“The Truth about stories is, that’s all we are.”

Thomas King

Storytelling is a human universal, done by every culture and every society ever known. Writing, however, is not. Though widespread today, we had to learn to write. There are wonderful historical works about how writing changes a society. 

Writing changes us in many ways for writing does not merely express what’s already inside us. Rather it generates a kind of internal work that leads us to reflect, to turn things over, to hone in, and sometimes to reorient. In doing so, it can exert a kind of magic. 

Susan Scott and Lana Cullis have co-written a book with their colleague, Sharon S. Hines about the kind of writing that leads us to reflect on our deepest concerns – things like family, hope, faith, loss, tradition, sacredness and how to make meaning from life’s most poignant or most searing moments. Their book, The Spiritual Life Writing Workbook, is a kind invitation to consider diving deeper into your own life. 

These are two wise and thoughtful people so I took the opportunity to interview them. Whether you actually decide to write or not, I think you’ll find their reflections below rich and insightful. 

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What is spiritual life writing?

Lana shares “they’re stories of great meaning. Faith, death, lineage…the term is spacious and will vary by person.” Susan adds that they want to “enlarge the canon,” meaning that the term should be expansive enough to understand the spirituality in sex, work, gardening or grieving. 

In their book, they cite works like Unorthodox by Deborah Feldman or Educated by Tara Westover as examples. The latter is not explicitly spiritual or religious but it is very much life work and they make clear that this kind of life work belongs in the genre. 

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What does the writing offer?

Lana highlighted how transitory speech is. In contrast, writing leaves a kind of legacy and it can even connect us to ancestors or people across the globe whom we will never meet. Moreover, she describes writing as “permission to reflect as well as giving yourself the time to reflect.” Susan added that we all have what she termed “parlor versions of ourselves,” where we learn how to tell stories about ourselves that are acceptable and work well in public. But in writing we get to “re-enter the experience at a different level.” This space and attention can “open new insights, find new depths” and help us in “making meaning.”

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Restorying our lives

Lana describes how writing allows us to “reclaim our stories” and to “choose how to tell them,” which she suggests is “a spiritual act.” “We can choose the stories we tell which helps us create a complete story. We get to restory our lives.” Lana has spent many years as a counsellor and is clearly very attuned to the therapeutic aspect of writing our stories. Telling our stories shows “that our voice matters” and restores our agency.

While the workbook takes the reader all the way through to possible publication, she adds that only a small percentage of folks who engage in this kind of writing actually try to publish. “Many are still trying to release the story, to get it out, to gain clarity.”  She and her co-authors also want to promote the idea that it is “okay to take your story public.” Susan adds that “story is the great democratic form,” as something we all share, and “that doesn’t simply privilege one person over another.”

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Writing is a bridge

Susan draws attention to how writing our stories can connect us. She previously published a series of stories by leaders from different faiths titled Stories in my Neighbour’s Faith. She shares how these stories (and all stories) give us more empathy for others. It allows us to enter other people’s worlds, to feel to some degree the emotions they feel. That is a deeply ethical practice. She spoke too of the interfaith benefits of that earlier effort. Hearing each others’ stories promotes understanding and can erode the barriers between us. 

Here, Susan went beyond my questions about writing’s therapeutic aspects, saying that “storytelling is peacemaking. It builds empathy, and understanding and yet is also humbling.” She concludes that it can “be a kind of ministry.”

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Recommendations? 

I could not hold back from asking if they have any recommendations of spiritual life writing. Besides the two books mentioned earlier, they recommended the newly released Soft as Bones by Chyana Marie Sage, Seeking Spirit by Vietnamese Canadian kids’ book author Linda Trinh, and Guelph-based Tamara Jong’s Worldly Girls which explores “the slow unraveling of her faith” as a devout Jehovah’s Witness. Susan’s own book Body & Soul: Stories for Skeptics and Seekers is an anthology of many writers telling stories they wanted to share.

Chatting with these two women made an impact on me. I have some stories I have wrestled with a long time. I think I’m going to get a journal and try writing a bit to see what I can make of these experiences. How about you? Is there a story you might like to write? Might it help you to journal or to write it all for an audience large or small? If you’re considering something a bit more ambitious, you might find Lana, Susan and Sharon’s workbook a great aid. It has sections on finding your voice, exercises to get your imagination flowing, tips for planning, establishing a writing routine, and what to know about publishing. In short, you will find here good and trusted guides, encouraging you along the way. 

Writing is not only a kind of magic…it’s a magic you can access if you want to.