“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? / The world would split open.” --Muriel Rukeyser “Käthe Kollwitz”
As I mentioned in my post about the poet Muriel Rukeyser last week, these lines are her most well-known. In fact, when I did a search in Substack for them, I noticed that the writer
quoted them in a great post about writing your truth recently. I thought we could explore that a bit more together.
I’ll be the first to admit that I have at times found it difficult to write down the hard truths, even just for myself. I didn’t keep a journal for years because I was wary of actually putting on paper what was going on inside me. That would make it real. But writing down what is true in our own hearts, without worrying who might be looking, is probably the most important thing we can do—as writers or simply as humans. What if we allowed ourselves to put that thing in words that has been wanting to come to the surface?
Do you find it easy or difficult to write what feels true? How important do you think it is? Do we have the power to split the world open with our truths? Is that a goal we should have as writers? What stands in the way of our telling our truths? Why can it be so hard?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Below is an exercise that you can do, if you wish.
BONUS EXERCISE
A helpful practice I learned from the fabulous coach Jessie Harrold, is to begin your day with a check-in.
What is true for me today?
Simply think of five things that are true for you now. Turn down the static in your life, turn inward, and see what is present for you, physically and emotionally. What feels true? This practice can morph into a greater awareness of how you really feel about things as they arise. I have found it incredibly helpful as I’ve figured out what I really want in my new life.
If you do the exercise, you can pause to think about how it feels to write down what feels true and real to you. Does it come naturally? Do you enjoy doing it? What surprised you? Was it hard? If so, what made it hard? Was something standing in your way? Did you hear a voice telling you to hold back? If so, where do you think that voice is coming from? Did you find this a valuable exercise you’d like to repeat?
SEE YOU IN THE COMMENTS
I look forward to hearing your thoughts about truth-telling, in general or in response to the exercise. And remember, this is a supportive space where we can explore together. There are no wrong answers here! And take a minute to read others’ comments and respond to one or two.
Lovely! I’m so glad you’ve found something inspiring here! And I love your thoughts on meditation. It was a huge game changer for me. I started about Jan. 2021. I don’t do it regularly anymore. But you are reminding me that I need to build it back into my life. Thank you! 🙏
I can't say enough how much I am enjoying this space and the people here! To answer your question Anne, what I call "authenticity" has been a central tenant (and practice), I suppose, of my life for as long as I can remember. I have a memory of being 14 or 15 years old and thinking, "I don't want to be anyone else; I want to be me." And I wanted very much to find out who that "me" was. I'm still discovering her and hope to continue. I believe one of the most fundamental ways I can do that, though, is through a practice of authenticity or truth telling as you say here. So many people have mentioned morning pages. I have never managed them particularly well. I don't do any kind of regular journaling. Perhaps, that will change someday. I do have a decade long meditation practice. And I can give you a start date for that! May 2014. I'll say what plenty of other meditators have also said - meditation rewired my brain and has contributed significantly to my mental, emotional, physical, and yes, spiritual well being. It has helped me see myself and my habits of mind/body more clearly, which has helped me to return over and over to my authenticity, to find it. Exercise, particularly swimming, QiGong and Yin yoga have helped me listen to and locate the truth in my body. I so appreciate you asking these questions because then I get to think and write about them! I love the practice of asking yourself what is true. I'm going to use it with my Spiritual Companioning clients.
I have come to Substack to share more of my truth, to be more open and not feel ashamed of being a sensitive person. I felt crushed by social media towards the end of last year and although I now have some balance again, I decided to be here on Substack to share the good and the challenging and the difficult. I wrote an article this week https://www.anartistinherflow.co.uk/p/navigating-difficult-times
It does feel like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but I wrote it anyway.
I do journal most days it helps keep me connected to myself.
Dear Susan, what a brave and beautiful piece of writing! I shared some thoughts there, but I will also say that nature and my own inner resources are my pillars. The latter I’ve discovered through journaling. That has meant not only writing down my truths but also finding that deeper, wiser part of myself that can listen and comfort me in my pain. Tara Brach helped me find that voice deep inside. We all have it.
I’ve kept up a journaling practice from my twenties onward. It’s morphed in different ways through the years, for different reasons.
