By 1996, I had written two books, had publishers interested in both, and had walked away each time. Finally, in complete frustration, I gave up the dream of being a writer (I Abandon A Book – Again!). I still felt something was locking up my writing, but I had no idea what it was.
I spent several pretty miserable years not writing, believing I’d never get down to the bottom of the mysterious hangup that had effectively killed my path with heart. I moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico in 2002, returning to the part of the country where I had grown up. I began working with a healer — not quite a therapist, but someone who worked more intuitively. She came highly recommended, and I decided to give her methods a try.
We began working around the area of creativity. After some preliminary discussion and note taking, she did some energy work on me. She said there was something really deeply buried in my subconscious, and it had to do with writing. So now at least, I knew there might be a tangible origin to this block.
I had always thought my writer’s block was centered around my Dad shaming my poetry when I was 14 (I Walk Away From Publication), and had never considered another cause. In desperation as much as anything else, I decided to try a writing exercise – a conversation with my inner child. I had done those exercises successfully before, pulling to the surface buried memories of violence acted out on me by my Dad during my teenage years.
I was willing to go to any lengths at this point, so I decided to go the extra mile. In October 2003 I drove up to Farmington, the small town in Northwest New Mexico where I had lived from ages 5 through 16. I had some very good memories about that town, and somehow sensed this was the right thing to do — it was in that town that my inner child last remembered the feeling of being safe. And the safest place of all – in that town or any town — was the library. Librarians were the ultimate arbiters of quiet and safety. Even as a young child I knew that if something bad were to start at the library, the librarian would handle it, calling the police if necessary. So after checking in to a motel, I drove over to the library.
When I had done inner child exercises before, they had been in the format of what I heard called a Gestalt exercise or empty chair exercise. I would sit in one chair as the adult, and speak to the inner child. Then I would stand up, go and sit in the other chair, and answer as the child. But this time, it felt right to do it as a written exercise.
I set up at a table in the back of the library and pulled out a legal pad. I sat quietly and let myself relax for a few minutes, then I began to write. As I wrote from the adult perspective, I sensed that the child answering was around eight years old. I had for several years called that inner child Danny, or Little Danny Fear Child, because I could visualize a frightened young child sitting in a corner. I was hoping to set him free, so we could let go of the Fear Child part.
____________
“Danny, are you ready to tell me what I can’t see? About why we get locked up on our writing? You know, the thing the therapist said was really buried. Danny, it’s time for us to write. Therefore we must let go of that old block. Can you understand that? You are safe now. And free to write. I will take care of you. Letting go of this block will lead to great, great joy. Are you OK with all of this? OK then, so just tell me. Just blurt it out — no shame, no blame.”
Danny talking. “I was afraid if I wrote and someone read it, they would not like me because I told the truth. If you tell the truth, people will know what’s going on in the family. They’ll know our family’s not all fine — and they might not like me.”
“OK, what else? Do deeper — what’s underneath that?”
“OK, you really want to know?”
“Yes, I do. Please tell me.”
“I knew when I was very young I was going to be a famous writer.”
“Yes?”
“If I wrote and got published and people read my stuff and I got famous, they might think I was weird or something, and not want to be around me. And I’d be lonely. It would separate me from all the other people who didn’t write and I’d be alone — again. I’ve been alone too much and I didn’t want that. So I would lock up.”
“Why would you be alone?”
“Because writers are crazy — everybody knows that. And nobody wants to be around them.”
“Who told you that?”
“Mamaw did.” (Paternal grandmother)
“When?”
“When I went to visit her in Fort Worth (during summer vacation). I was about eight. She asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I told her I wanted to be a famous writer. She said I didn’t want to do that. Writers were crazy and if I were a writer people wouldn’t want to be around me. They might have to put me away — lock me up somewhere. I didn’t want that.”
“Where were you when she told you that?”
“We were in her house. I felt smothered by her always, but right then I felt killed.”
“What did she look like when she said that?”
“She saw the look on my face, and she smiled. It was a cruel ‘I won’ kind of smile.”
“What was the look on your face?”
