During my first careers as teacher, recruiter and consultant, if someone had said, “You’re going to write a spiritual book,” I’d have burst out laughing. Little did I know that my invitation from Spirit was coming. It came in the form of a brutal divorce.
One morning, out of sheer desperation, I scribbled “Dear God,” across the top of a journal page. As I made the comma, a torrent of angry, frightened words piled up inside my pen. My story poured itself onto page after page. Venting felt good, so the next day, I wrote another diatribe to “Dear God.” After several days of barking at God, I wrote a question—a question I didn’t even know was inside me: “How did this happen? What have I been unwilling to see?” With these questions my monologue ended and a divine dialogue began.
For three years, I wrote to Dear God every day. I noticed something. If I asked for guidance, guidance came. If I asked for insight, insight came. When I asked for comfort, I was comforted. When I asked for protection, my son and I were safe. When I needed financial help, it came. I talked with Dear God about everything in my life—big and small.
Does that sound miraculous? It is. It’s miraculous how soul writing activates the Voice of Spirit. But it’s a miracle you can do. Here’s how.
Set your intention to connect with Spirit. Write by hand. (The computer keeps you in conscious mind and you want to get out of your stress-filled conscious mind.) Write directly to Spirit using your favorite name. Speak from the heart. Write fast. Writing fast gets you out of the way so Spirit can break through. Ask questions. Open-ended questions are the magic that activates the Voice. As your conversation for the day ends, say thank you. Be grateful for the experience.
New soul writers always ask me: Am I talking to God or to myself? Eyebrows sometimes scrunch when they hear my answer: The Voice is that which is inside you that is greater than you. But, they press, is that Spirit? Yes, I smile, it’s Spirit. It is the limitless source of wisdom, creativity, guidance and grace. But, please understand, it is also you. The Voice is Spirit in you.
That answer provokes my favorite question: How will I recognize the Voice? I love this question because it gives me the opportunity to watch people’s faces as they hear the sweet sound of the Voice, perhaps for the first time.
I recognize the Voice on my own pages when a new thought, idea or question I haven’t considered tumbles out or when the pen gleefully flies over the paper. Other soul writers see shifts in their handwriting, feel tingles in their hands or a sensation of warmth in their heart. But we all agree on one thing: The Voice is unmistakable because it speaks its own language—the language of unconditional love.
Let me give you one example. Jody, a 36-year-old woman in Florida, was with her mother every day of a nine-year struggle with cancer. Jody said they were more than mother and daughter; they were best friends and soul mates. When her mother died, Jody felt lost. She came to my workshop hoping to find some peace. In her very first 10-minute writing experience, the Voice burst through her confusion and tears to say in distinctive capital letters, “I AM UNBREAKABLY YOURS.” After everyone left, Jody showed me the page. In tears, she said, “This is the Voice, isn’t it?” “Oh yes,” I sighed, “this is the unmistakable sound of the Voice of Love.”
Would you like to hear that sweet Voice of Love? Pick up a pen and say, “I’m here.” The Voice will find you. “Hello beloved,” it will say. Welcome to the conversation that never ends—it just goes deeper and deeper to your whole, authentic, holy self. “I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s talk.”