The Synergy Game - A Journey From Death to Life

Chapter 10 - From Pen to Flames: Writing and Burning for Emotional Liberation

This is my book The Synergy Game. I am serialising it here a chapter a week. Each chapter will be available for everyone to read because, after all, that’s why I’ve written it, to help others, to share what has helped me to rebuild my life.

Chapter 10 - From Pen to Flames: Writing and Burning for Emotional Liberation

"Writing is an act of burning, a ritual of renewal." - Unknown

Writing. Reading. Burning. Three small things, when all put together are powerful. My Reiki teacher taught me this years ago, and although at first it seemed dramatic, it works. It's simple. You take a notebook or a few sheets of paper, not a fancy notebook because you will destroy what you write.

First, think of a situation that is upsetting you, something you just can’t let go of or get past. Maybe it's something relatively minor like your sister was short with you or forgot your birthday, or maybe it's something major, like the pain you are feeling from a betrayal or an abandonment or loss. It doesn't matter; whatever it is, start writing about it. Don't think about what you are writing, just write.

Let all the emotions pour out: the pain, the despair, the anger, the disappointment, and whatever else comes up. What you will find as you write is that emotions come up that you were not expecting. To get the most value from this exercise you need to just let the words flow without judgement.

I guarantee you will be surprised at how much comes up and how deep you can allow yourself to go.

One of the first times I did it was trying to process the hurt I felt from my mother cutting off contact with me after I left the faith I was a part of for most of my life.

That I'd left because of the same reason (child abuse) that had put my father in prison years earlier, which my mother knew about, had left me feeling this pain and bewilderment.

Being a mother myself, I couldn't fathom how she could not want to talk to me. I could imagine nothing either of my daughters could do that would make me want to not be in their lives.

It's amazing how the universe knows just what you need when you need it.

One day, my husband and daughter were going out to a local vide grenier (flea market) and asked if I wanted to go with them. I said no, but as soon as they left, I had this overwhelming feeling I wanted to go after all and that I was missing out by not going.

I didn't want to call them and ask them to come back for me, so I thought I'd leave it up to the universe. I asked that if it were right for me, they would come back anyway. As the minutes ticked by and they didn't come back, I started to get upset wondering why the universe wasn't working things out for me. Then, out of nowhere I remembered about the burn and release I'd been told about.

I knew they'd be out for a few hours, so I took the opportunity. I started to write, and as I started to write, I cried. At the end of this chapter are prompts you can use, like the ones I used.

I wrote about how abandoned I felt, asking how she could choose to listen to man-made rules in her organisation over her daughter.

I wrote about how hurt I was that she hadn't protected me when I was a child. And then, out of nowhere, this huge howl erupted from me, and I started sobbing and screaming and releasing a pain so deep I didn't even know pain could go that low.

It was like it came from the utter depths of my soul. If you can imagine crying so hard you can't even breathe, you’ll know what I mean. I cried the hardest I had ever cried.

It went on for a while, and in between, I was writing. I was shocking myself with what I was writing; I didn't realise how angry I was. I wrote terrible things, things I didn't know I could think, let alone write.

And then, like turning off a tap that had been gushing full speed, it stopped, and I felt a level of relief and peace I'd never felt before in my life. Like a huge weight I'd been carrying on my own for years had been lifted off my back.

I sat on the floor in my hallway and just was. I didn't think, I just sat rather stunned, and I let myself enjoy the feeling. It felt like something big had happened.

The second part is after you've taken a break and processed what has come up with the writing, you read it out loud.

After doing that, you burn it.

You can use visualisation here, too, especially as you watch it burning. You can imagine that all the anger, hurt and pain that you've released is floating away from you and that it is being transmuted from negative to positive. Whatever works for you, and this is just an extra, unnecessary for the process.

I have a fire basket outside, so as it was summer, I thought it was a good way to burn my pages safely. I took them outside, along with a few remaining things that my mother had given me. I felt as if I had to symbolically get rid of all the reminders.

