When I am writing something, the forward in my book, a new poem, this article, sometimes I get stuck. If I’ve reached a point where my fingers hover over my keyboard and sort of wiggle in mid-air with no real idea where to land, I open a new document and start to free write.
Free writing means I simply type and do not stop. If I hit a wall, I write something like “damn I hit a wall what shall I write about now I had a carrot yesterday the color orange is funny what hell is Crazy Legs up to out there…” or just one word over and over. The point is to keep writing, keep focused, don’t edit.
Hidden away among those carrots and cats, I usually find something real, however small, since my brain did not have time to block it. It may be a creative idea to expand on, the break in the dam that sends the water roaring down.
Or it may be truly enlightening.
Alone with my thoughts, I can write nonsensical ramblings that only I will see. But there also may be the inadvertent slips of sometimes brutal insight.
Then I get to my therapist’s office.
It’s a quirk for me that I want to sound smart and well-spoken with the current keeper of the “I can send you to a 72 hour hold,” so I choose my words carefully. I’m so super smart! You don’t know how many thoughtful things I can say with my face-hole! So a lot of time is wasted on long pauses while I try to find exactly the right word, the cleverest turn of phrase. (I also feel weird if I don’t make small talk when I get there, but that’s just my usual neurosis.)
Anyway, I told her that I wanted to try an experiment. In order to get to the heart of the matter I was going to free write verbally, without a “watcher” in my head, an inner critic, any sort of a barrier to raw truth.
It goes like this, start talking, that’s it. Just open your mouth and say things with your lips. Do not edit for grammar or vocabulary or syntax, just talk. You will almost certainly hit on something. And when you do, stand up and shout “Eureka!” (totally don’t do this.) When you hit on something, stop and look at it.
The process of healing is sifting through the dirt until you find gold. You will find a lot of “fool’s gold” in the process, but if you can get through that dirt, if you can sift out the bugs and rocks, you can hold a nugget of gold in your hand and know you’ve accomplished something.
Therapy is old timey gold prospecting, apparently. I shouldn’t watch documentaries before I write these.
Anyway, I encourage you to try it, both written and verbal. It cuts through the long pauses where we sometimes obsess about how to present ourselves in the best light. You don’t have to impress them. You’re in therapy, not on a date.
Also, you don’t have to make small talk. “Hi how are you?” will generally suffice. I’m still working on that one myself.