Writing as Therapy

There are times, like today, when I could use a friendly ear. The plans were to cook breakfast for relatives, but plans were changed. To fill the void and express myself, I decided to vent via my blog.  So, whoever reads this post, I thank you for lending a shoulder and for listening.

When I first was diagnosed with the disease in 2000, I found that one of the best comforts was in writing.  Twelve years later I continue to use this tool as a vehicle to express myself and release my emotions. It has been my experience that most people want to offer unsoliticed advice; each person seems to be a Health Guru.  All this chatter adds to the confusion. When I write, I later read the words, and that is when I receive many answers.

Writing is peaceful: I can write whatever I am feeling without any interruptions. Writing is empowering: I can say why I am feeling a certain emotion. Writing is spiritual: I know God is listening. Writing is therapeutic: I can say whatever I need to say. Writing is healing: It helps fill the void whenever I want human company. (I clarified about the "human company" because I do have a pet chihuahua and I am aware that God is with me always.)  Writing is nurturing: it expands my creativity.

In 2000 the oncology nurse suggested I maintain a journal. Currently, I have four journals: one for my dreams, one for my creative writing, one for notes on my book, and one for research ... oh, and I must tell you about the fifth one (I know, I said I had four). The fifth one is Letters to the Medical Community. Of course, I won't mail any of these "letters."  (I'll include one of these "letters" in a future blog.)

As I mentioned earlier, my plans today were abruptly changed.  Rather than become ujpset or feel sorry for myself, I grabbed one of my BFFs (the pen) and wrote this poem:

"Sunshine in the Rain"
by Sandra Fernandez-Henderson

"Amidst a winter storm
I see sunshine in the rain,
a rainbow in the horizon   that tells me of brighter days again.
I welcome the sound of raindrops,
swirling wind, and crackling thunder
these gifts of Nature
in all its majestic wonder.
I smell the scent of purity
in the crispness of stormy air,
and absorb the fragrance within
as a reminder that angels are there.
I watch in awe as I gaze upon
the plants and flowers.
They seem to be applauding and smiling
while they welcome the stormy showers.
And as I open my mouth
to taste angelic tears,
I know these celestial beings
comfort me during each storm

and help erase the fears."

Even if writing is not your "thing", I would strongly encourage you to maintain a journal during your healng/grieving process. You might even surprize yourself!