I stood by that fire with my voice cracking and tears running down my face, reading what I had written and, for the first time, seeing the depth of my pain.

I ripped the paper into smaller bits and fed them to the flames. I watched it all burn down to ashes. The paper that had my pain, a scarf she had given me and a pair of earrings.

As I stood there, I realised why I wasn't meant to go to the vide grenier that morning. Why events had conspired to give me the house to myself, something that rarely happened.

I would never have cried and howled and screamed like I did if my family had been there. I may have done the burn and release, but it would not have been on this deep level, maybe just some quiet tears.

I felt as if I'd been gifted this space and time to add another layer to my healing.

It taught me a lesson, though, not to keep emotions in that need to come out.

In the following years, if I needed to release, cry, vent or shout, I would go for a drive in my car. When driving you are alone and safe to make whatever sounds you need to.

I must mention two things, though. One is to be careful of doing it in busier traffic; you get funny looks! And the other point is more serious. Sometimes, it's safer to pull over to the side of the road to let go. The emotions that come up can be powerful and distracting.

In the year following the breakup of my marriage, I used this method a few times.

Once, I went to the river and burned what I’d written and watched the ashes float away. That seemed very symbolic.

Another occasion that stands out was towards the end of the year after we’d been separated for just over fourteen months. I was in a place where I wanted to start forgiving, but I knew I needed to write it out. I was finally ready to do so; I could feel it. I wrote pages and pages, pouring out all my sadness and pain, how much I missed him and our beautiful life, and then releasing him, telling him I was ready to forgive and let him go.

The night I did this was the full moon, and just over a week later was New Year’s Eve, and as this was almost the end of the worst year of my life, I decided that I would read it out loud every night until New Year’s Eve and then I would burn it.

As I read it each night, I got closer and closer to a place of forgiveness, or rather a start on the road to forgiveness. At first, I cried all the way through, but as the week progressed, an amazing thing happened. I started finally to think of happy memories and times we’d had together. To remember how much love we had between us and how grateful I was to have had that in my life for so long.

I had a goal of sending him a text on NYE to wish him well. This seemed like it would be a milestone for me. I knew, though, that it had to be genuine. We weren’t in regular communication, but I wanted to be at peace.

To send the message, I wanted to feel in my heart that I meant it and that I did wish him peace and happiness for the next year. When I first wrote those pages, I didn’t know if I would be at a place on NYE where I could honestly wish him well.

As the week progressed, though, I started to feel differently. It was as if it was all being released, and all that was left were memories of the pain but actually feeling it, had seemed to drift away.

When the last day of the year came, I knew in my heart that I would be able to send him that text, and that was such a huge moment. The realisation that I could forgive him and let go, to move on with my life.

I wanted to start the new year not as a survivor but as someone who was living again and creating a life. I wanted to start again in a big way. Unlike the previous new year, when I was so frightened of the coming year and what it would bring, this year I was excited for it to start, for my plans and the things I wanted to do.

As I burned those pages on the last night of that sad and pain-filled year, I was saying goodbye to the life I had lived and known and the dreams we had together. But now I had new dreams, and they were my own, and that felt so good.

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Here are writing prompts and questions that can help you get started on this:

1.     What specific actions or behaviours have hurt me the most?

2.     How has this hurt affected my emotions, thoughts, and daily life?

3.     I'm angry that...

4.     I hate that you...

5.     I'm hurt that...

6.     I feel disappointed because...

7.     I am afraid that...

8.     It makes me sad that...

9.     I am scared because...

10.  I hate feeling...

Use the above prompts to get you started on your writing. Remember it's for you. Don't think about spelling, grammar or what you say. Just write and let it all out.

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Previous Chapter - Small Wins, Big Celebrations: Embracing Every Step of Progress

Next Chapter - Release to Heal: The Essential Power of Crying, Screaming, and Shouting

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