The blank page, once a welcome canvas for the multitude of your thoughts, feels oppressive now. The swift, sweet caress of inspiration used to guide your pen has been replaced by the heavy shroud of writer’s block. This isn’t merely a creative lull; it’s a vast, yawning pit born out of personal tragedy. How do you find the courage to pick up the pieces of a shattered life, much less the scattered remains of what you once knew as your passion for writing?
This blog is a love letter to fellow writers who have endured personal loss and found it challenging to find the will to write thereafter. For those enduring the echoes of personal loss, it offers a balm to motivate you to write once more. Please allow this narrative to reframe your tragedy from an anchor, weighted to hold you down in the depths of your loss, into a compass, pointing you toward the limitless skies of creativity.
Crushed spirits and shattered hearts often bring down the sails of our creative sheets. This new story begins not with a traditional call to arms but a silent struggle against the current as you grapple with the void that personal tragedy has introduced to your life.
OVERCOMING
Personal tragedy hit me like an emotional hurricane, devastating everything in its path. It happened suddenly, the terrible loss of my mother, on the very day of my disabled son’s birthday. I delve into how this deep-seated pain has profoundly impacted the motivations behind my writing habits.
Grief is a multifaceted antagonist. It weighs heavily on our ability to concentrate, hamstrings our executive functions, and imbues the most everyday rote tasks with disproportionate difficulty. For writers like us, who often pull inspiration from the vast canvas of their experiences, personal tragedy can dry up that well, leaving us parched for ideas and the will to express them. Or does it?
While it’s easy to agree that loss prevents a typically easy will to ride the tides of creative writing, the thirst for the “what” doesn’t have to be a tumultuous tempest. Turning your tragedy into a thing of beauty, a conduit to help others, and a coping mechanism doesn’t have to equal exploitation or something discouraging.
What are the stepping stones out of this seemingly inescapable swamp? Like any resolve, we must start with the smallest step, which can be almost invisible in its movement. A spark of focus on small, achievable goals and seeking solace in a supportive community are just the beginnings.
INSPIRATION
Journaling
Engaging in daily journaling serves as a vessel for the storm within. It doesn’t require your writer-self’s eloquence or narrative structure but merely a mirror to the whirlpool of emotions you experience. A simple collection of words that need not make sense to anyone, but you can unleash a fighting flood of motivation.
Seeking Support
Surrounding yourself with individuals who understand the nature of your struggle is pivotal. Sharing your burden authentically can bring about the support you so desperately need. Additionally, receiving support from people from various walks of life and stages of grief allows you to gain new perspectives, potentially reigniting the fires of creativity once more.
Setting Small Goals
There is no such thing as too small: when you experience that first flicker of willingness to write, do it. Perhaps it’s jotting down a few lines, editing a past piece, or simply reading. These small goals gradually coax back the writing fire you knew intrinsically was extinguished forever in the beginning throes of your grief.
TURNING PAIN INTO POWER – EXPERIENCE TO FUEL
The relationship between tragedy and writing is symbiotic; the former can often be the ink well from which the latter draws its most poignant visions.
Your pain can sculpt narratives that are raw, honest, and undeniable. There is a certain liberation in laying bare your emotions and infusing authenticity into your works, which resonates deeply with your readers.
Let’s be honest: we write to connect. We write to create a shared narrative, combatting a lonely human condition with one that will outlive you in its fusion with the consciousnesses of others.
In sharing these experiences, a transference of courage occurs. Sharing your story offers solace and a path for those facing parallel paths of despair and disillusionment – “those” including your own tortured soul.
Writing is a bridge, and when others walk the steady boards of your narrative, they feel less alone – YOU feel less alone. Your words become their companions and confidants on a shared, arduous, yet potentially rejuvenating path to renewal.
IGNITION
Finally, as you endure the harsh winds of personal loss, remember that the mere fact you are reading this—despite life’s attempts to silence your voice—is a testament to your resilience. The conclusion is not one of finality but a comma, an ellipsis, an open book beckoning to the unwritten pages you owe yourself.
Seize hold of that stubborn flame within you, for it refuses to be snuffed out by hardship. Persistence is not just an act of defiance against despair; it is also an act of self-love, a shouting from the mast that your story, in all its tangling mass of joy and sorrow, is worth telling.
To the writers who have weathered storms, who have felt the stinging salt of loss costumed as tears running relentlessly down cheeks, the time for your narrative to expand is when you’re ready – and allow this narrative to help you in that first barely perceptible movement. Your experiences, your truths, and your words are the ink that binds your story with the stories of countless others.
Yes, writing after tragedy is indescribably tough, but it also holds the promise of a narrative rich in depth, offering a perspective only a reconciled heart can provide. Follow this chart with your own compass of hope, and you will rediscover not only the ability to write but also the raw, unyielding power within you to craft a testament to the human spirit.
Solyndria Creative 