These days I keep several journals: one is a pretty, perfect-bound traditional journal for musing, reflecting, dreaming and kvetching; another is more of creative “notebook,” a messy, informal, spiral-bound collection of my ideas for essays and short stories, as well as tracking submission rejections and acceptances; and finally, I have one notebook, also spiral-bound, that is wholly focused on a book I am trying to write.
Altogether I would say for me these practices are less about a need to tell my truths (though this is certainly part of it)—and more about organizing my interior and creative life so that I bring some sense and form to everything that lives my heart and head.
So interesting, Cheryl! There is getting the truth out, but there is also doing something with it, organizing the interior life, as you say. I love this!
The lines from Muriel Rukeyser became my mantra about a dozen years ago when I began writing about my miscarriages. Those two lines formed a threshold, inviting me to walk through and tell the truth of the keening pain of loss and ultimately, being childless not by choice.
Marjorie's comments about conflating truth-telling with victimhood resonate. Social media has made self-absorption and victimhood a competitive sport and I have profound concerns for the mental health of generations who are raised in this social environment where oversharing and focus on self make them numb to actual suffering. And yet, perversely, we've created an expectation that suffering is to be avoided at all costs, that we all "deserve" to be happy and that we have within ourselves the means to control our own destiny.
What I feel called to as a writer, whether in fiction or in personal essays, is to lean into personal truths in a way that encompasses the universal, that creates community rather than spotlights me as an individual. I find this easier to do in fiction, because I can remove me and pour all of my "truths" into my characters, but I found through years blogging and writing book reviews that when I become personally vulnerable, people respond. So I am thinking into my Substack and how to use that microphone more wisely- how to strike the balance between personal truth and building community. Very much like what you are achieving here, Anne- you are an inspiration!
I really appreciate this Julie. I write personal essays that are pretty vulnerable, but I absolutely do not want the focus to be me. I want it to be on what resonates with the reader, the universal experience that leads to understanding and a sense of belonging. It's a difficult balance!
Emily, your Substack is stunning! Visually it is so pleasing- I love how it looks like a website. I need to up my game-- I'm so inspired by seeing how you present your work there. And your reflective essays are so lovely and resonant. I think authenticity reigns supreme- that readers will find themselves in a voice that speaks clearly, yet softly enough that they can hear themselves think...
I really appreciate this Julie! I've not had an online presence anywhere (other than my spiritual companioning website, which is more a landing place for people seeking information about my practice), so the whole Substack process has definitely been a learning curve and anxiety producing. I love to create spaces of all kinds, physical, spiritual, emotional, so I'm glad to hear that my page is inviting and beautiful. And so grateful for your comment on the writing. I want people to be able to hear themselves think!
Such a thoughtful response. You have voiced what I have worried about in publishing my latest post about navigating real difficulties. I couldn't put it into words (and I pushed post anyway) but inside I was anxious that it might be interpreted as 'poor me' as a victim stance (although I don't go into any details). I wonder how to navigate telling the truth as it is without a nagging feeling of is it TOO much? Is the self doubt trying to tell us something we should listen to or is it just vulnerability? As an artist, vulnerability goes with the territory but putting feelings into words and not just pictures is another level.... as @Richard Donnelly says below, perhaps it's just that artists are masochists!
It's so fraught, isn't it? This may be unfair and even incoherent, but for me it's always been about context. Someone posting something deeply vulnerable and personal on Facebook or Instagram always makes me cringe because it seems to me that so many members of that audience are just random people collected along the way, who represent a cross-section of personal, professional and social lives. Most will ignore your post or tweet or give it a rolleye and think about it long enough for a heart emoji. Whereas an essay in a blog or Substack is meant for those who have indicated an interest in your perspective and a willingness to spend some time with you and your words. Vulnerability suits the context!
Hi Julie this makes a lot of sense to me. I agree, vulnerability on a social media platform can be excruciatingly awkward. I have shared this way once or twice, to explain an absence and the reaction was truly heartwarming and uplifting and understood by many. Again, as you say, it's context I think. To share on a deeply personal basis is very much a double-edged sword and not a decision to be taken lightly.
I think writing is a powerful form of healing. And when we share our truths, with honesty and humility, we touch other people’s truths and that can be very healing for them and us. I like what Julie said as well below about keeping the universality of our painful truths in mind. We are not alone! Victimhood can be very isolating. Tara Brach talks a lot about the wound of separateness and goes to heal it.
