Writing all the Wrongs Sets Us Free

Nearly all of the best people I know are in recovery from something – trauma, addiction, mental illness, and/or a million forms of self destruction. Without exception, I find within each of us an incredible capacity for empathy and a talent we hide from the world. I urge folks to write, draw, paint, sing, and otherwise bare their soul to themselves, to another human being, and to a power greater than ourselves. It changes everything.

Create something powerful that tells your story. It’s both a form of rebellion and the key to transformation.

The bravest/most determined of us sometimes bring what we create out into the world in hopes that it will speak to others and open doors for them. We are connected – not only by our pain but by our shared struggles to become happy, joyous, and free.

Most aspects of recovery are counter intuitive. Too many of us continue to fight great battles within ourselves. It takes a lot to accept the adage: Surrender to Win. This concept is illustrated perfectly in the poem below. I wish I could give credit to the writer. She shared this with me anonymously and it’s way too good not to share:

My bully: She mocks me stalks me haunts me taunts me beats me cheats me. She defeats me. Every scar and every sin and every doubt and every scar and every hole and every loss and every fall; her arsenal. Beaten, bleeding, broken, whore. Beaten, bleeding, broken, whore. Getting up is grounds for more, So lay there broken on the floor.

My Savior: He loves me Treats me Holds me Feeds me Heals me Keeps me He redeems me Every lie and every sin and every doubt and every scar and every hole and every loss and every fall He cleans them all. Beaten, bleeding, broken, whore Beaten, bleeding, broken whore Surrendering all my control He mends each break Repairs my soul

My battle. It chains me, drains me, steals me, finds me, stains me, binds me. It defines me. Every lie and every sin and every doubt and every scar and every hole and every loss And every fall – release or wall Beaten, bleeding, broken. Me. Beaten, bleeding, broken. Me Choosing what I want to be. Worthy, new or lost, unseen.

To the amazing woman who dropped these powerful words in my mailbox: You are worthy of a life second to none.

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