It’s not just about the writing.

We all have them: aspects of ourselves that had to go into hiding early on in the name of survival. Often in writingf sessions these parts get to speak, be heard and seen, and begin living in us once again.

Not just your writing, though yes, of course your writing. You might also discover you have a truly unique way of illuminating things for others, or that you recognize beautiful parts of people that they’ve never seen in themselves.

You may come to see that you are wise in ways you thought everyone was, but it turns out to be your gift, your medicine. 

“How is it that we are all exactly the same?” is a common sentiment in workshops filled with diverse souls from all over the world. It’s because we are.

Here, we connect at the level of our beating human hearts. Folks are always falling in love with each other. Very dear and trusting friendships are born in these spaces. 

When we are braced for criticism or rejection, we hold ourselves in mild (or not-so-mild) fight-or-flight, tensing up such that not much will flow. Our writing sessions provide the space for you to relax, express, and relate more fully.

Yup, it’s a hard world and we have to protect our vulnerable hearts. In our sessions, where we quickly come to trust that we’re going to get a radically different response, we can live to the fullest extent of our love.

This is great practice for showing up this way in the wider world—one that so desperately needs more of exactly this. 

One of the most healing aspects of this way of writing and sharing is how we greet and hold each other’s writing. Once you discover how good it feels to tell someone how beautiful their work is, it’s hard to stop.

You might start to see and name beauty everywhere, and want to point it out, lift it up, help it grow. 

Against the very, very loud soundscape of Everyone Else—in our past, in our heads, in the world—it can be hard to hear our own voice, our own intuition, our own guidance.

Here you get to meet that voice on the page—and have it validated, supported, and brightened by others who hear it too. Unmistakably.

Write a letter you’ll never send to a person you can’t talk to anymore. Share this process with your partner or sister or coworker. Learn what it feels like in your body when you are telling the truth.

These are a few of the many, many ways people have started to get unstuck in their relationships through this work.

It’s not why we’re here; still, it does sometimes happen: a piece feels so good to the writer that they either agree to let me share it on the community blog or Substack (I’m always begging!). Or they share it themselves on social media, start their own blog, or ultimately write their own memoir, children’s book, book of poetry—all have happened.