The Year Begins with an Exhale

Letting Our Stories Fall, Rise, and Transform Through Writing

The New Year begins with an exhale—letting go of the stale air of the past year and making space for a new breath to fill you up. Inspiration for new stories comes from inhalations, and first, we need to make space with the exhale. The root of the word inspire comes from the Latin inspirare, meaning "to breathe." It's something we can do effortlessly, at any moment—even right now. Go ahead, try it.

For many of us, 2024 felt like the ground was constantly shifting beneath our feet. Whether from personal loss, illness, the struggles of loved ones, global political unrest, or environmental disasters—or even unexpected joys, growth, and new beginnings—these experiences left many of us feeling unmoored, as though there was nothing stable to hold onto. But what if we stopped clinging to the illusion of stability? What if we let go and allowed ourselves to fall?

One of my favorite quotes comes from Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher. He writes, “The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is there’s no ground.”

As we move into a new year together, the question becomes: how can we find our breath and a sense of safety as we fall through the air?

Writing as a Grounding Practice

There are two truths I return to again and again: First, a writing practice can act like a compass when we feel like we’re falling. Bringing the pen to the page, making our innermost thoughts and feelings visible, offers direction, comfort, and clarity. Over time, it fosters a feeling of groundedness—even when there’s no ground.

Second, doing this work in community offers a shared sense of safety. When we come together to tell and share our stories, we can borrow one another’s groundedness and courage, creating a shared well of resilience. From this point, we can impact the change we need individually and contribute to the communities we care about.

This year gave me gifts beyond my wildest dreams—and some I could have done without. I embarked on a challenging MSW program at Fordham University and deepened my journey of writing as a healing practice from a clinical lens. I learned social work skills for approaching writing as a mental health intervention. I also have had the opportunity to provide therapeutic writing offerings directly to seniors in private settings. These experiences, layered with decades of work in corporate publishing, mindfulness-based meditation, and trauma-informed yoga, continue to deepen my understanding of the stories we carry in our bodies and minds.

I also walked through profound grief and fear in my personal life and reached for my own personal writing practice like a life raft. Through it all, I continue to be amazed by the reliable power of writing to heal, reveal, and connect us to ourselves and one another. Here’s what I know: Our stories hold the key to our healing potential—personally and societally—and how we hold our stories matters.

So often, we can find ourselves through writing, we can locate and unlock hidden stories and feelings with the page. The page acts as a security blanket or companion that offers a bridge to our truths, to our authentic selves, and to one another. This is how a writing practice can foster personal transformation and community connection.

"Writing helps us turn chaos into clarity and fosters connection—within ourselves and with one another."

My writing practice grounded me through change and grief this year, but I didn’t walk this path alone. I saw this truth unfold in our Narrative Healing community in technicolor in 2024. There’s a magical alchemy that happens when we write with one another. Throughout the year, we have met week in and week out for live Narrative Healing Weekly Labs, where we write with one another. We have also met for live monthly Listening Circles where I’ve witnessed the power of sharing our stories in a safe community.

Through the Narrative Healing modality of positive mirroring, I’ve witnessed how we reflect each other’s worth and greatness, allowing our voices to shine. In our gatherings, I’ve witnessed how we borrow bravery from one another, and our words come alive in shared spaces for courage, vulnerability, and connection that transform our stories and ourselves. We lift each other up and model what is possible.

I’m grateful for the words shared by incredible members of our community:

“The mind-body practices in a group setting restore a sense of community in what could otherwise be a very isolating time. I'm very grateful for the regular opportunity for centering, connection, and creative self expression through writing each week.”

“I have always been a writer but I have seen the quality of my writing change since I began the narrative healing labs.”

“I felt connected to kindred spirits who lived the same experience as me and that was really affirming and necessary.”

“Labs are so nourishing and healing for me. I am generating a lot of creativity and tapping into some stories that have been locked away.”

These words resonate deeply because they reflect the core of what we create together: a space where stories emerge, voices strengthen, and creative energy flows. Whether you’re stepping into this new year with a clear project or simply seeking inspiration, know that your story has a place here. Studies show that we receive the maximum benefit from a writing practice when it’s done consistently over time, with earnest effort. This is such a tall order in a time full of chaos, crisis, and struggle, yet it’s something we can achieve with one another.

Accountability is more than seeking achievement with others; true accountability is putting someone else’s growth alongside yours and even ahead of yours, and it’s the essence of how community works. We are wired to connect with one another, and in challenging times, we can be more motivated to help another than ourselves. On a cellular level, our bodies know: my survival is dependent on your survival. And, since our stories are part of our bodies, our stories know this too.

As we turn the page to a new year, I’m grateful for the transformations I’ve had the privilege to witness in our community. Time and time again, I see writers step into this space carrying doubts, hesitations, or a clear agenda—only to emerge with a renewed sense of purpose, creativity, and connection.

One moment that stays with me is how often someone will say, “I’m not a writer,” or, “I don’t know if my story matters.” And then, surrounded by the quiet magic of listening and being truly heard, they begin to uncover something they never expected—a poem, a manifesto, or a truth they hadn’t yet named. It’s a gift to witness these moments of courage and self-discovery.

As we begin 2025, I’m inspired to continue and grow this compassionate listening community in the year ahead,

Awakening the Stories Within: Beginning a New Year with Narrative Healing

This January:

This January, we’ll start the year by awakening the stories within. Together, we’ll cultivate the conditions for creativity, self-compassion, and growth.

Join me for a live workshop on Sunday, January 5th, designed to help you:

• Reset your nervous system with a relaxation experience

• Learn a new kind of listening through guided breath exercises and gentle supported poses

• Invite a new story into your life with a guided writing prompt

👉 Learn more and join us here: [SIGN UP]

In this workshop, I’ll guide you to listen to the stories within. I’ll offer a relaxation experience designed to ease tension and unlock stories held in your body. Through a focus on gentle breath practices and supported restorative poses, you’ll explore how releasing physical and emotional stress creates space for renewal and creative expression. Reflective writing practices will help you connect with your inner voice and transform your experiences into healing narratives.

Reflection Questions:

As you prepare for the new year, take a moment to reflect:

1. Picture your favorite listener: someone who made you feel safe, seen, and supported. Imagine their presence—their energy, their shape. What did they do (or not do) that made you feel relaxed and willing to share a tender story?

   • Describe their qualities.

2. Ask yourself truthfully: How do you usually listen to the stories within you? What do you do when emotions or thoughts surface? How does your body or breath react?

   • Describe what happens.

3. Offer these qualities to yourself: How can you bring the same care and presence to your writing practice?

As 2024 comes to a close, my heart feels bigger because of it. When the heart breaks, it breaks open. While there’s no promise of a soft landing from the fall, there’s great comfort in knowing we’re not alone. Writing creates a bridge—from the stories within us to the world outside and from our hearts to one another.

What’s one story waiting to be told? I’d love to hear it—and to see you in the January 5th workshop.

With love,
Lisa

PS Explore other ways to connect with us this January with two in-person retreats and our hybrid online course with Omega. Learn more <HERE>