This time last week, I was wending my way to Windermere, to a writing workshop on creating inclusive liturgies. It was one of the most affirming and fulfilling workshops I have ever been a part of. It was led by Jo Clifford (who writes about our experiences here). Jo is right. Often, in the past, I’ve had my creativity, be it poetry, prose, or music, laughed at.
So I was very apprehensive about sharing anything at all. So much so, that I wrote my first piece in cipher, so that it couldn’t be read, other than by me. But this was a safe space. It was a place where vulnerability could be held by others: others were sharing. So I took a chance, and let go. The response I got back lifted me more than many experiences I have had in the past year, possibly ever. I am so grateful to the people with whom I shared that weekend.
Now, I am starting to believe I can write. Not just in cipher, for myself, but for others to read, too. I feel more able to share vulnerability. Given what has happened to me in the past 18 months, this is precious. It is healing. It is release. I have so much that I want to release, to write, to share. I feel maybe that I could go on writing prayer forever.
Thank you, God, for writing. For prayer. For others to hold us in You.