Journaling

As some of you know, I used to journal but several years ago, I burned them in a giant bonfire. Why, you might ask? Because I was burning my mother’s diaries at the time, and I was horrified by the realization that someone I cared for might read mine and my words might break their heart.

Do I have regrets? Only one. That I didn’t give my sisters or my brother a chance to be part of that decision.

Anyway, since then I’ve never journaled. I love the idea of it but shy away from the reality.

Instead, I’ve found a way to keep a diary of sorts without the deep intimacy of one.

For some time now I’ve been jotting things down in a little brown book. Bits of advice and lessons on the craft of writing I come across. Quotes. Poems I find. Song lyrics. And wow, I had a thought the other day that made me laugh.

I kind of want to keep this non-journal a secret in the hopes that some day I can haunt those I love and watch them trying to figure out my diary.

There are things in this little book that I write down because it triggers a fantastic story idea. Or a poem that an amazing character can be built from. There’s writing advice I want to share with my son. There are snippets I want to remember to share with a poet friend, or something that makes me laugh that I really want to pass on.

Then there are words that make me cry. That reach down into my soul and breathe out ‘this is who you are’.

Which is which?

Well, I know, obviously. But it will be so much fun to haunt those loved ones as they read the non-journal and wonder if I was crazy, or depressed, or a closet witch.

That is, if they can read my handwriting. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this little poem from the non-journal and you can wonder about why I might have chosen it. This is by Lauren Oliver.

“It’s amazing how words can do that, just shred your insides apart. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me – such bullshit.”

Flying to Freedom

Juliana Rose Teal has just published her memoir, Flying to Freedom: Healing From Ritual Abuse Through My Life’s Work and Flight. As with all memoirs, the road to this point has been long and difficult. Yet, she has a powerful story to tell and I’m thankful that she found the strength she needed to stick with writing this. The memoir itself may be difficult for some to read, but as Juliana says below, this interview will be gentle with the reader.

Your memoir tackles a difficult subject, and healing is a clear theme. Did you consciously set out with that theme immediately apparent to you, and were there other themes or messages you wanted to explore?

Yes. I wanted Flying to Freedom to be about healing. That is my sole theme.

I wrote my memoir to shed light on satanic ritual abuse, but I wanted to be as gentle with the reader as possible. For this reason, scenes of my astrology, medium, and healing work, scenes of flight training and flying, and descriptions of nature far outweigh the scenes of abuse.

Each chapter that describes flying is tied to my healing process. I showed how I persevered through learning fears and gained confidence as I mastered different aspects of flight. Each flying accomplishment began breaking the hold the cult and my abusive parents had over me.

The chapters about my work are also tied to my healing. I gained self-assurance as I worked with clients, and learned to trust myself and also the guides (angels) that work so closely with me. My work and my intuitive abilities opened and healed my spirituality which was something that had been taken away from me as a child.

My goal is to show that no matter what trauma we have endured, healing is possible, and even though our scars remain, we can find enjoyment and fulfillment in life.

You had many, many roadblocks to telling your story, from the personal to the professional (as in editors telling you it would never happen). What helped you remain true to this story?

I sure did! The whole process of writing and publishing has been quite the learning experience.

I was about halfway through the book when I realized I needed some help. I know how to write
(this is something that has always come naturally to me), but I felt something was missing in
terms of tying my theme to the different storylines in my book. I began to look for an editor to
help me, which was difficult because I had no connections to the writing world. I found the
names of two editors in the back of two New York Times best-selling novels. I contacted them.
Neither would edit books on abuse, but both saw samples of my writing, and I received the gift
of them telling me that I was a talented writer. I had never shown my writing to anyone (besides my monthly astrology newsletter). Their belief in my writing abilities helped me continue to move forward.

Then I approached another editor. She thought my life story sounded interesting and agreed to
edit my book. We exchanged many lengthy emails, where she asked too many detailed
questions about the books I have read and my approach to my book. She eventually asked me
to send my manuscript. A few weeks later I received an incredibly abusive email from her,
letting me know that I should toss this manuscript and write something else. She said some
terribly harsh things that were untrue and uncalled for. I fired her.

I despaired that I would not find an editor, and thought for a short time about stopping. But
what helped me to remain true to my story and continue was an inner knowing that I was
called to shine light on ritual abuse, and that my story is unique and must be told. I felt my book
would be healing to other survivors of any trauma, and that kept me going.

Over time, I not only found one editor, I found three to work with! All had different talents and
focuses. The information they shared helped me to complete my book. Their belief in my story
and their desire to see it published healed the pain of dealing with the abusive editor and
helped solidify my determination to publish my book.

How do you think the manuscript evolved during the editing process?

My book changed quite a bit over time. I cleaned up sentences and fixed typos. I was reminded
to expand certain parts of the book—I had been concerned that I was giving too many details of
my life in certain sections, but found when I expanded these sections, it actually added more
richness and interest to my book.

I also changed some of the content of my manuscript. I learned that each book has one theme.
Just one! Chapters that stray from the theme of the book take away from the storyline and can
cause a loss of focus that can weaken a book. I deleted several chapters that did not contain
healing themes. It was difficult to do, because I liked these chapters, but ultimately, it tightened
and improved my book quite a bit.

