So much of our lives, and our writing, focuses on fear, grief, and loss. The essay examples I most frequently share center around pain of some sort, and most of my students show up to class intending to write about past trauma. And for good reason.

Growth often happens on the heels of devastation, and most readers don’t want to hear from writers who have all their shit together. Recently, I listened to an episode of Glennon Doyle’s “We Can Do Hard Things” with Cheryl Strayed, and found myself vigorously nodding my head at this truism from Strayed: 

The women I admire and respect don’t get that way because shit worked out. They got that way because shit went wrong and they handled it. 

That quote is one of many reasons I encourage students to try James Pennebaker’s writing exercise in my classes. The basic gist: Write about a trauma, loss, gripe, or grief that is preventing you from moving forward in your life. But don’t just do it once. Linger on the subject for 15 to 20-minutes for four consecutive days.

With Pennebaker, we’re advised to sit in our own muck until the charge lessens. And yes, evidence suggests that approach helps people process pain, but I venture to guess that fixating on past trauma may also prolong heartache.

Flip to a Happier Channel

Countless studies extol the virtues of counting our blessings, making gratitude lists, and focusing on the positive. Dating back to 2007, Helen Marlo, Ph.D., Professor and Chair in the Department of Clinical Psychology at Notre Dame de Namur University published research suggesting that writing happy memories, gratitudes, and uplifting character sketches of loved ones who have hurt or left us can be more healing than trying to write our way through trauma.

So this November, I’ve made a conscious decision to set aside all of the bad things that have happened in my life and to focus instead on marinating in the good stuff. Instead of writing about grief, loss, and pain, I’m writing about the moments that light me up, unexpected acts of kindness, and loved ones — and random strangers — who buoyed me when I was sinking. My focal point of the moment is our bull terrier mutt, Bosley (pictured above).

If you’ve never penned a piece about a positive, fulfilling, enlightening experience that didn’t stem from trauma, I encourage you to put pen to page and give it a try. Whether these stories get published or not, I’m convinced they’re good for the soul, especially during the holiday season, which can be bittersweet for many reasons.

Write a Gratitude Letter

Nearly every year, before Thanksgiving hits, I write a letter of gratitude — usually one that’s long overdue. Some of these letters become published personal narratives. Others remain locked away on my hard drive indefinitely. Here are several examples of the former:

  • In 2009, I wrote a letter to my husband’s late wife that ultimately became a “My Turn” column in Newsweek.
  • In 2014, I explored how my graduate school professor helped me find myself in the midst of a medical crisis.
  • In 2016, what started as a letter to the neighbor who saved my son’s life became an essay for Good Housekeeping.
  • In 2017, I wrote a letter to the stranger in Trader Joe’s who offered a helping hand when my kids (and I!) were mid-meltdown.
  • And in 2018, I wrote to the hummingbirds I stalked in an attempt to connect with my late father.

This year I penned a Tiny Gratitude Story about the aforementioned grad school professor and, in addition to my “Bosley Diaries,” I’ll be crafting a letter to a former boyfriend, the first person I dated after my surgery to remove an adrenal tumor that made me feel unlovable.

Now, it’s your turn! Send me a letter of gratitude to anyone of your choosing for your chance to win a free essay class in 2023!

WRITING PROMPT

Write a thank you note to someone who has had a profound influence on your life, especially if that someone has no idea how much they affected you.

Several years ago, I wrote “The Accidental In-Law” using this prompt as a springboard.

PRO ADVICE
Start a “happy journal” where you detail your most precious memories. For four days straight, and 15 minutes at a stretch, search the dark recesses of your mind for details that make you light up inside.