Here is the writing I did while in our circle as a sample from the pages of my journal:
I dare to care out more time to write my memoir. I have been working on this project off and on, mostly off – for the past 20 years – since the first time I met my birth mother when I was 30 years old.
I dare to allow the title this book to form itself. At the moment its working title is Surrender: An Adoptee’s Memoir. It used to be called Umbilical Cord: An Adoptee’s Memoir (at least I am clear on the sub-title!).
I dare to tell the deep truth of my experience as an adoptee.
I dare to venture into the heart and soul of identity, loss, family and the power of love – both in bloodlines and in choice.
I dare to honour both my mothers and my late father, and my biological father who I will likely never meet.
I dare to write this book as a love letter in part, including the messy parts, the heart breaking parts, that are true of most love stories in this life even the enduring ones. Maybe especially the enduring ones.
I dare to remember, even some of the things I’ve tried to forget, write them down, in draft form first and then in the draft after that – for everyone knows a final book, is many versions past the first draft.
I dare to pull the many thousands of word that I have written so far, off my shelf and out of computer folders – and begin again, as if for the first time, to make order out of them.
There is well over 60,000 words written so far, many edited already from editors I have hired and writing workshops/groups I have participated in.
Recently, Chris and Carrie, my fellow writing group members for the past three years, said to me: “You have to finish this book. It is going to make a difference for a lot of people. We need more adoption stories told. We need your story told.”
They asked, “what will it take to finish this book?”
I dare to allow myself to answer that question.
I dare to do that very soon.
In the book, I quote: “Adoption is the only trauma where we expect the victim to be grateful.”
I dare to unpack this truth in my story, and let surrender lead the way.
I dare to let writing itself show me where to go next.
I dare to…
Dare me to take this book to the finish line once and for all.
Journaling Prompt: What do you dare to do?
Journal Entry by Lynda Monk, Director, IAJW.org