I've been struggling with the tone of the memoir I am writing about my mother and me, our relationship. I had a sneaking feeling if I could get into the workshop, something would emerge. What I didn't know was how strongly it would, in fact, give birth.
As soon as I started writing to the suggestion, the words took on a life and gained speed, my hand trying to keep up. And yet it also felt easy and light in the room. I felt the energy encouraging me to continue, No! Don't stop to edit or delete, write!
And so I did and when the facilitator announced five minutes were left, I was already done. I reread it and corrected my handwriting; sharpening the r's stabilizing the n's. And then we were offered a chance to read what we had written. Another woman went first. There were only women at the workshop. And then I volunteered and began to read, suddenly and swiftly feeling the same emotion as when I read at my mother's memorial. I felt the shakiness inside me and I fiercely willed myself not to break down. Not to cry. These women came to write as I did. I knew what I had received from coming here. I held it in my hands and continued to read, shocked by what one writer would later comment on, it's "unrelenting" tone.
I'd found it.
The rest of the day I whispered "thank you" to my mother, the angels, God, the energy of the room. But most of all to my Higher Self who I connected with; who led me to that workshop. Who helped me to begin. I had everything but that.
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