The Alchemist’s Ink: Turning Pain into Writing and Poetry

 

In my "harbor home", there is a corner where the light hits the water just right. It is my sanctuary. As a hypnotherapist, I spend my days building bridges for others, helping them move from the noise of Atlantis to the heart-wisdom of Lemuria. But as a human being, I face my own 'black clouds'—the uncertainty of a loved one's health and the quiet fears and worries that follow. And they do; they always do.

To deal with all that life brings us, we have many techniques to cope and overcome, but we must also continue to thrive no matter what life serves us. Honestly, it is always something—important, less important, or banal. There is a line in a song I love: “Live it all even if it hurts, walking on the endless water” (Artist: BLOW, Song: “Dancing Waters”).

To navigate these waters, I use the metaphor of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with gold. Instead of hiding the cracks, they are illuminated. I imagine pouring the "gold" of my blogs, my poetry, and my HeartMath coherence into the cracks of the daily challenges I face.

"The crack is where the light gets in." — Leonard Cohen

I have learned that the secret to peace is not to run from pain, but to transmute it. Like an alchemist turning lead into gold, I take the heavy weight of my fear and sit with it. I acknowledge where it sits in my body. I breathe into it—inhaling for five, exhaling for five—and I watch it transmute into unconditional acceptance, that high Lemurian state of being.

Then, I pick up my pen. Whether it is a diary entry, a blog, or a poem, scientific research shows that writing about "the self" helps flush negative emotions from the nervous system. When the Poet’s Muse arrives, the noise of the world stops. I draw my velvet curtains—blue for the past, burgundy for the future—and I stand in the power of Now.

This isn't just 'writing.' It is a biological reset. Science tells us that creative expression lowers our entropy and restores our internal rhythm. It is my way of saying to the universe: 'I don’t mind what happens,' because I have the power to turn whatever happens into something beautiful.

If you are facing your own cloud today, I invite you to find your 'ink.' Find that one thing that makes your heart dance, even for a moment. In that moment of creation, you aren't just a victim of fate—you are an Architect of Mind and an Alchemist of Heart.