Making It Real: An All-Day Writing Workshop

I love it when people ask when my next all-day writing workshop will be. These workshops produce so much wonderful discovery, spiritual growth, and encouraging fellowship between those who attend. We eat, share, write, cry, and drink lots of tea and coffee. The meeting room is a large conference room at the Hampton Inn in Raleigh/Cary, North Carolina.

So since there is an interest, now there will be a workshop!

This all-day workshop is open to anyone who wants to discover the benefits of writing from heartache. There are many sorrows in life; writing through them brings healing, health and hope! Join us if you are going through or have been through a rough season and want to find helpful ways to pen your anger, lessons learned, frustration, or even joy. Let's be authentic! Let's make it real.

Be sure to sign up today to get the Early Bird Special!

Making It Real:

An All-Day Workshop of

Writing From the Heart


Date: Saturday, August 8, 2015

Time: 9:00 AM to 4 PM

Location: Hampton Inn and Suites

111 Hampton Woods Lane, Raleigh, NC 27607

Phone:(919) 233-1798




Facilitated by Alice J. Wisler



Alice is a bereaved mother, author of six novels, one devotional, a cookbook compiler (in memory of children), freelance writer, social worker, and instructor of many writing through grief workshops. She travels the country presenting her workshops of healing, health and hope.





In addition to having plenty of time to freely write, we'll focus on the following:

*Emotions in writing and how to make them real in our work

*How to write realistic dialogue

*What to leave in, what to keep out of our writing

*Tips for self-critiquing our own work

* Learning from the Greats --- how to write better prose

* Discovering our unique voices in our writing

* How to help others through our tough seasons



A light breakfast and lunch, as well as snacks, will be provided and are included in your workshop fee.



What you need to bring:

*Your own notebook or journal

*A comfortable pen




Click here to: Sign up today!

Write to Heal: Online Workshop starts March 30!

Are your thoughts muddled? Is your heart broken? Are you going through a difficult season in your life?



Learn to write poetry, essays, and letters to and in memory of your loved one. Pouring out your pain onto paper is cheap therapy and in this guided course I will show you how to use writing as a tool for healing. The course lessons will be sent to you via email each week.


The beauty of this workshop is that you can work at your own pace in the comfort of your own home. Each week, you will be instructed on how to complete your assignments. Once completed, send them back to me and I will critique your work, offer suggestions, and support.

I started this workshop in 2001 for those, like me, who lost a child to death. Others who had a loved one (not a child) die took the course and found it beneficial. Then, those who had suffered wounds in their lives (significant sorrow and losses) participated in the workshop and told me that this course is for anyone who has experienced heartache. The testimonies speak loudly---writing through anguish brings healing, no matter what path you are on. ~ Alice J. Wisler

Outline for Writing the Heartache Online Workshop
1. Week One: Introduction - Getting to Know You
2. Week Two: Introducing Your Loved One Through Poetry
3. Week Three: Writing a Letter to Your Loved One and to Others
4. Week Four: Writing for Change - The Essay
5. Week Five: Writing for Publication


Sign up today for the March 30th workshop. Click the link below to register or for more information:
Writing the Heartache

What's Love Got to do With it? Valentine's and Journaling

My oldest was talking about her new position at work and how much it takes out of her. This morning she said to me before heading to her job, "I didn't really want to, and for some reason, I put it off, but when I did write in my journal last night, it helped so much. It was freeing."

Yes!

All that chaos in our brains----from work, or grief, or just from the daily situations life hands us-----can make us worry, doubt, and become even fearful. Yet, unleashing it onto a blank page is liberating! We don't have to carry the load alone in our hearts. When we put pen to paper, it's like sharing problems with a trusted friend. The page carries the weight of our emotions for us. We've literally, taken it off our chests.

It's almost Valentine's Day, the day set aside to show love. Show yourself some love by giving your heart needed attention----write!

Writing is healthy, inexpensive, stress-reducing, and can be done just about anywhere.

And yes, it is freeing!

Make writing a way of life. Start with just five minutes. You might be surprised all that you have stored inside your heart that needs to come out.

Keep in mind:
* Freely write, no censoring allowed!
* Writing to music helps many write more honestly
* Don't worry about messy handwriting or spelling--this is for your eyes only
* You don't have to share with anyone
* Writing about real issues has been proven in a study (by Professor James Pennabaker) to lower blood pressure and heart rates
* After some time, you can develop a healthy habit of journaling

"Pick up your pen and see how grateful your heart will become." ~ Alice J. Wisler

Missing You: From Brian to his son Jason

Here is a poem from one of my Writing the Heartache online students. Thanks, Brian Asci, for your willingness to let me post your work here in memory of your son Jason.

Missing You

Future plans of time together
Sharing the memories past and future
Gone in an instant
With no warning.
Time has passed since you left me behind
But memories of happy times together,
Happy thoughts and silly stunts are what remain,
Not just anguish and pain
You were and will always be
A son, a friend, and
Most of all a big part of me.
You know I speak to you daily
Although it’s not the same.
I miss your smile, Your laugh,
you’re smart remarks
And anecdotes
One day I know we’ll meet again,
but until then I miss you son,
More than you’ll ever know.
Last but not least I miss the messages
Left On my phone,
“Has anyone told you they loved you today Dad? I do, I do.”