Because this is a memoir, obviously you have lived the story your whole life. But at the same time, you’ve carried the weight of needing to share the story, to write it down, for a long time. What does it feel like, having the memoir finally done?

It feels amazing. I worked hard on it for over five years, and to have the finished product in my
hands feels surreal. It is very exciting, yet it is also a bit scary. I did not have a difficult time
writing the book, even the abuse scenes, because I have wanted to write my entire life. I am
fascinated with the writing process and this distracted me from the difficulties I could have
experienced when writing about abuse.

But putting my book out there into the world is another matter. There is a feeling of
vulnerability that comes with it. I have always been a private person, and now the world knows
intimate and painful details of my life.

There is, unfortunately, a lot of denial that satanic ritual abuse exists. I am sure I will run up
against the people who will say that my story is not true because such horrendous abuse is not
possible.

But I am happy my book has been published, and hope that it helps other survivors and their
loved ones.

You became a healer because of the life you had but I’m wondering what you dreamed you would be when you were young.

I was made to believe, from a very young age, that becoming a doctor would be a good career
for me. I am not sure why my parents insisted on this. It would not have been. I have always
loved animals and nature but never thought it was possible to make this love into a career, so I
imagine as a child, any musings about this were stuffed deep inside of me. From a young age I
wanted to be a writer, but I found no encouragement for this path, and did not have the
confidence to pursue it. I did have a hidden interest in the metaphysical/spiritual, and if I had
been allowed to dream about having a career that I desired, I most likely would have dreamed
about this as well.

After all it’s taken you to get to a finished book, to be able to hold your voice in your hands, do you think there is another story waiting to be told inside you?

I would love to write another book, but am not sure what to write about. I am thinking about it.

With the knowledge of the writing process that you now have, what would you do differently when writing another book?

I have learned a lot about linking stories together in a book to help with the flow. My first draft
did not link stories within a chapter or even chapters together well. Now that I am aware of how important this is, I would make sure my next book had good flow from the start. Other
than that, I would proceed in the same fashion—motivation was never a problem, so I would
write every day, and when I was ready, submit my manuscript to editors.

Thank you for taking the time to answer these questions, but thank you even more for sharing such an intimate, difficult, and powerful story.

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How Old Are You?

We have new neighbors with young children. Their son asked me the other day how old I was. His parents, mortified, tried unsuccessfully to interrupt him. When I told him, he said ‘Wow! That’s really old!’. His parents were even more mortified. I thought it was funny.

Recently, my great-nephew was asked if he knew who his oldest relative was, and he said me. When asked how old he thought I was, he said 100. I thought it was funny.

That little cutie with the red shirt. Right there. Thinks I’m 100.

Then I started thinking about age. I’ve mentioned this before, but I remember when I was about nine, the teacher telling us we would be twenty-one when Haley’s comet flew by. I still remember thinking I’d never be that old. One of my sisters just reminded me of the Beatle’s song ‘will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m sixty-four’. I’d never be that old. Except, as of yesterday, that’s exactly how old I am. I still think that’s funny.

The sister who reminded me of the Beatle’s. On a hike that is still one of my best memories.

Do you remember the stages of aging?

There was the milestone of becoming double digits. Of turning sweet sixteen. Old enough to drive. Graduating from high school. Turning twenty-one (and Haley’s comet flying by). It seems like after twenty-one, the milestones changed and possibly became less important. Then it was turning thirty. Then forty. And, my god, turning FIFTY!

I wonder when a specific age changed from something that seemed like a huge milestone, a step to adulthood, a major shift in life, to something less important. I’m also trying to remember those early, big milestones.

First campout with his environmental science class.

Sixteen was embarrassing. Everyone asking if I’d never been kissed or never been missed. How are you supposed to answer that? Did you really want to admit to either? Were you supposed to be proud or ashamed?

Twenty-one has good memories. The Scottish dance group I was involved with held a party and gave me a giant cardboard key. It was a tradition that a young woman received the key to the house at that age. My parents took me to an expensive restaurant which was a very rare event in our household. I remember feeling like a threshold had been crossed into adulthood. My brother was more thrilled because I was legal age to buy beer. Somewhere along that path I realized adulthood was still on the horizon.

The big threshold of turning ten days old.

Thirty was a huge milestone. Actually, to be more accurate, twenty-eight. That’s when I moved to the mountains and realized I’d always been meant to live in the woods. The thirties was when I found where I was meant to be, met the man who would marry me, had a child, came out of the closet about writing.

Always my hero.

Thinking about this though, makes me wonder when we lose that sense of excitement. That next goal, next horizon to look forward to, next marker in the stage of life to reach for. What age were you when birthdays changed from milestones that marked looking forward to milestones that marked looking backward?

I’m still looking forward. I laugh when people hear how old I am and tell me I don’t look that old. I laugh when little kids stare at me in awe because their great aunt is ancient. Do I have an age to look forward to now? I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to a specific age because I don’t really pay attention normally to dates.

But hey! Senior discounts!