Yes Anne this is so true, victimhood is isolating but also like you say, sharing our truth is healing. It helps us to connect to one another and to push those lonely feelings back. I think and feel this although it isn't for everybody I'm sure.
This is beautiful, Julie! I love what you say about keeping an awareness of universal truths in mind, not just individual truths. Community is hard to find online, but as Cheryl says below, it is possible, and I’m so grateful to you and everyone here for contributing such thoughtful responses to this thread and helping to build a community full of meaning and value! It is really exciting to see!!!
Your observation, Julie, about social media making self-absorption and victimhood a competitive sport is spot-on. It’s created a pernicious, performative digital underworld that thrums between the lines the real world, harming our mental health, well-being, and ability to find common ground.
Alas, we can’t turn the clock back, and social media isn’t going anywhere. If anything, new platforms will only continue to proliferate.
The question is how we might use social media with intelligence and integrity to connect and share in meaningful ways. It’s pretty hard and not worth trying, in my view, to approximate any kind of genuine dialogue, like what you have in-person.
But we can gather in online communities—like this one!—where we enjoy the vibe and intentions, whether in likeness or disagreement, and try to contribute creatively and constructively.
I have met or been introduced to many people online—writers, artists, thinkers—far more, frankly, than I would have normally in my “real life.” On this matter, I applaud how technology serves humanity.
These days I’m striving for less online life but higher quality, fewer diatribes or accusations (leave that to the pundits), and more windows and vignettes into lives and times that can be added to, built upon, or in some cases, recast anew by those who share in that motivation.
I refer to it as little snippets of ‘anthropological poetry,’ though our expression as well can be about the non-human world.
Beautiful, Cheryl: “But we can gather in online communities—like this one!—where we enjoy the vibe and intentions, whether in likeness or disagreement, and try to contribute creatively and constructively.” ❤️🙏
Or could greater happiness emerge once truths are acknowledged? Happiness may be the initial outcome but that’s not the end. That has been my experience, anyway.
I was recently telling a friend that I seem to have reached a "truth-telling" period of my life, as several times lately I've found myself telling family secrets of suffering, abuse, and just plain meanness to other family members who have expressed admiration for what looked like a perfect family. I spent my teens and twenties railing against hypocrisy; now, it seems enough to simply tell the plain truth.
This seems to be part of a larger thing that I've been learning lately, is that while yelling is cathartic and satisfying and can be necessary, I seem to have reached a point where I don't want to yell nearly as much. I want to decrease the signal-to-noise ratio, so that the message doesn't get lost in the loudness.
I love the idea of "truth-telling," Monica. I think that kind of honesty and the delivery of it with others and to our own self comes from a place of being grounded and having a sense of who we are. At least, that's been my experience. I have to have a solid space from which to deliver a truth and from which to receive them from others.
I like how you say you have reached a truth-telling period of your life. I believe I have entered a similar phase and I also think that is why I often struggle with the dissonance of beliefs and behaviors I encounter daily as they relate to my own. The world feels so angry and crowded and noisy lately, at least from my corner of it and from my perspective. My tolerance for noise and untruths and disingenuous or unkind behavior has dismissed greatly in recent years.
Typo: I meant “diminished greatly,” not “dismissed greatly.” I love reading all your brilliant perspectives and I simply can’t leave my mistake there to mock me as I scroll!
My feelings are very mixed on this topic. I don't believe she/her people are uniquely more prone to suppressing the truths of their lives. All humans do it. I do like that you seem to approach "truth" as an all-encompassing term that can mean both negative and postive experiences. All to often, "truth" seems to be a euphemism for all the trauma and difficulty one experiences. For me, truth also encompasses moments of good fortune, contentment, malaise, boredom, aches, excitement, grief--all of it. When you look at "truth" with that lens, it becomes very apparent that often women are better at expressing their truth than our male counterparts...especially in our written words. I think "speaking our truths" can often be shorthand for expressing our victimhood and I'd like to collectively stop identifying as victims. I know throughout history we have been victims but if we change how we think about our experiences maybe we can change our place in history moving forward. Alice McDermott said in her book "What About the Baby" that she tries not to read books where the women are victims--an example I follow. Additionally, I try to write female characters without victimhood or who overcome adversity. I know many women who carry heavy personal burdens. I wish for them that they can tell their stories because maybe knowing what they've endured will educate younger generations and because telling one's story is cathartic and healing. It is contradictory to want women to tell their stories and to want to stop reinforcing ideas of female victimhood. I'm sorry but that's where I am at. Yes, tell your journal your truths. Know what they are. Work through them. Teach your children well. Over here, I aspire to create women who I would admire. Women who surely have "truths" but who used them for good. I really appreciate the meditation this morning.
