Words are precious. When all is said and done, the most lasting legacy we leave each other are the stories of our lives that convey the essence of who we are. In the final stages and ages of life, a simple practice of journal writing can ease our passage.

The impulse to write arises in times of transition because words create order out of chaos: we use story to make sense of life experience.

In the past thirty years, I have spoken to thousands of people about the benefits of writing, and people have said repeatedly, “I had to write or die … had to write or I’d explode … I knew writing would save my life …”

People know intuitively what Texas professor and psychologist Dr. James Pennebaker has spent his life researching: journal writing (1) supports immune system function, (2) raises the T-cell levels, (3) lowers blood pressure, and (4) eases anxiety. These are valuable physical benefits for both patients and caregivers.

Journal writing is like practicing scales on a piano; if we keep doing it, we develop a foundational proficiency and eventually – we make music; if we keep going back to the blank page and write – eventually we make story.

Journal writing is creative expression: we will be as disciplined – or not –  about writing as we are about other things; we will be as artistic, expressive, restrained, shy, courageous about writing as we are in other areas of our lives.

Journal writing is an act of self-witnessing: we bear witness to the lives we are leading, the relationships we have, the challenges and blessings that come to us, and the times we live in.

A journal tends to record a combination of external events and experiences and our internal reactions to them. We can focus on the past, the present, the future.

What keeps us writing is our ability to follow the energy, to go where the story leads. I have only one rule: Date the top of the page and drop all the other rules.

Many people write in starts and stops. There really is no English Teacher in the sky looking down disapprovingly. To re-interest yourself in your own story try a little exercise called Flow Writing.

Set a kitchen timer for five minutes. Open to a blank page or screen, close your eyes, take a deep breath. When you’ve relaxed, open your eyes and whatever your gaze settles on, use that image as a beginning and write until the timer rings.

“Sun slanting through the window shades makes stripes on the floor like lines on paper. I am sitting in bed with my notebook open and as I stare at these lines, I wonder how many pages are left in me, wonder which sentence is my last. I have cancer, and it will have the last word …”

“Lady in a red dress sits across in the coffee shop and I wonder what she’s doing here. The rest of us, people I identify as family or nurses are wearing muted shades of grey, black, taupe – not this woman. Why aren’t I wearing that blue and yellow outfit Harry loves me in? I have dressed to please him for forty-two years, why not now? …”

The purpose of flow writing is to tap the stream of consciousness that is going on anyway and discover nuggets of insight. Five minutes at a time, the practice of writing eases back into our lives. And when we are writing with the lessened energies of illness, or with only short breaks in care giving, flow writing is a tremendous ally.

At Enso House, the Buddhist hospice in my neighbourhood, there are notebooks and pens in every room. The invitation to write is available whenever anyone has a moment of reflection. …

Pain and pain management, shifts in the body, and corresponding shifts in mind and spirit, challenge us to make story. Two writing techniques can offer more insights:

(1) We can write dialogues by dividing our thought process into two voices: one questions, the other answers …

(2) We can write about ourselves in the third person, as a character in our own story. …

In the writing that flows out of us in the final months and weeks of life, and the writing that flows from our open hearts as care-givers, there is a quality of legacy.

Priorities shift: our values are clearer; we focus on completing relationships; we sort through final questions; and, we leave behind a basket of words.

This is an act of faith: that if we have written, someone will read: read with compassion, curiosity, seeing through our foibles to the heart of life’s journey.

Quotations about Writing

I asked the writing: “Where will you take me today?”

And the reply came back: “Somewhere you have never been before.” (Anonymous)


Once we venture beyond the conditioned mind (with its attachments and cravings, its concerns and anxieties, its opinions and judgements), we can start to penetrate the unconditioned realm of spacious calm where the best of our writing lies waiting. Waiting for our attention. Waiting for its articulation. Waiting …


The words that enliven the soul are more precious than jewels.

(Hazat Inayat Khan)


The writer writes from where the writer is.


Writing, like any other form of creativity, is where the clock doesn’t mark the time spent there.


A bird does not sing because it has an answer – it sings because it has a song. (Chinese proverb)


How do we make full sense of our lives unless we write about them?


Give sorrow words. (Shakespeare)


Writing is an adventure ……


Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. (William Wordsworth)


All writing is a form of prayer. (Keats)


Love and death are the greatest gifts given to us. Mostly they are passed and unopened. (Rilke)


Writing takes me to a place where I have never been before, to an unknown destination … beyond fear, beyond all division …


Keep writing, and keep healing.


Source: Based on an article entitled “When All Is Said and Done: Journal Writing at the End of Life” by Christina Baldwin, taken from Buddhist Reflections on Death, Dying and Bereavement, compiled and edited by Michael Lewin, published by The Buddhist Hospice Trust.

https://buddhisthospice.org.uk/books/

This is a collection, in book form, of short articles from a range of dharma-practitioners, 21 in all, who “share their thoughts and feelings with us on the issues of death and dying”. It is aimed at anyone who is touched by these issues.

This is not an academic or dogmatic text written only for Buddhists. The universal themes and varied perspectives make this accessible to anyone.

It is inspirational, meditative, practical, personal, and even humorous.

Written from each contributor’s own perspective and personal experience, it is a source of strength and comfort which should reach right to the heart of anyone reading it and be a source of inspiration to anyone touched by death, regardless of their spiritual beliefs.

Note: For further information regarding the work of Christina Baldwin, visit her website, www.peerspirit.com


Listen, Contemplate, Meditate

Words are precious. When all is said and done, the most lasting legacy we leave each other are the stories of our lives that convey the essence of who we are. In the final stages and ages of life, a simple practice of journal writing can ease our passage. 

The impulse to write arises in times of transition because words create order out of chaos: we use story to make sense of life experience. 

(Christina Baldwin, “When All Is Said and Done: Journal Writing at the End of Life” taken from Buddhist Reflections on Death, Dying and Bereavement)

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