Women's Empowerment Stories ...

Material for Miracles
~ Kathie Sutherland

This morning I woke to the howl of a bitter wind whipping around the corner of the house. As I made the morning coffee, staring out past the snow swirling in the light by the back door, I shivered, glad I could curl up on the couch with a cup of hot coffee and my journal. I thought about all the folks creeping along the icy highway, kids trudging off to school with scarves pulled up and toques pulled down. I felt grateful for my warm slippers and the hot air blowing from the furnace register.

But even in this cozy setting, so early in the morning it was still dark, I felt discouraged. My Inner Critic was hard at work, bossing me around, telling me I was lazy. She was nagging me to quit procrastinating, finish up all my old projects before I took on any more, like she always does when I’m in “busy” mode. I decided a little conversation with her might be in order, and I invited her to sit down with me on the page.

The first thing she said to me. “You’ve spent entirely too much time and money on your memoir manuscript to just let it sit and collect dust. You think you’re some kind of lady of the manor, sitting around in your housecoat half asleep! You really should get moving. You could be working on it right now, you know.”

I countered with an admission I’d been avoiding working on my book proposal. And she jumped right in with a snotty remark, “You just don’t have the right clarity or focus. And there’s no substance anyway. I really doubt anyone would be interested in your work.” The more I wrote, the more she reminded me of all the possibilities for rejection that might come my way if I actually did put my stories out into the cold world.

Then I took a break to refill my coffee cup and it occurred to me that creating for the mere joy of it is what I like to do, rather than getting caught up in old worries about approval and good enough-ness. Creating gives me a sense of wonder and awe at the power of the writing process. Why can’t the Critic understand that it’s enough just to express the journey of self-discovery?

As I stared past the frosty art on my living room window, I wondered about the allure journaling has for me, even after all these years of putting creative energy into essays, articles, and stories. My writing is subjective, personal and precious, and I get a bit defensive about criticism from my real-life editor because the themes feel so close to my heart.

The publication process is about writing for others, stepping back from the personal, writing for an audience. For me, it’s hard to find authenticity and speak my truth when I have to deal with publishers and editors, not to mention dealing with my own criticisms. But journaling is another matter. For one thing, on my notebook pages, I can be honest about what I say. The Critic would tell me I’m selfish, driven by self-centered goals, and not able to receive feedback. She’d rather I step away from the journey into myself because she thinks it’s dangerous to admit to vulnerability. Up until recently, she’s been successful in stifling the voice I use to express my needs, choosing instead to focus on others. Each time I speak up, I get a little braver; step farther out over the line, away from the comfort zone, and I stand my ground a little longer.

Journaling is a private thing, for my eyes only, without progress checkmarks, correct structure or form. So now, when Critic starts to nag about making my writing say what magazine audiences want to hear, I defy her demands, and remind her that my spiritual journey is to celebrate writing by sharing my inner observations with openness and joy.

The miracle of journaling lies in the palette of empowerment tools available to me. I am awed by all the ways to dig out purpose. All the ways to love who I am, and feel grateful for my gifts. All the ways to cover myself with a warm, word-spun cloak of hope and forgiveness.

As I set these words on the page, I look outside and can almost see the Critic, where she’s been standing out in the cold with her back to the harsh wild wind. In my heart, I invite her to come in, and ask if I can borrow her exceptional editorial talents to help me create fine art from the raw material on my journal pages.

~ Kathie Sutherland

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