Thank you, Marjorie, for these insights! Yes, I absolutely think our truths mean so much more than victimhood. Thank you for pointing out this common equation. Victimhood is a whole other difficult topic and has so many layers. I think seeing the ways we are feeling like victims (making that conscious) is just the beginning. Identifying how we can feel more empowered is the next step. What do I want? That is such a powerful question to ask. Then, how can I bring that into my life?
I love this post, Anne (and the beautiful photo—I am imagining those are your feet and that I am there with you)!
The tip from the writing coach is especially helpful. I have been writing morning pages for several years now—thanks to Julia Cameron’s Tbe Artist’s Way. Instead of the question, what is your truth today, I have fallen into a pattern of cataloging my previous day—as a way of counting my blessings, or looking at the glass as half full before I start the new day. No one advised me on this exercise—it has emerged as a sort of engrained habit.
Now I am realizing that I have been writing over some truths that are there, deep inside. The catalogue has just burned them more deeply.
I am going to take some more time this morning to rewrite a bit. I can sense some truths that are festering to get out this morning.
Another fan of Morning Pages. It's been nearly 25 years since I first read The Artist's Way and I've been more or less consistent with my practice since. Now, what do to do with all of those journals, stacking up in boxes in my office closet?!
I know! What to do with all of them? Especially with all those truths poured out on the pages . . . One of my good friends who is a therapist told me she had a big burn party before her last move . .
I used to be horrified by people burning their journals and letters (as any fan/scholar of Constance Fenimore Woolson would be), but as I’ve proceeded to fill a fair few myself, I’m thinking it’s a good idea! 😲
Morning pages really are life-changing--I've been writing nearly every morning (or at least every day) for so many years now, I can't imagine going without. I'm interested in trying your reflective practice.
(Also, "Now I am realizing that I have been writing over some truths that are there, deep inside. The catalogue has just burned them more deeply." is such a deeply resonant, beautifully worded statement. Thank you for that.)
This is wonderful, Etta! Acknowledging what are grateful for is also a powerful practice. But as you say, it can also lead to avoiding some of the harder truths.
Making the shift from academic to creative writing has been challenging in lots of ways for me, but particularly in this area of truth-telling. I think that truth starts in our body, in the signals our body gives us about what feels good or right vs. what feels wrong. In my life, I was overriding my body so much, pushing myself through things that felt wrong (in my professional and personal lives), until my body made me face the truth--it made me sick. I've written in the past about my autoimmune disorder, Meniere's disease, which is thankfully so much more under control now that I am more in tune with my body and what feels true to me. (No diets or medications could do what therapy and writing have in terms of lessening my symptoms.) It all started with writing in my journal--really writing about how I was feeling. That was seed for my entire life transformation over these past 3-4 years. I remember the day I did it. It was in August 2020. I can't remember what I said, but I remember the tremendous feeling of relief--and mild terror. What would it mean if I acknowledged how unhappy I was? I knew that my life would crack open. And so it did. I look forward to hearing your thoughts about this topic, which has been noodling around in my brain for a long time now. :)
This makes me think of the proprioceptive writing practice, a combination of writing and meditation that uses physical sensations to go deeper into one's psyche and explore the deeper meanings behind the surface chatter. I've read about it, but have yet to take the time to explore it for myself.
For some reason I am just now reading this part of your post, Anne. I don’t think I realized that August 2020 was the moment. That makes me really think back to May-July 2020 and our communication then. What an important season for you (and for me)! I, too, was journaling a lot and communicating with others—like you—which I think really deepened my self awareness. Thank you for sharing and for sending me back to that time —it’s helping md recall little changes I have made since then.
Amazing, Anne. I love that you are doing this! Great questions for me in this process of getting at the truth that my body knows (as I mention in my post) are: What do I long for? What am I hungry for? What am I afraid to want or acknowledge? Thank you for the mention. 💜
I love these questions!! They are so powerful. I almost quoted them in my thread as well but didn’t want to overwhelm people. I hope they will go and read your post!