“I’m sure it was horrified. My heart hurt, my face hurt and I wanted to cry.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Well, she kept saying it — all that week — until I wanted to go to Big Mommy’s (maternal grandmother) to get away. But I couldn’t tell anyone about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mamaw was a nurse, and she worked for Doctor R.. She said he had told her that (about me being locked up), so he must know because he was a doctor. And she must know, because she was a nurse. And she said don’t tell anyone. They might think you were crazy just for asking and lock you up for that.”
“Danny ….”
“Yes?”
“Do you understand that what she said was not true?”
“Kind of. Sort of.”
“Remember what Mom told you about writers one time?”
“Sort of.”
“She told you that writers were held in the highest regard. That they were revered in the world she grew up in. They were tremendously respected. Remember that?”
“Yes, I remember. But she told you. She didn’t tell me. And I didn’t know if you believed it or if I could trust you about it being true.”
“I understand. But it was true, and it is true. You will not be called crazy and get locked up if you are a famous writer. You will be honored, revered and respected as a person who sees and speaks truth. That is the truth. We’ll take all the time you need for you to get comfortable with that. OK?”
“Yes, that’s OK. I believe you now.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Relieved.”
“Why?”
“Because I really, really want to write, and it made me very sad when I knew I must not.”
“So you could write all along, but you thought you must not?”
“Oh yes, I could write any time I wanted to but there was, you know, the crazy thing. So it was safer not to write, because I didn’t want to be locked up.”
“OK, Danny, you just relax, and enjoy thinking about writing. And you and I will release that old belief. So you can write freely and fully — with joy.”
“OK. I can do that. I am happy now.”
____________
So there it was. Now I knew what had locked up my writing and why I had walked away from publication. The writing exercise had just flowed easily, and hadn’t taken that long. Little Danny had been ready to unburden the secret he had been forced to keep for 45 years. This revelation was a huge thing to absorb. Later I was to discover there was more to be revealed. But for now, this was quite enough. What to do about it I’d have to figure that out later. For right now I just wanted to let the truth sink in.
Photo Credits
“Big Chain” Shaycam @flickr.com Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.
“Multi lock, etc” Mikebaird @flickr.com Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.
Janet says
Amazing to me that you can share this so easily. I am sure that’s a result of your healing. I still don’t talk about my doubts, fears, blocks, etc. often, even though I think I know some of their root causes. I’m working out my blocks by writing: fiction, poetry, web-content articles, blogs, tweets, whatever. Anything that flows out of me, but writing about my self? That’s hard work.
I’m sorry that you had to deal with that sort of mental and emotional abuse. I think often those caretakers mean well, they want us to be successful, or at least solvent. The emotional abuse come in all forms. My parents encouraged my writing. Actually, they expected it since it was my “God-given gift.” I was blessed to be intelligent and capable, so I needed to live up to my ability. My mom, especially, expected perfection. I still hear her corrections and criticisms, both in person and in my head (my inner editor has a British accent). And, yes, I know that smile. I still am anxious about talking to her about my writing, and I think one thing that holds me back is knowing she will read anything I do publish. With a mother’s pride, yes, but also with a sharp critic’s eye. And tongue.
I kept journals for years when I was younger. They were my outlet, my inner voice, my confidantes. My mother read them, and used them against me. My best friend/dorm-mate read one also, i know. Worst of all, my abusive ex-husband read some poetry I had written and “reacted”. I no longer can journal. I am in a safe relationship now, and supported in my writing, but it is still hard to share. I don’t talk to most of my friends or family about my blog (though the links are available for the curious who bother), nor do I share writing with them. So, naturally, I hesitate and stress over sharing it with the publishing world.
Sorry to write so much. I guess I needed to get it out. Thank you.
Dan L Hays says
Janet –
Thank you so much for your great feedback and insights! Yes, I’ve done a lot of healing and recovery work around the crazy things my grandmother said and did. It does make it easier to talk about it and share what happened. Actually, this series of articles is going to lead to my next memoir, where I combine it all and share that whole healing process. I haven’t gotten to all the abuse and there are more inner child exercises like this one that led me to the whole truth.
I think it’s wonderful that you write so freely and that you are using it as a way to heal and work through your blocks. I wholly believe in the power of that process. In fact, I just bought a book called “Writing As A Way of Healing” by Louise DeSalvo that apparently validates that whole process. I haven’t read it yet and am eager to get started. It was suggested in fact by the wonderful editor of this magazine, Kerry Slavens – interesting how there’s a synergy in exploring things like this writer’s block I’ve been working through.
