Writing workshop unlocks treasures
I’ve recently had the opportunity to facilitate a writing workshop for residents of St. Leonard Retirement Community in Centerville. I created the idea because I wished to help those in the seasoned period of their lives to uncover the treasured stories. Transferring such rich narratives from the safe-kept crevices of the mind to prose on paper has the potential to be abundantly profound. Reflecting offers perspective. Most of us have no idea how impactful we’ve been in the world, so to legitimize a journey by writing about it is inspiring.
During our first session together, the conversation was generous and kind. Along with the 12 participants, we sat together around two round tables haphazardly pushed together. The setting was inviting. I found myself enamored and engaged by the demeanor of our group. I was struck by the open and gracious willingness to unlock the treasure box of their life memories. The undertow of mutual support was simple and sure. It didn’t take me long to realize this was a really good thing.
Having written a memoir, I realize the challenge of remembering. It’s easy to say, for example, “I went for a walk today.” It’s more challenging to describe the walk. The feel of the wind, the sounds of the birds tucked among the nearby branches, the squeals of children running around in an adjacent playground, or (in my case) how long can I go before I just have to remove that annoying, miniscule-sized pebble that somehow landed in the sole of my shoe; they are all notable. Space to reflect the experience can turn a simple walk into a memorable chapter of a really good book.
The morning of our first workshop session was revealing, disarming and gentle. I felt like I was on a raft floating along the lazy river as I listened to the cadence of stories shared. The discussion exchange was generous and respectful. Our time together left me wanting to know more about the lives of the incredible people I was fortunate to share a first morning with. It didn’t take long for the discussion exchange to enter the realm of generosity and respect. We teased one another with tidbits of stories that begged to be told.
I’ve been on the participant end of writing workshops. Local author Katrina Kittle, through her workshop many years ago, jumpstarted me into believing I could craft my story with an effective connection of words. Her guidance had a profound impact on me. Now, in a full-circle moment, I find myself trying to impart the same encouragement for these incredible people of St. Leonard.
Both my parents have been gone for some time now. Although I knew a great deal about the occurrences of their lives, I wish I could have just one more day so that I could ask them more. So many questions remain, yet the opportunity to know more about their personal narratives has passed. Serendipity has placed me with the inspirational people of St. Leonard. I am so excited about encouraging my new friends to not only recount the experiences of their lives, but to also receive the follow-up questions. “So, tell me more ...” is sometimes all we have to ask. There is so much to impart, so much meaning in the everyday and so much experience that has impacted our lives.
I can’t wait until next time with our writing group. In the meantime, I encourage you to start jotting down your thoughts. I shared a quote by author Jodi Picoult with my group, and I impart her wise and encouraging words with you. “You can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.”