Oh wow--thank you! I hadn't thought about how moving from academic to creative writing--which I have been working on, too--does invoke a different kind of bodily awareness. Huh. I definitely want to ruminate on this.
Lovely! I’m so glad you’ve found something inspiring here! And I love your thoughts on meditation. It was a huge game changer for me. I started about Jan. 2021. I don’t do it regularly anymore. But you are reminding me that I need to build it back into my life. Thank you! 🙏
I can't say enough how much I am enjoying this space and the people here! To answer your question Anne, what I call "authenticity" has been a central tenant (and practice), I suppose, of my life for as long as I can remember. I have a memory of being 14 or 15 years old and thinking, "I don't want to be anyone else; I want to be me." And I wanted very much to find out who that "me" was. I'm still discovering her and hope to continue. I believe one of the most fundamental ways I can do that, though, is through a practice of authenticity or truth telling as you say here. So many people have mentioned morning pages. I have never managed them particularly well. I don't do any kind of regular journaling. Perhaps, that will change someday. I do have a decade long meditation practice. And I can give you a start date for that! May 2014. I'll say what plenty of other meditators have also said - meditation rewired my brain and has contributed significantly to my mental, emotional, physical, and yes, spiritual well being. It has helped me see myself and my habits of mind/body more clearly, which has helped me to return over and over to my authenticity, to find it. Exercise, particularly swimming, QiGong and Yin yoga have helped me listen to and locate the truth in my body. I so appreciate you asking these questions because then I get to think and write about them! I love the practice of asking yourself what is true. I'm going to use it with my Spiritual Companioning clients.
I have come to Substack to share more of my truth, to be more open and not feel ashamed of being a sensitive person. I felt crushed by social media towards the end of last year and although I now have some balance again, I decided to be here on Substack to share the good and the challenging and the difficult. I wrote an article this week https://www.anartistinherflow.co.uk/p/navigating-difficult-times
It does feel like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but I wrote it anyway.
I do journal most days it helps keep me connected to myself.
Thank you for writing this.
Dear Susan, what a brave and beautiful piece of writing! I shared some thoughts there, but I will also say that nature and my own inner resources are my pillars. The latter I’ve discovered through journaling. That has meant not only writing down my truths but also finding that deeper, wiser part of myself that can listen and comfort me in my pain. Tara Brach helped me find that voice deep inside. We all have it.
I’ve kept up a journaling practice from my twenties onward. It’s morphed in different ways through the years, for different reasons.
These days I keep several journals: one is a pretty, perfect-bound traditional journal for musing, reflecting, dreaming and kvetching; another is more of creative “notebook,” a messy, informal, spiral-bound collection of my ideas for essays and short stories, as well as tracking submission rejections and acceptances; and finally, I have one notebook, also spiral-bound, that is wholly focused on a book I am trying to write.
Altogether I would say for me these practices are less about a need to tell my truths (though this is certainly part of it)—and more about organizing my interior and creative life so that I bring some sense and form to everything that lives my heart and head.
So interesting, Cheryl! There is getting the truth out, but there is also doing something with it, organizing the interior life, as you say. I love this!
The lines from Muriel Rukeyser became my mantra about a dozen years ago when I began writing about my miscarriages. Those two lines formed a threshold, inviting me to walk through and tell the truth of the keening pain of loss and ultimately, being childless not by choice.
Marjorie's comments about conflating truth-telling with victimhood resonate. Social media has made self-absorption and victimhood a competitive sport and I have profound concerns for the mental health of generations who are raised in this social environment where oversharing and focus on self make them numb to actual suffering. And yet, perversely, we've created an expectation that suffering is to be avoided at all costs, that we all "deserve" to be happy and that we have within ourselves the means to control our own destiny.
What I feel called to as a writer, whether in fiction or in personal essays, is to lean into personal truths in a way that encompasses the universal, that creates community rather than spotlights me as an individual. I find this easier to do in fiction, because I can remove me and pour all of my "truths" into my characters, but I found through years blogging and writing book reviews that when I become personally vulnerable, people respond. So I am thinking into my Substack and how to use that microphone more wisely- how to strike the balance between personal truth and building community. Very much like what you are achieving here, Anne- you are an inspiration!
