The timer on my phone is set to 4 minutes. “OK everybody, go!” A group of folks start scribbling in old school notebooks. We are writing something pretty simple. In fact, I had asked, “What is something terrific that happened this week? People actually smile as they write. This might not be what they expected when they joined a cancer support group called “Write For Your Life”. It wasn’t what I expected either. As they hit the three minute mark, I remember my first experience with therapeutic writing. I sat down at a Starbucks, put a notebook on one of their tiny round tables and was pressing so hard with my pen through the paper that I was sure I was engraving my thoughts on the unsuspecting wooden surface. It seems the wooden laminate wasn’t ready for how angry I was at being sick. I had written things like “Why did I get cancer? What am I going to do now? How am I going to pay my bills after surgery?” That was a pretty tough day. I certainly didn’t leave the coffee shop with any easy answers, but I did feel a bit better. It turns out, that wasn’t a coincidence. My friend Eugene Nam explained to me that Therapeutic Writing has benefits that would make any drug company jealous. Writing and journaling when you’re sick has been proven to (believe it or not) lower blood pressure, alleviate depression, reduce stress-and get this-reduce the length of hospital stays.
I say “Two Minutes” to the group. They write a bit faster. I noticed something else that happens as well. When we write in a group we give people the option of sharing what they have come up with. People tell bits of their story and we all learn from everyone’s experience. At times we have all doubled over in laughter when someone talks about something ridiculous that happened or listen intently while a member shares a particularly tough challenge.
My timer rolls past one minute. People scribble even faster, trying to put the finishing touches on their short piece. “Remember, it’s OK if it’s not perfect, it’s your story and however you tell it, is just fine.”
My phone chimes.
“Ok Everybody, times up. Does anyone want to read their piece?”
I have no idea what’s going to happen next.
Here’s some fancy research on how great Therapeutic Writing is…
Writing about traumatic, stressful or emotional events has been found to result in improvements in both physical and psychological health, in non-clinical and clinical populations. (Pennebaker & Beall, 1986)
In clinical populations, a meta-analysis (Frisina et al, 2004) of nine expressive writing studies found a significant benefit for health.
Expressive writing about one’s breast cancer, breast cancer trauma and facts related to breast cancer, significantly improved and physical and psychological health, such as the quality-of-life (Craft, Davis, & Paulson, 2012; Henry et al. 2010)
Testicular cancer survivor participants assigned to the positive expressive writing showed significant improvements in physical and psychological health (Pauley, Morman, & Floyd, 2011)
I am a huge fan of Mr. John Cleese. Yes, I was one of those irritating teenagers who could repeat the Argument Sketch (A brilliant Monty Python bit) ad nasuem.
I love Cleese’s work. Its funny, absurd and wickedly smart. A few years ago he did a talk on creativity. He talked about what creative people have to do to have an effective process. The “How” of creativity if you will. Most people don’t really believe that the HOW of creativity exists. They think that we (those who create) just blunder about until some great (or not great) idea falls from the firmament and then we write it, sculpt it, draw it, or deliver it in whatever discipline we choose. Cleese doesn’t agree with that. He feels we need SPACE to create. Here’s the video here…
He believes (as does another hero of mine, some unkown named “Stephen King”) that inspiration does show up but that it will show up much more often if we are present, ready and waiting for it. We have to keep our appointment with creativity in order for things to happen. Like a lot of appointments though, sometimes we have to wait for the other party to show up. Sometimes we have to twiddle our thumbs and wait.
I honestly think that most people can’t handle the uncertainty of not knowing what will happen next. Sometimes when we are making something we have to sit there for long periods of time waiting for something to happen. OK maybe its not that long, but it FEELS like a long time.
I have done some creative work in my time. A couple of books, a bunch of live comedy, a CD with a very good friend of mine, and in the process of ALL of them there was some time spent just wondering what the heck to do next, but if we stick with it and stay in that uncomfortable space for a while, an idea will magically bubble up from somewhere. Call it the collective unconscious, call it the depths of your psyche, call it Harold, but whatever you call it, something, some idea or inspiration will arrive.
Keith Richards, another remarkable artist who I have a tremendous amount of respect for was asked how he writes. He said “You don’t really write, you transmit.” When we are writing, improvising or whatever, we sometimes lose yourself in the process and feel a kind of beautiful “Lift Off”. The thing we are working on creates itself in an almost effortless fashion. That is a wonderful feeling, but we have to force ourselves to show up and do our art in order for that to happen. So what’s the big deal here? I think that as creative folks we have to embrace what most people do not. We have to come to terms with not knowing how its going to turn out. We have to hang out in the “uncomfortableness” of being unfinished and trust that somewhere out there or somewhere in here, there is an answer and it will arrive.
It was my absolute honour to present A Spoonful of Laughter to the L’Chaim Cancer Support Group for Jewish Women last night. From the moment I walked in people were telling me jokes. “Oh, You’re the comedian? I’ve got a joke for you! A postman and a raccoon were walking down the street and…” And so it went. I was in stitches.
