Turning Towards Memory as a Source of Healing
An unexpected discovery
Hello Readers!
This week’s reflection for all subscribers was born out of the practices in The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Here at the Attentive Life we’ve been walking through a chapter together once a month, and I include an exercise from the book for all of us to try.1
I was hesitant to move so slowly through the book because it’s intended to be a twelve-week program working towards creative recovery, not a monthly experience. But taking my time and slowing down the process has been surprisingly healing for me.
A slow, thoughtful engagement with the material has helped me be attentive to the needs of the creative part of me that has largely pushed aside since 2020. Many of the book’s exercises ask the reader to engage with memory, and I have decades’ worth of memories related to the creative part of me that I’ve never observed before.
This gradual review of my creative endeavors has opened up an entirely new country in the world that is my inner being. That’s not to say that I haven’t been creative or pursued my work over the past few decades—I have—it’s to say that there are core memories related to deep wounds in this area of my life that I’ve never turned towards before.
As I’ve moved towards healing in other important areas of my life, I’ve spent an exceptional amount of energy on two things: healing from past trauma and somatic practices for my body (some might say these are one and the same).
I’ve focused on loving my outer self with prayer walks, yoga, supplements, and various somatic therapies. My body feels loved—I know this because she is sleeping again. She wants to run again. She reveals her needs with tiny messages I’ve learned to attune and attend to.
However, there’s an entire inner landscape that I haven’t listened to or loved generously in the way that I’ve listened to and loved my body. When I think of this inner landscape—she is like Ireland. She is mysterious and mist-covered and built of memory stacked on memory. She is ancient and spiritual. She does not suffer fools. She is emerald. She is mermaid. She is poetry.
And she is willing to let me explore her hills and valleys as I engage with memory in a way I haven’t previously. I’ve used the practices in The Artist’s Way to nudge memory in helpful ways, but once that work is done, I’ve been intentionally turning towards memories when they return to me unbidden.
In the car, when I wash dishes, when I create, or lie down to sleep, I turn towards any memory that seeks to join me. When memories return to me without prompting, I’m not as quick to dismiss them as random arrivals unrelated to the life I’m currently living. Even the most innocuous memories that don’t carry a huge emotional charge have held surprising meaning for me. Sometimes these are just as important as the ones that shout for attention.
Recently, I was downstairs tidying up when guitar chords floated down to greet me. When my daughter’s clear, pure voice broke through the chords, the sound shook a core memory loose. I remembered the time I auditioned for a part in the Sound of Music musical in grade school, and the part went to another girl in my class. Oh, how I wanted to sing a solo. Oh, how it stung that I wasn’t chosen. Instead, I sang in a trio while my classmate danced and sang her way across the stage.
It's a small memory that doesn’t hurt as an adult, but it stung so badly when I was a kid. And I never grieved it. I never turned towards the loss and said, “This hurt and this mattered to me.” So, I get to turn inward and say it now. I get to turn to my creative ten-year-old self who loved to dance and sing and say, “I see you. I see the rejection that wounded your creativity. Let’s honor it together and move towards healing.”
This turning towards rising memories has been immensely helpful as I’ve moved in the direction of healing past wounds. I’m conscious of no longer dismissing what rises to the surface as irrelevant, and instead listening for the deeper message it wants to share with me.
I’ve practiced turning towards all kinds of memories for a few years now, but The Artist’s Way has helped me explore creative/artistic memories that have been buried for decades. It’s given me hope for artistic recovery and healing of the wounds that have kept me from growth in this part of my life.
A Reflective Practice
Consider exploring the landscape of your inner being through memory.
The next time a memory rises to the surface, instead of dismissing it, consider what it might have to reveal to you or teach you.
Ask God to show you what this memory might wants to say, and turn towards it with loving presence.
Consider journaling the memory, your prayerful response, and what you discover.
The focus of the book is on creative recovery for blocked artists, but I truly believe it could be helpful for people who don’t identify as artists, but who want to explore creativity, or those who want to apply the rich material to another area of life.