Welcome to my first Blog Tour for writers.  I was invited to participate by an inspiring soul and Martha Beck Coach, Darren Stoupe.  I am addicted to reading his words of wisdom.  You can read his poignant post from last week on his blog:  http://www.darrenstoupe.com/i-write-to-be-me/

My writing story:  Sometimes it feels like I write to Breathe.

I killed a friend.

I am sorry to be so dramatic.  I say this to connect, to own it, to be authentic.  And to show the dynamism of words.

25 years ago I was an English major at Berkeley when I took a road trip with a dear friend.  Bob and I drove down from Berkeley to San Luis Obispo to visit pals.  It was really late or really early and I was driving when the right front tire blew outside of King City.  I remember being tossed around inside the car and seeing Bob’s hands come into view to help me wrestle the wheel under control and then nothing.  My 1966 volkswagon bug flipped end-over-end three times and Bob lost his life.  Bob was killed.  My driving killed Bob.  I took Bob’s life.  I broke apart his family.

I did not write anything after that and I did not drive.  I walked everywhere and was grateful to walk.  Back at school, I had a hard time getting my assignments finished as writing was the main work f an English major and I had no words or i could not face my words.  Yet.  I spent a lot of time outside and the trees always gave me strength, always told me I was okay and would be okay.  I looked for a long time for the message in the pain, sure that I was supposed to learn from this event.  That I needed to be more careful?  That I was evil?  I needed to make up for this, but how?  Two years later, my uncle gave me a car.  I was terrified and tired of being terrified.  I drove it to Yosemite and slept outside for days and my scattered pieces came back together under my tree friends and I wrote.  I wrote to Bob and finally went to his grave and there placed a letter to him.

Bob came into my dreams a lot then, laughing and smiling and one day he told me,

“You get to do whatever you want with this.”

 I decided I would love and see the magic in people and animals and the world.  There were times when guilt would creep around my joy.  But me and my writing became more and more joyful and the trees said things like:

Sweetie, Fucking Own It.  Own your Joy.  Your guilt accomplishes nothing.

My tribute to Bob and to this grand life is to meet it and embrace it.  I am grateful for the journey to reach peace and connection and know that when I lose balance again, I can right myself with the help of trees.

——-

I met my favorite author, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, at an orange juice stand in Mexico City and he told me, “write with all of your senses”.

I grew up in a home that treasured the written word.  Mom and Dad were always reading passages to each other and us sisters from newspapers, poems, and magazines at the breakfast table, in the car, throughout the day.

 I enjoy words almost as much as I love the woods.

I love a good thesaurus.  I play with words in my blogs, poetry, journals, stories and essays.   I have been recording my night dreams since Junior High School.  I write to uncover what I am about, to understand and see myself, to create and to share in order to support other’s journeys.

My writing process is chaotic and jerky.  I write when it comes over me, I have learned we must all follow our own rhythms, there is no right and no wrong way.  Marquez would take long showers at 4am before everyone wakes and then sit to write what he dreamed in the shower.  A friend of mine carries small notepads everywhere and scribbles ideas as they come to him – on the river or in the bar.  I write when the mood comes on me, and like my friend, I can’t resist its pull.

I even smuggled forbidden paper and pen into a silent Vipassna Retreat while backpacking in New Zealand.  We meditated in the country surrounded by sheep-filled fields.  For 10 days I vowed silence, no camera allowed, no looking at my poor boyfriend whom I had dragged along and whose eyes I could feel across the meditation hall, and no writing.  We were there to develop our mindfulness.  But I could not help myself, sure that I would have numerous epiphanies, I snuck paper and pen into my sleeping bag.  While I did have numerous wonderful discoveries into myself, I did not find much need to write them down.  I only recorded this haiku:

Luncheon with the lambs
They happily eat and pee
Without missing a bleat

So, that is what my writing helps me to do, to fucking own it – to own me, with all my wacky, painful, faulty wonder-full-ness.  I can write my truth and I can write what I want the truth to be because that is its own truth.  I know the treasure that people are, I write to celebrate and to help ease pain, mine and hopefully yours.  I am an ecstatic person because I feel the joy that is connected even in the sadness.  I love and I believe in magic and power and adventure and nature.

I know that nature is not just beautiful scenery, it is a life-force that can heal you and empower you.  Writing is one tool I use to share that power, a gift from Bob.

———

Now I get to introduce you to my friend, she has a beautiful voice through words in her blogs.

Watch next week for her post about her journey with writing and blogging.

Tina Meilleur is a life coach and business consultant trained in the Martha Beck coaching methods. Her company is called Design your Success because she helps people define success on their own terms in their life, career, or relationships – including money. She knows when you define success on your own terms, the likelihood of achieving what you desire increases greatly. Her style and dedication to her client’s success creates an environment of self-discovery and a desire for action that propels them forward. You can visit her at www.designyoursuccess.com.

I Hated Writing… | Design Your Sucess

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