other times. Choose one single year of this kind on which to focus.

Write "My Best Year" at the top of a new page in your journal, and then, remembering as many details about that year as you can, begin translating them to the page. How old were you? Where were you living? What was environment like? How did you spend your days? What were your involvements? Who were the others in your life at the time? What exactly happened to make it such a good period of time for you?

Stretch your memory to describe one day or incident from that time in as much fine detail as you can recall.

Now read over your journal entry and consider how this special time was formative for you.

Did the conditions and events of the time cause you to change in noticeable ways? How did that wonderful year influence who you have become today? Suppose you could go back to that same happy year. Is there anything you'd do differently the second time around?

For the payoff, bring the story of your best year into your plans for the coming period. What parts of that time past can you bring into your present? 

If you've allowed yourself plenty of time for this exercise, you're likely to be surprised by the possibilities it suggests. Life is cyclical, certainly, but with close attention, we can often raise the overall vibe by intentionally learning from our experiences. And your personal journal is just the tool to make the job delightful!

Mari L. McCarthy owns and blogs at www.CreateWriteNow.com, home of Journaling for the Health of It!™. She guides people in keeping up a Self-Healing Journal Practice, helping them cure their diseases and heal their life. Her most recent publication is Peace of Mind and Body — 27 Days of Journaling to Health & Happiness. Passionate about goals and successful in accomplishing them, Mari is also a singer/songwriter who enjoys raising roses as well as her consciousness.

Photo by Squirrelbrand.