I really appreciate this Julie. I write personal essays that are pretty vulnerable, but I absolutely do not want the focus to be me. I want it to be on what resonates with the reader, the universal experience that leads to understanding and a sense of belonging. It's a difficult balance!
Emily, your Substack is stunning! Visually it is so pleasing- I love how it looks like a website. I need to up my game-- I'm so inspired by seeing how you present your work there. And your reflective essays are so lovely and resonant. I think authenticity reigns supreme- that readers will find themselves in a voice that speaks clearly, yet softly enough that they can hear themselves think...
I really appreciate this Julie! I've not had an online presence anywhere (other than my spiritual companioning website, which is more a landing place for people seeking information about my practice), so the whole Substack process has definitely been a learning curve and anxiety producing. I love to create spaces of all kinds, physical, spiritual, emotional, so I'm glad to hear that my page is inviting and beautiful. And so grateful for your comment on the writing. I want people to be able to hear themselves think!
I agree with Julie! It is a lovely, thoughtful space you have created, Emily!
Thanks so much Anne!
Such a thoughtful response. You have voiced what I have worried about in publishing my latest post about navigating real difficulties. I couldn't put it into words (and I pushed post anyway) but inside I was anxious that it might be interpreted as 'poor me' as a victim stance (although I don't go into any details). I wonder how to navigate telling the truth as it is without a nagging feeling of is it TOO much? Is the self doubt trying to tell us something we should listen to or is it just vulnerability? As an artist, vulnerability goes with the territory but putting feelings into words and not just pictures is another level.... as @Richard Donnelly says below, perhaps it's just that artists are masochists!
It's so fraught, isn't it? This may be unfair and even incoherent, but for me it's always been about context. Someone posting something deeply vulnerable and personal on Facebook or Instagram always makes me cringe because it seems to me that so many members of that audience are just random people collected along the way, who represent a cross-section of personal, professional and social lives. Most will ignore your post or tweet or give it a rolleye and think about it long enough for a heart emoji. Whereas an essay in a blog or Substack is meant for those who have indicated an interest in your perspective and a willingness to spend some time with you and your words. Vulnerability suits the context!
Hi Julie this makes a lot of sense to me. I agree, vulnerability on a social media platform can be excruciatingly awkward. I have shared this way once or twice, to explain an absence and the reaction was truly heartwarming and uplifting and understood by many. Again, as you say, it's context I think. To share on a deeply personal basis is very much a double-edged sword and not a decision to be taken lightly.
I think writing is a powerful form of healing. And when we share our truths, with honesty and humility, we touch other people’s truths and that can be very healing for them and us. I like what Julie said as well below about keeping the universality of our painful truths in mind. We are not alone! Victimhood can be very isolating. Tara Brach talks a lot about the wound of separateness and goes to heal it.
Yes Anne this is so true, victimhood is isolating but also like you say, sharing our truth is healing. It helps us to connect to one another and to push those lonely feelings back. I think and feel this although it isn't for everybody I'm sure.
This is beautiful, Julie! I love what you say about keeping an awareness of universal truths in mind, not just individual truths. Community is hard to find online, but as Cheryl says below, it is possible, and I’m so grateful to you and everyone here for contributing such thoughtful responses to this thread and helping to build a community full of meaning and value! It is really exciting to see!!!
Your observation, Julie, about social media making self-absorption and victimhood a competitive sport is spot-on. It’s created a pernicious, performative digital underworld that thrums between the lines the real world, harming our mental health, well-being, and ability to find common ground.
Alas, we can’t turn the clock back, and social media isn’t going anywhere. If anything, new platforms will only continue to proliferate.
The question is how we might use social media with intelligence and integrity to connect and share in meaningful ways. It’s pretty hard and not worth trying, in my view, to approximate any kind of genuine dialogue, like what you have in-person.
But we can gather in online communities—like this one!—where we enjoy the vibe and intentions, whether in likeness or disagreement, and try to contribute creatively and constructively.
I have met or been introduced to many people online—writers, artists, thinkers—far more, frankly, than I would have normally in my “real life.” On this matter, I applaud how technology serves humanity.
These days I’m striving for less online life but higher quality, fewer diatribes or accusations (leave that to the pundits), and more windows and vignettes into lives and times that can be added to, built upon, or in some cases, recast anew by those who share in that motivation.