I think it is a powerful statement that your parents encouraged your writing as your “God-given gift.” I do hear the double edged sword of the supportive Mom with the critic’s eye and tongue. That would be a mixed blessing, for sure. I can’t believe your Mom would read your journals, and use them as ammunition. The boundary violation of that is astonishing. Sounds like it happened a lot – the dorm-mate and ex-husband. I would be horrified if anyone read my journals without permission.
Yes, facing publication can be a daunting task. Interestingly I just talked about this with my college aged niece who is a gifted writer but wonders if she has “true talent.” I shared with her that the reality is all of us writers face that question – I wonder if I know what I’m doing, and if anyone will want to read it? I think it just goes with the territory.
I’m honored that you chose to share so vulnerably with me Janet. I’d love to hear from you again! Keep me posted as to your writing journey!
Regards,
Dan
Bruce Elkin says
Dan, I appreciate the risk and courage it took to go back to that town and do the exercise. And delighted that you got to at least some part of the deep confusion that was holding you back. I hope you’re using what you learned to let go of your reliance on mamaw’s beliefs and strengthen your hold on your own and your mother’s beliefs that writing is an esteemed profession.
In my coaching work, I often find that people get stuck for similar reasons. They have conflicting beliefs, hidden fears and doubts, and then organize them in what I call a “yeah, but … ” framework. “Yeah, I want to write, but what about going crazy?”
The energy of the yeah is negated by the negative energy of the but. Another way to approach this is to use a “Yes and… ” framework. “Yes I want to write and I have an old belief that writers are crazy. Hmm…? How then should I proceed?” The point is that the “Yes, and…” framework maintains and increases the energy of the “yes” and almost always leads to action.
All the best!
B.
Dan L Hays says
Thanks Bruce, for honoring the risk I took in doing this exercise. There are more exercises I did – and will share in upcoming articles – that will reveal the balance of that deep confusion that was holding me back. Even publishing this article was a healing experience, to expose the craziness of Mamaw’s messages to the light of day and help them evaporate.
Yes, I’m using this well – I’ve published my first book, and have several more planned. This series of articles is actually helping me explore my next book – about uncovering the damaging messages of Mamaw that limited me for so many years. If read chronologically by date of publication, they are how that book will unfold.
Thanks, Bruce! 🙂
Michael Lebowitz says
Hey Dan: As always, thoughtful feeling and well written.
In my list of lessons learned while not writing ( possibly a new series to go along with lessons learned a marathon camp) I think the first one might be “Michael, that voice in your head? NOT your friend.” After that you do with it what you will to learn to dance so to speak…i used drugs and whiskey to make friends with that voice. Nowadays it is simpler, we talk together and between me and my inner (kenyan if I’m running, child if i want to be kind and fearless and present, thief if my finances are tight, and like that) whatever we quiet the voice, recognize that it will always exist and make the best effort we can to listen to the better angels of our nature( Mr. A. Lincoln said that.)
Dan L Hays says
Thanks Michael! Yes, I know what you mean about not listening to that voice in my head, but sort of find a way to dialogue. I discovered years ago that if I try to force (like I was forced as a child) Danny would tell me to kiss off, sit down and do nothing! This whole exercise I wrote about was me trying to find a better way, and to listen to the hurt child, who really wanted to write all along! Amazing how that changed the dynamic. I hear you on how the inner changes – mine would shift depending on the circumstances, like your kenyan, child, thief – and I had to figure that one out too!
Thanks as always for your thoughtful comments!
Shanyn says
Dan, and with utmost respect to the young Danny, your words struck a heart deep chord with me. I hardly know where to begin but I am starting to believe that my current block which has stopped me almost fully with writing and art comes from the wrong ‘truths’ I was told as a young child when I was brave and foolish enough to confess my dreams and aspirations. I dreamt of being a writer and of being an artist. I was smugly told, with THAT smile, that artist die starving and crazy because they are never famous until they are dead or unless they do terrible things. I was told I was too soft headed and hearted to be a good writer, no one would believe what I said. I’ve hardly ever trusted journals or a diary – my life was never allowed to have private enough moments or spaces for that. Once, when I was about 13 or 14 I made an envelope and inside I put pieces of me, literally, and I hid it away hoping that one day if I was ‘gone’ that someone would find it and know I existed at all. How sad that I remember exactly so many thefts from my creative child, and yet I don’t recall the one that blocks me as soon as my art or my words get any attention. Where is it? You’ve inspired me to keep looking. Thank you for sharing, for writing and for your openness! Bright blessings!
