Pen, Paper & People: the Write Way to Recovery

There are approximately 50.2 million adults in America who are in recovery from substance use/and or mental health problems.

Recovery is real!

Definitely something to celebrate.

And that’s exactly what we’re doing in September, which is National Recovery Month. At this time we honor the achievement of individuals in recovery from substance use disorders and mental health conditions.

Speaking of which, my sister, Laura Griffith, founder and former Executive Director of Recover Wyoming, just celebrated her 22^nd sobriety birthday and you can bet we celebrated that.

With cake!

September is also the month we honor the variety of tools people use to aid them in their recovery journey.

Today, I want to talk about how writing is one of those tools.

Writing is not a way of escaping reality. It is a way of engaging with it more completely. Ursula K. LeGuin

One of the great things about writing is how little the upfront investment is: you can start with a pen/pencil and a piece of paper and off you go.

You can write with others or you can write alone.

WRITE TOGETHER

Writing can be like folding a banquet-sized tablecloth;

you can do it yourself, but it’s a lot easier when you can find somebody to help.

Ted Kooser and Steve Cox, Writing Brave and Free: Encouraging Words for People Who Want to Start Writing

For five years I led the In Our Own Words writing group at a treatment center for women in Pine Bluffs, Wyoming. It’s something I wrote about in a short essay that was published in the This I Believe archives. You can read it here.

The women in the Pine Bluffs group shared and grew through writing, as did I, because I wrote and shared along with them. I learned so much, especially about the magic of putting thoughts and feelings on paper, and then hearing yourself speak the words out loud. It’s transformative.

Through a friend, writer Michelle Nicolaysen (who blogs at Vegetarian Ranchwife) I recently learned about another type of writing group: Recovery Writers.

I’ll let the creator and leader, Christine Beck, tell you all about it.

Recovery Writers began about eight years ago at my kitchen table when I invited some friends from Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA), and Overeaters Anonymous (OA) to join me in short writing exercises. I used poems that I had written as a prompt. We wrote in silence for 20 minutes and then read what we had written.

I soon realized that no matter what 12 step program the writers were in, they all shared certain characteristics and found healing in recovery through both writing and sharing. This was the genesis for a formal meeting, which I created as an ACA meeting three years ago. We organized the meeting using ACA readings at the beginning and end, but otherwise we use the same format: listen to a poem, receive a couple of ideas for writing, write for 20 minutes in silence, and then share in breakout rooms on Zoom (three writers in each room).

There are about 30 writers who come every Friday morning at 11 AM to Recovery Writers. The group also spawned other Recovery Writer groups.

After our Friday meeting, people have an opportunity to share about the experience of writing and sharing. Last week, a man said that he had spoken in his breakout room of something that he had not told anyone for 30 years. We also hear people tell stories of childhood sexual abuse and other extremely personal topics without fear of judgment. Again and again people share in the meeting that they feel totally safe and totally heard.

One of the reasons for this is that this is not a typical workshop or critique group. In responding to each other’s work,  we call the “voice of the inner loving parent.” This means we say things such as “You have been heard,” and “I see recovery in your piece,” and “I relate to the part about XYZ,” or “I notice you repeated a line that I found very compelling.” Our goal is to affirm the writer and relate. We do not give advice.

We tell writers what they wished to hear in childhood, which is that they are perfect just as they are and that they have been heard and we want to hear from them every week. I am astonished to hear people say how meaningful this meeting is in their lives.

Recovery Writers has helped me stay connected to my recovery community, which is always important. After a certain number of years of recovery, it is so easy to become complacent and think “I’ve got this.” But hearing people share reminds me that I am for many of them, the only voice of the inner loving parent that they are able to hear today and that is a benefit to me because I get to practice a voice that I can then use in my life outside the rooms.

Many of the writers have posted their work on the Adult Children of Alcoholics website in the Comline blog. You can read some of them here.

Thanks to Christine for sharing this example of writing with others. The Recovery Writers group is a simple concept, but so, so powerful and inspiring. Service in action. I have a ton of respect for Christine and others who use their lived experience to help people find and maintain their recovery!

Christine gave me permission to share one of the poems she uses to spark writing in the groups, along with a brief discussion of how she sees it pertaining to recovery.

Musical Chairs

When I was five, when I had

one pink party dress, one pair

of white socks with eyelet trim,

when life seemed filled with not enough.

A party game that seemed designed

by monsters or an evil witch.

Peppy music played, I skipped around

a row of chairs, anticipating cake

and goody bags.

As soon as I was lulled into my role

in this fairy tale, as soon as I heard

Disneyworld, or beach vacation, or

Good Job, Sweetie. You’re the best--.

The music stopped.  Stunned.

Pause. And in that pause, the other

clever children, grabbed a chair,

nudged me over, sat down quick.

I stood.  They stared. 

Some kindly grownup took my

hand and leaned me up against the wall.

Where I’m still standing, in the land

of not enough to go around.

Connection to Recovery:

The game of Musical Chairs connects to childhood vigilance, watching everybody carefully to be sure I didn’t get left out.  It also relates to my belief that there was not enough of anything (food, love, affirmation) to go around. Being left standing up when all the other children were sitting down contributed to my sense of shame, of everybody looking at me as a failure. The voice that lulled me like the music was what I longed to hear, but didn’t. Yet in the “turn” at the end, a kindly grownup appears to take my hand and lead me to safety at the wall.

If you want to know more…

Christine has put her recovery story, along with poems and prompts into a book, “Beneath the Steps: A Guide for Writers in 12 Step Recovery.”

WRITE ALONE

If you want to supplement the writing you do with others, or aren’t ready to join a writing group yet, can I suggest journaling?

This is a safe place.

No one can enter but you.

Listen to yourself.

Write your way home.

Heidi Sander

Journaling is another great tool for people in or seeking recovery, or just for human beings in general. I’ve been doing it every morning for about 18 years now, and it’s not only the foundation of my creative writing, I will go so far as to call it my spiritual practice.

It’s my daily check in with my mind and spirit, and I make discoveries all the time.

As a practice, journaling couldn’t be simpler. You don’t need a fancy leatherbound journal. A 39 cent notebook from Walmart will work just fine. I like to collage the front of mine, for fun.

No special skills needed. Just write down the date and go. Morning, noon, or night—whatever works for your schedule.

Note: this is not a diary to track your activities or an excuse to rant (well, maybe a little bit of ranting, but not too much). This is you, putting into words all that is on your heart and mind, and remember: nobody is checking spelling or grammar.

The internet is full of information and ideas for journaling. Here’s a discussion of its use in recovery.

So how about it? Let's write away: together, or alone, or both.

Happy National Recovery Month!