The following is a précis of a sentence in a recent email sent to all Script Frenzy writers, received from the new Executive Director of the Office of Letters and Light, Grant Faulkner: Writing at its most fundamental is about connecting, so I look forward to connecting with you (online, coffee groups, parties, etc) through my words.  I have registered to take up this crazy Script Frenzy, hoping I might be able to develop my personal story of living with dementia into a script, a challenge quite similar to the NaNoWriMo one last November. I suspect I won’t make it this year, but I love receiving and reading the words and opinions of others, as there is so much for us to learn if we are willing to open our minds and hearts.

Deena Metzger writes in her book “Writing for your life: A guide and companion to the Inner Worlds (1992) ” about how ‘writing shapes and informs our lives, and how our “silence” hinders us’. She is talking about the silence of memories we have hidden from the difficult times in our lives, for example when a soldier does or sees horrific things, often he won’t experience it in the moment, and the stories he will tell afterwards will carefully hide the reality of what happened in the moment, by embellishing the experience.

Reliving the actual moment of any painful experience is agonising, and takes a lot of energy, and Metzger recommends writing as a way to heal. I have found this to be true, and have been ‘writing for my life’ for almost 50 years. When I was a child, I often used to hide in the bathroom to write on toilet paper, as it was a way for me to express myself, something that was not encouraged, but rather frowned upon. We were told to be ‘seen and not heard’ as children. Writing meant I could get out what was upsetting me, and then flush it away so there was no chance of my words hurting others. Writing does heal, and it has allowed me to manage every difficult experience, to navigate my way around it and through it in order to not only understand it, but to find ways for it to make me stronger and more resilient.

Writing about the painful stuff does not mean you have to share it with others, although doing that helps healing as a shared burden is one that is reduced through the act of sharing. The expression of pain is what helps, and writing about it privately allows you to sift through things and heal, and sometimes you won’t need to share at all. Sharing burdens, as well as the good times is what I had once thought my really good friends and family would want to do, but this is not always so. Therefore healing yourself must be your responsibility. Finding ways to heal is difficult, even accepting there are things we have been through that need revisiting and healing is confronting. I liken writing about your inner pain to having a badly infected wound, and the only way to heal is to get the pus out. If I had not written throughout my life, the ‘silence’ would have hampered my existence, hindered my ability to get up every time I fell over, or my chance of ‘healing the pus’.

I hope some of you are finding writing or other creative expression healing, and I love hearing your stories and poems, reading your recipes and seeing your photography. My Conversations Page, which is where I am writing for the Kick Off 2012 with Project 366, has become my online kitchen where you can drop in for a cup of tea and a chat. As it feels like my kitchen I am now adding recipes, things I have often just made up when the cupboard looked bare and everyone loved (and I have remembered to write it down), plus recipes for seasonal fruits or vegetables, like Maggie Beer’s  recipe today for quince paste. This recipe is well worth the effort. My journey will continue with or without others to share it with, but the accompaniments to my ride will be writing and food, which is definitely my way to connect with others. Write, cook, love, listen, iron, share, and heal…