Taking a group of people who have had very little to no experience doing Improv through a workshop can be an adventure but these ladies went for it with incredible trust and enthusiasm. We talked about the medical benefits of laughter and how laughter can be such a powerful and positive tool for healing in our lives. As always at about the 20 minute mark the energy in the room shifts in a palpable way. We transformed from a bunch of individuals concerned about how we look in front of others to a unified group that is ready to share and take risks. Frankly, I love it. I’ve seen this happen again and again with groups of 15 to crowds of well over 100. When that happens it sets the stage for very good things to happen. We could see bits of this last night when by the end of our evening people were sharing their stories about the cancer journey, laughing at each other’s jokes and generally having a blast. Who knew a cancer support group could be such a good time?
Have you ever had a bunch of ideas for a project and stood at the precipice only to stop dead in your tracks? Sure you have! Sometimes it feels as if we’re teetering on a high diving board before we begin something. We’ve done our preparation, we have our materials, we have told ourselves we HAVE to do this thing and we are ready to go. So we stand with our toes over the edge of our creative project staring down into the abyss at what looks like cold water below us. (Holy Metaphor Batman!) Worse yet, that water might have rocks underneath it! We might be killed when we jump off this cliff, and we’re only wearing a small bathing suit that covers the bare minimum of our intimate creative bits! (Ok, now my metaphor has lost its mind).
If you make stuff on a regular basis (and by stuff, I mean media or art of any kind) you have probably faced this many times. Writers refer to this as fear of the blank page, actors and improvisers get stymied by stage fright. Painters get, well I don’t know what painters get, but I’m sure they get something.
Recently I was creating a workshop and I had a ton of ideas on what I wanted to say and how it was going to happen, but I couldn’t get myself to begin. I had elements all picked out, I knew what my main message was but I couldn’t get myself to start. Why? I realized that I was terrified that it was going to suck!
I know that’s incredibly obvious but I think that’s what it comes down to for many of us. We might ask ourselves “Gosh, what if it’s terrible? What if we’re not as good as we think we are? What if this one piece of work reveals to the world that we have no place even pretending to be a creative person?”
So, we often find reasons to not begin. Common reasons include…
1: Hey, I’m a bit hungry and nobody else is going to eat that pork chop.
2: I should really re-watch season 2 of Game Of Thrones. (perhaps while eating a pork chop) 3: I haven’t dusted my light bulbs in a while and the neighbors are starting to talk.
We would rather do ANYTHING but start the creative process because it feels risky and vulnerable.
However, a person far wiser than me once said “The Best Way Out is Through”. My rough interpretation of that would be Barf it Out. Yep. Hike up your pants, square your jaw, look fear in the eye and just start.
Bring whatever it is to life in its ugly first draft stage. Let it be terrible. Make the worst first attempt that anyone has ever made. Why? Because then it will exist. Once you have that first try, then (Halleluiah!) you have something to work with. The best part is, the work is usually pretty darn good!
So barf it out in all its glory! Whether it’s a talk or a book or a blog or a drawing or a recipe for brussel sprouts. Once it exists you can congratulate yourself for having something, and then the rest of the process can start. In my own example of the talk for Waterloo, it actually went really well. The participants loved it and we had a blast.
Have you ever “barfed out a project” and actually found out it was better than you thought?
Got a problem? Got a situation? Need to figure something out? I don’t have the answer, but you do!
What the heck am I talking about? Well, I believe in the power of collaboration, I believe that a group of people thinking about the same issue or facing the same challenge are infinitely more powerful than one person trying to hammer out a solution. It seems to me that as individuals we often don’t have the entire solution to a problem. We might have a piece of it that we are pretty proud of, but the whole thing? That’s pretty rare. However, our piece of the puzzle might be pretty significant, and somebody across the room might have a great piece of the puzzle as well. Heck, somebody might have even defined the question in an interesting way that takes the discussion in an entirely new direction. When people come together and commit to “The Wisdom in The Room” process very good things happen. This has been explored with Cancer Patients, Health Care Professionals and Social Media Experts. Its fun, stimulating, challenging and a ton of fun.
Recently I had the honour of exploring The Wisdom In the Room with a group of talented people for The Ontario Hospital Association. It was an absolute blast. We weren’t messing around either. We were doing hard core work on how to increase patient engagement through social media. After about 15 minutes ideas were flying. People were sharing their strategies on how to improve the experience of patients across the province. I am struck by the idea that many times we actually have the resources we need to do what we want to do. We just have to be brave enough and generous enough to share our ideas with a like minded group of people and then the magic happens.
The timer on my phone is set to 4 minutes. “OK everybody, go!” A group of folks start scribbling in old school notebooks. We are writing something pretty simple. In fact, I had asked, “What is something terrific that happened this week? People actually smile as they write. This might not be what they expected when they joined a cancer support group called “Write For Your Life”. It wasn’t what I expected either. As they hit the three minute mark, I remember my first experience with therapeutic writing. I sat down at a Starbucks, put a notebook on one of their tiny round tables and was pressing so hard with my pen through the paper that I was sure I was engraving my thoughts on the unsuspecting wooden surface. It seems the wooden laminate wasn’t ready for how angry I was at being sick. I had written things like “Why did I get cancer? What am I going to do now? How am I going to pay my bills after surgery?” That was a pretty tough day. I certainly didn’t leave the coffee shop with any easy answers, but I did feel a bit better. It turns out, that wasn’t a coincidence. My friend Eugene Nam explained to me that Therapeutic Writing has benefits that would make any drug company jealous. Writing and journaling when you’re sick has been proven to (believe it or not) lower blood pressure, alleviate depression, reduce stress-and get this-reduce the length of hospital stays.