I refer to it as little snippets of ‘anthropological poetry,’ though our expression as well can be about the non-human world.
Beautiful, Cheryl: “But we can gather in online communities—like this one!—where we enjoy the vibe and intentions, whether in likeness or disagreement, and try to contribute creatively and constructively.” ❤️🙏
The problem with the truth is it sometimes interferes with happiness. One has to go, and not many keep the truth.
Or could greater happiness emerge once truths are acknowledged? Happiness may be the initial outcome but that’s not the end. That has been my experience, anyway.
of course but the process takes some guts. Artists do it all the time, but they're masochists anyway : )
I think this is quite probably true! :)
I was recently telling a friend that I seem to have reached a "truth-telling" period of my life, as several times lately I've found myself telling family secrets of suffering, abuse, and just plain meanness to other family members who have expressed admiration for what looked like a perfect family. I spent my teens and twenties railing against hypocrisy; now, it seems enough to simply tell the plain truth.
This seems to be part of a larger thing that I've been learning lately, is that while yelling is cathartic and satisfying and can be necessary, I seem to have reached a point where I don't want to yell nearly as much. I want to decrease the signal-to-noise ratio, so that the message doesn't get lost in the loudness.
(I wrote about this here, what I learned from the singer Phranc's turning her punk song into a folk song: https://open.substack.com/pub/monicacmiller/p/punk-rock-and-grace?r=1ekgn&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web)
I love the idea of "truth-telling," Monica. I think that kind of honesty and the delivery of it with others and to our own self comes from a place of being grounded and having a sense of who we are. At least, that's been my experience. I have to have a solid space from which to deliver a truth and from which to receive them from others.
This is great, Monica! I can relate to railing against hypocrisy when you were younger and entering a period of truth-telling late in life.
I like how you say you have reached a truth-telling period of your life. I believe I have entered a similar phase and I also think that is why I often struggle with the dissonance of beliefs and behaviors I encounter daily as they relate to my own. The world feels so angry and crowded and noisy lately, at least from my corner of it and from my perspective. My tolerance for noise and untruths and disingenuous or unkind behavior has dismissed greatly in recent years.
"My tolerance for noise and untruths and disingenuous or unkind behavior has diminished greatly in recent years."---THIS IS SO TRUE!!!
Typo: I meant “diminished greatly,” not “dismissed greatly.” I love reading all your brilliant perspectives and I simply can’t leave my mistake there to mock me as I scroll!
(I didn't even notice--I read diminished! Typo fixed!)
My feelings are very mixed on this topic. I don't believe she/her people are uniquely more prone to suppressing the truths of their lives. All humans do it. I do like that you seem to approach "truth" as an all-encompassing term that can mean both negative and postive experiences. All to often, "truth" seems to be a euphemism for all the trauma and difficulty one experiences. For me, truth also encompasses moments of good fortune, contentment, malaise, boredom, aches, excitement, grief--all of it. When you look at "truth" with that lens, it becomes very apparent that often women are better at expressing their truth than our male counterparts...especially in our written words. I think "speaking our truths" can often be shorthand for expressing our victimhood and I'd like to collectively stop identifying as victims. I know throughout history we have been victims but if we change how we think about our experiences maybe we can change our place in history moving forward. Alice McDermott said in her book "What About the Baby" that she tries not to read books where the women are victims--an example I follow. Additionally, I try to write female characters without victimhood or who overcome adversity. I know many women who carry heavy personal burdens. I wish for them that they can tell their stories because maybe knowing what they've endured will educate younger generations and because telling one's story is cathartic and healing. It is contradictory to want women to tell their stories and to want to stop reinforcing ideas of female victimhood. I'm sorry but that's where I am at. Yes, tell your journal your truths. Know what they are. Work through them. Teach your children well. Over here, I aspire to create women who I would admire. Women who surely have "truths" but who used them for good. I really appreciate the meditation this morning.
Appreciate these thoughts, Marjorie!
Thank you, Marjorie, for these insights! Yes, I absolutely think our truths mean so much more than victimhood. Thank you for pointing out this common equation. Victimhood is a whole other difficult topic and has so many layers. I think seeing the ways we are feeling like victims (making that conscious) is just the beginning. Identifying how we can feel more empowered is the next step. What do I want? That is such a powerful question to ask. Then, how can I bring that into my life?
