Because I Can’t Draw

Almost 20 years ago I took a class about discovering and recovering my creative self. It was based on a book that was fairly new at the time, a book that went on to become a best seller. That book was The Artist's Wayby Julia Cameron. In the class I learned about a daily practice called Morning Pages. Being the good student that I am, I embarked upon the journey diligently (and, I might add, faithfully). Each morning I would rise one-half hour early so I could write three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness nonsense—or at least what I thought to be nonsense at the time. This practice was to last the duration of the course: 12 weeks. Little did I know then it would become for me a lifelong practice; a friend, in fact, and one I have come to love and hate. I have written my way through death, divorce, surgeries, travels, triumphs and tragedies. And I continue to write.

Recently I discovered the following prose poem by Meredith Heller, a singer/songwriter, teacher and poet. It was featured in the day calendar called "We'Moon-Gaia Rhythms For Womyn." I don't know if Meredith writes Morning Pages or if she has ever heard of them. She may not even know about The Artist's Way. What she does know is that writing is a spiritual practice: a way to connect with Spirit or the Divine. She also knows that writing leads you to your own inner wisdom, your inner teacher whose profundity will amaze you. She writes to create herself and to be reborn.

Meredith Heller's "Why I Write"

"I write to hear my voice, because there are places of honesty and beauty that I go in my writing that I can't always go in my life, and I must, and because writing is where I grant safe passage for the shadings of meaning that I don't always communicate to myself and to others. When I write, I let the parts of me that hold my breath, breathe. I write to let the light into my being and to let the darkness out. I write to release my pain and my past, to understand why and who I am, to savor my life by naming the ingredients that flavor my moments, and to celebrate life in all of its excruciating tenderness. I write to own myself, to capture the rhythms of my cycles: my journeys into the abyss and my travels through glory. I write to allow myself to feel, to climb inside my emotions and explore their reaches and textures. I write to summon my tears, to let them wash me hot and clean then drain me empty and free. I write myself alive and reborn. I write myself whole and holy. I write to experience myself transformed. I write because it involves me in this mysterious process of discovery, and because writing is a ritual whereby I create myself. I write to get naked and authentic, to delve into the marrow of my being where I make my blood. I write because I hurt and because I love. And so I won't lose anything. I write because I have always written and writing is how I know myself. I write because I am lonely and sensual and spiritual, and I need to make contact with the divine, and writing for me is like touching: it is rubbing and rolling my body against the divine until my boundaries dissolve and I no longer know where I start and where I stop, and I become part of the universal hum. I write to make myself eternal, to leave a piece of me stained into the ethers. I write because I believe God listens for the places where we love and own ourselves. I write to keep myself company. I write because I can't sleep, because I find the darkness at 3am electric and intoxicating and writing is the way I communicate with that life energy. I write to grab onto the edge of shimmering chaos and ride it through lightning storms and come out stronger and clearer and a little bit crazier from having tasted the other side. I write to access my subconscious like a Ouija board, to learn things about myself I may not have known and to make sure I master the things I'm learning. I write to make the world my own. I write to keep myself honest and to keep from watching TV. I write to keep my Muse intrigued. I write because I can't draw."

Like Meredith, I write because I can't draw. But more than that, I write because I must. I invite you to take up the practice and discover for yourself the magic of writing.

Blessings,
Ingrid

Ingrid Kincaid is an internationally known storyteller, teacher and spiritual mentor. She is an intuitive reader of ancient runes. She gently shows her clients how to tap into their own inner wisdom by weaving together creativity, spirituality and ancient knowing. Ingrid is available for interviews, private consultations and group presentations. You can contact her at ingk@ingridkincaid.com or 415.652.3990.