Heal With Your Pen

At January 06, 2017
By Karina Machado
In My books, The spiritual path, This writer's life
4

The words came to me in a meditation. I wrote them down: HEAL WITH YOUR PEN. Since that morning, almost a year ago, I have come to understand so much more about what those four words signify.

Heal with your pen. At first I thought that was a pointer for my own life, that I would heal myself by writing my story, that I would evolve—progress on the spiritual path and thus “heal”—through sharing my experiences, be it in books, blog posts or on social media. Yes, I thought, that feels right.

I have always understood the healing power of stories.

But there was more, I realised, as I began to meet women who have extraordinary life stories they are bursting to explore. I say “bursting” because of the readiness with which they shared their life journeys with me. In a way, we seem magnetised to each other. What an honour. One of these women, Lisa, has become a dear friend (a true Spirit Sister rediscovered!) and I am honoured to be writing her biography this year. What a task, what a joy, what a story.

“Spirit sis” Lisa is on the left.

All the women I’ve met share this in common: I marvel—marvel and bow down—at what they have endured, and how they have emerged on the other side, as teachers of love and grace and resilience. Meeting such women made me wonder; Am I to use my pen to serve them? Will I write, edit or publish their stories? All three perhaps? Me, a publisher?! I don’t feel like anything is impossible with spirit at the helm.

Lately, something else has become apparent. I am being drawn to HEAL WITH MY PEN by encouraging others to do the same. In this scenario, my pen will offer tips and pointers to help people heal themselves by freeing their stories. For example, later this year, I have been asked to talk about writing and storytelling to children who’ve suffered trauma. I am thrilled to do so.

I have also been sharing my story verbally at a couple of talks. So to heal with my pen has permutations, as I am discovering. Thinking of stories, and of the healing power of sharing them, reminds me of something I read the other day. There are myriad names for that universal force that connects us all: many call it God, others call it the Universe, some describe it as Divine Intelligence, in scientific circles, it is “the field,” in Aboriginal culture it is “the Dreaming” and in certain Native American traditions it is the Great Spirit. Ultimately though, all the names can only point to that unfathomable vastness that cannot be contained by any name, as the Tao te Ching teaches: “The name that can be named is not the eternal name.” I accept that, and yet I love this description I came across in an old prayer:

God—that is, that which goes by many names and none—is “the author of love.” And love, of course, is the ultimate story that heals.