I love this post, Anne (and the beautiful photo—I am imagining those are your feet and that I am there with you)!
The tip from the writing coach is especially helpful. I have been writing morning pages for several years now—thanks to Julia Cameron’s Tbe Artist’s Way. Instead of the question, what is your truth today, I have fallen into a pattern of cataloging my previous day—as a way of counting my blessings, or looking at the glass as half full before I start the new day. No one advised me on this exercise—it has emerged as a sort of engrained habit.
Now I am realizing that I have been writing over some truths that are there, deep inside. The catalogue has just burned them more deeply.
I am going to take some more time this morning to rewrite a bit. I can sense some truths that are festering to get out this morning.
Thank you for helping me to do that!
Another fan of Morning Pages. It's been nearly 25 years since I first read The Artist's Way and I've been more or less consistent with my practice since. Now, what do to do with all of those journals, stacking up in boxes in my office closet?!
I know! What to do with all of them? Especially with all those truths poured out on the pages . . . One of my good friends who is a therapist told me she had a big burn party before her last move . .
I used to be horrified by people burning their journals and letters (as any fan/scholar of Constance Fenimore Woolson would be), but as I’ve proceeded to fill a fair few myself, I’m thinking it’s a good idea! 😲
Morning pages really are life-changing--I've been writing nearly every morning (or at least every day) for so many years now, I can't imagine going without. I'm interested in trying your reflective practice.
(Also, "Now I am realizing that I have been writing over some truths that are there, deep inside. The catalogue has just burned them more deeply." is such a deeply resonant, beautifully worded statement. Thank you for that.)
Yes, Monica!
This is wonderful, Etta! Acknowledging what are grateful for is also a powerful practice. But as you say, it can also lead to avoiding some of the harder truths.
Morning pages is a terrific practice.
Agreed--but it's nice to have this prompt of writing truth each day!
Making the shift from academic to creative writing has been challenging in lots of ways for me, but particularly in this area of truth-telling. I think that truth starts in our body, in the signals our body gives us about what feels good or right vs. what feels wrong. In my life, I was overriding my body so much, pushing myself through things that felt wrong (in my professional and personal lives), until my body made me face the truth--it made me sick. I've written in the past about my autoimmune disorder, Meniere's disease, which is thankfully so much more under control now that I am more in tune with my body and what feels true to me. (No diets or medications could do what therapy and writing have in terms of lessening my symptoms.) It all started with writing in my journal--really writing about how I was feeling. That was seed for my entire life transformation over these past 3-4 years. I remember the day I did it. It was in August 2020. I can't remember what I said, but I remember the tremendous feeling of relief--and mild terror. What would it mean if I acknowledged how unhappy I was? I knew that my life would crack open. And so it did. I look forward to hearing your thoughts about this topic, which has been noodling around in my brain for a long time now. :)
This makes me think of the proprioceptive writing practice, a combination of writing and meditation that uses physical sensations to go deeper into one's psyche and explore the deeper meanings behind the surface chatter. I've read about it, but have yet to take the time to explore it for myself.
Proprioceptive writing sounds awesome!
It's a pretty magical process. I wish I could clear more space and time in my life to commit to it fully.
I need to find out more about it! Thanks again.
Very cool. I’d like to try that.
For some reason I am just now reading this part of your post, Anne. I don’t think I realized that August 2020 was the moment. That makes me really think back to May-July 2020 and our communication then. What an important season for you (and for me)! I, too, was journaling a lot and communicating with others—like you—which I think really deepened my self awareness. Thank you for sharing and for sending me back to that time —it’s helping md recall little changes I have made since then.
The pandemic really gave me the time and space to start listening to myself.
Amazing, Anne. I love that you are doing this! Great questions for me in this process of getting at the truth that my body knows (as I mention in my post) are: What do I long for? What am I hungry for? What am I afraid to want or acknowledge? Thank you for the mention. 💜
I love these questions!! They are so powerful. I almost quoted them in my thread as well but didn’t want to overwhelm people. I hope they will go and read your post!
Oh wow--thank you! I hadn't thought about how moving from academic to creative writing--which I have been working on, too--does invoke a different kind of bodily awareness. Huh. I definitely want to ruminate on this.
I hope the ruminating is fruitful, Monica!