Writing Archives - Page 3 of 3

This is a guest post by Jean S., who is sharing her experience of participating the 6-week What Do You Want? course. More posts by Jean will follow, on consecutive Thursdays, as she gives us her perspective on the rest of the sessions.

Nila's Mama (Left) Preforms with a Barbershop ... — Barbershop Quartet (Photo credit: Lea LSF)

I used to think there was something wrong with me because there are things I really, truly want and need to do before I die, and yet I haven’t gone after them, or even half-satisfied the need. In the first meeting of the What Do You Want? course, I learned that it isn’t a flaw in me. It’s System 1, the unconscious, doing its job, what it knows how to do, which is maintaining the status quo. That’s a biggie. As Joycelyn said, “The unconscious keeps you alive, but isn’t interested in enlivening you.”

There are always worksheets which we complete in class, and if not done in class would be harder to do on my own at home. We learn and expand our own thinking as we take turns sharing our thoughts and writing, which we could not do at home, alone. By writing in class, we are sure to get it done, or at least get the process started.

We are never asked to share things that we are not ready to, although sort of by the nature of this work, we end up sharing a lot and finding we have a strong, mutually supportive group.

The main assignment for this week was to fill out one 5″ x 8″ card per day, dedicated to completing the sentence that starts: “What I really want is…” I have gotten past criticizing my every entry. I hear when it starts to sound like a “what I don’t want is…” list. My entries can range from little things that have been bugging me in my environment, such as “What I really want is a new, hand-held shower head,” to somewhat more elusive goals such as “to be clear as much as possible about how to behave so as to be my best self.”

I don’t pay attention to whether it makes sense to put something on this list. I just keep writing. Day after day, many of the same things come up and this tells me they must really be important enough to me to do something about.

Then there are little surprises, like “What I really want is to sing in a Barbershop Quartet.”

The class is provocative, as Joycelyn has many ways to shift our thinking and our understanding about the way we work. This is a great investigation, and I see how exposing it all to light will help us make a difference in our “status quo,” even if we sometimes drag our feet in the process.

The left hemisphere of our brain includes what Daniel Kahneman calls an “interpreter.” The interpreter is constantly trying to…well…interpret everything we experience. Since we find it easier to understand stories than details or information, the interpreter spins many a story to explain things to us. We tend to believes that these stories accurately represent reality. Occasionally the stories may come close to doing that, but much more often they miss the mark by a wide margin.

What’s worse, sometimes these stories get stuck in our head and continue spinning out of control, taking up headspace and essentially hijacking us by claiming a portion of our attention. There’s a simple three-step writing tool I’ve found to be really useful in such situations. I call it “Writing Your Way Out of the Story.”

Step 1:

Set a timer for 10 minutes and flow write (write without stopping to reflect, keeping your pen moving across the page). Let it all hang out. Don’t censor or edit. You’re not trying to look good or be reasonable. Think of it as emptying onto the page everything that’s been spinning around in your head.

Step 2:

At the end of 10 minutes, take a highlighter pen and skim what you just wrote looking for actual facts. “Jim didn’t tell me about the meeting” is a fact. “Jim is trying to sabotage me” is not. Highlight only the actual facts. The rest is your story about the facts.

Step 3:

Reread only the highlighted sentences or phrases. Alternatively, copy them on a separate page.

Separating the facts from the story about the facts often has the effect of dismantling the story, draining the emotion from it, and freeing you to either let go and move on or—if there’s an issue or problem to be resolved—figure out what to do about it.

The longer and more frequently we give free rein to the stories spinning around in our heads, the more we come to believe they are true, the less control we have over ourselves, and the harder it is to see things from any other perspective. These stories tend to color our worldview and they contribute to a cascade of stress, anxiety, and a myriad of other problems. Taking 15 minutes to separate the facts from the story has always been time well spent for me.

Inside Week 1 of What Do You Want?

Write Your Way Out of the Story

Step 1:

Step 2:

Step 3:

Contact Me