Dan L Hays says
Thank you Shanyn for sharing how deeply this article has resonated with you. It is astonishing how deeply these blocks can cut, and how thoroughly they can dam up the waters of our creativity! Amazing that you had messages so similar to these I received about the fate of artists! “Starving and crazy because they are never famous until they are dead …” I wonder if somehow a generation got that message, and where in the world it came from?
Your life was never allowed to have private enough moments to journal. Look at what Lisa shared above about a similar experience. You just made me realize that I never even considered journaling – which makes sense after I was 8 years old that I wouldn’t want to capture what I was really feeling, and I think I’d have had a similar fear of those private thoughts being read!
Astonishing that you put pieces of yourself in an envelope at around age 14, so someone would later discover you had existed. Astonishing how divorced we are by that age from our true selves!
I do know that my blocks have been so deep it took a while to coax that scared Little Danny Fear Child out to tell me, but here’s the other thing I know. He has always known exactly the truth, and when he was ready, he could tell me with great clarity and detail! There will be more of these inner child revelations in these articles. I am exploring my next book with them, and in 2011 will publish the book about this whole experience!
Thank you so much for your powerful words!
Blessings,
Dan
Patricia - Spiritual Journey Of A Lightworker says
I just don’t understand the jealousy and meaness that allows some people to want to smash someone else’s dreams. How sad for little Danny to carry that for all of those years. I wonder where your grandmother’s anger came from?
Dan L Hays says
Patricia, I honestly don’t know – and will never know for sure – what fueled this interaction by my Grandmother. It is conspicuous to me that she asked me this question almost the moment I walked in her house. I have theorized that my Dad – frustrated writer – mentioned something about my dream to her. They were welded at the hip, so she may have been acting out some secret wish of his. It has been really sad to see that Little Danny carried that pain secretly for 47 years! The hope and joy is that as it was revealed, it could begin to be healed! 🙂
Fondly,
Dan
Lisa Bogle says
This reminds me of my grandmother (who was a second parent to me). She frequently had that “I won” smile…especially when I was frustrated about something. I don’t remember her specifically ridiculing my writing , but she ridiculed just about everything else. The angrier (or more frustrated) I got, the more she would laugh. And I don’t remember EVER feeling safe sharing my writing with anyone in my family. She did read my journal and throw things written there back in my face, “How dare you write such a thing?” (not ridicule precisely, but anger that I would dare be truthful in a private journal.) There was also the privacy problem…there were no boundaries. There was no “safe place” for me to write. (I just remembered that right now, so maybe there’s something to this…) 😀 I was ridiculed a lot as a child (both at home and at school) and my mother told me that I brought the school ridicule on myself, so fear of ridicule is very big for me. Maybe I’ll try some inner child exercises myself. Remembering these things is one thing, getting past them is a whole different thing. My inner child is pretty terrified. And she certainly doesn’t feel safe with me. It would be a big step to get there!
Thanks for this post. Very helpful.
Dan L Hays says
Amazing, Lisa! Thanks for sharing your experiences with me. Was it that generation or something? Your grandmother sounds so similar to mine! Ridicule the order of the day. Laughing at my pain! I can’t believe yours read your private journal – that’s just a horrible sense of violation, and safety goes away forever. “No safe place for me to write” – I can completely understand. Your private writing was subject to all that scrutiny and humiliation!
Ridiculed a lot – how painful! If you were being ridiculed at home, it would make it easier to fall into it at school as well – ridicule was normal! How awful!
As you can see – for me the inner child exercises have been super helpful. And yes, they have helped me get past the old abuses! Good luck if you give them a try. If you take a look at Patricia Singleton’s blog, she has some amazing inner child work in there as well!
I do understand the terror Lisa, and how your inner child doesn’t feel safe with you – it was that experience for me that forced me to give these things a try, to see if I could get Little Danny to release being a Fear Child.
Warmly,
Dan