~ Brian Asci

Christmas Blah Revisited

I posted this on my other blog, Alice Wisler, but wanted to add it to this blog for all my readers here.


Christmas 2010
~ Alice J. Wisler

Another Christmas. Here I go again . . .

Gearing up to this season, there were the nuisances from living (basically, things not going how I wished they would) that many of us face. I’ve learned to adapt to most of those because I’ve had lots of years of living to adapt!

Yet, what got to me was that feeling of apathy as I set out to do the inevitable—fight the crowds at Christmas shopping. I felt lifeless. Joyless.

What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so ho-hum this Christmas?

The songs on the radio didn’t help. I couldn’t get excited over hoping for a white Christmas of wondering what Santa would bring me from his sleigh of goodies. And that was even after I realized he had to bring me something; I’ve been pretty good this year.

I decided that I needed to combat this mood with gratitude, so I counted my blessings. I have so many, including five kinds of tea in the pantry and a computer that works, and is currently, virus-free. With kids and a husband who love me, what was the problem?

When Mariah Carey sang, "All I want for Christmas is you," the words stuck, lodging in my heart.

Of course. I was missing my son, Daniel, and the desire to have him here, was heavy. Without his mother’s permission, Daniel would spend another Christmas in Heaven.

Putting on a pair of earrings and a scarf I love in hopes that they would make me feel festive, I set out to shop. With so many decisions to make, I took my time, the lump of blahness still filling my heart like the lumps of coal the naughty kids are threatened with.

It was while standing at the boxed chocolate that one word came to me. Write. I teach writing through grief and what amazes me, is that even after all these years since my son’s death, I sometimes forget that I need writing to help me cope.

Just knowing how helpful and healing writing is for my soul, I smiled, grateful that once this shopping ordeal ended, I could slip behind my computer and pour out my sadness.

Yes, I was missing Daniel. Yes, it has been thirteen years since he breathed his last. And, no, Christmas will never be complete without him here.

However. I typed that word really big. In spite of it all, or because of my loss, perhaps, I have learned. If Christmas is just a feel-good occasion with a romantical (this is a word, I know, my husband used it once and I told him it doesn’t exist, but some old Oxford dictionary agrees with him that it does) side, then no wonder I feel empty. If it’s about feeling warm and cozy or about being excited over a tree with presents underneath, then I feel cheated.

Because I don’t feel warm and cozy. And, compared to the rest of the world, I live in an affluent society; I don’t need more things.

Except for the gifts that cannot be purchased by humans. Peace. Self-less-ness. Humility. Grace. Forgiveness. The ability to forgive others. Over and over.

These lavish gifts were given. They came on a night halfway around the world thousands of years ago. These are the treasures that do more than sparkle and dazzle. These are what my aching heart need.

Christmas again. A season where so many promises are made on TV, telling me that all will be merry if I just bake the right cookie or buy the silver sedan for my loved ones. Of course I don’t buy into those notions. Yet, I would like to feel at least a little Christmas cheer.

And, lo and behold, I do! Because I’ve taken the gift of writing and used it to guide me into a peaceful realization! The conclusion has been the same every year since Daniel’s death: I am broken, frail, and wounded. There are days I’m tired of being me and wish some gracious, loving, carefree woman would take over.

There was a time when I was able to focus less on the Christmas story and the hope it brings, and more on the fleeting exhilaration of decking the halls and having a cup of eggnog. But no more. My son’s demise and death made me appreciate the birth of Jesus Christ more. I know what it is like to struggle, to suffer, to sink into sorrow.

For in the birth comes God with us: Emmanuel. Love Incarnate stooping down to meet us in our nasty conditions, in our pain, our shame, and blahness, so that we can have those valuable intangible presents he bestows. These are the priceless gifts the world with all its fortune can never master. Great blessings of His Heaven!


"How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven
No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin
Where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in.

Oh holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today
We hear the Christmas angels, the great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us, our lord Emanuel." ~ From “O Little Town of Bethlehem”




To read more about writing through grief, check out this article: How to Use the Tool of Grief-Writing to Heal
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/115539/how_to_use_the_tools_of_griefwriting.html?#comments

Poetry by a Writing the Heartache Online Workshop Student

Resting Place


She’s been laid to rest
Some visit and some don’t
For many it’s just too hard I guess
Everyday her daddy brings fresh flowers
Caring for this space
He wonders why . . . Oh God, with all your powers?
Her Resting Place
In the granite stone
Is her name and pretty face
There we bring pictures, trinkets and some of her favorite things
Just trying to make her feel not so alone
Reminding her how much we love her and how much her loss still stings
As the rose petals wilt
They are sprinkled upon her
Like a deep red quilt
Momma is too far away
To see her everyday
But Momma never stops thinking
Of her little girl in every way
Momma is reminded this not a test
Their little girl has been laid to rest

~ By K. O.

Guest post by Deb K.

Things I Wish I Knew
~ Deb K.

Why is it that in death people become larger than life? Why do we think about all
the things we didn't do and gloss over all the things we did. Why does time always
run out quicker than we think? What do we do with the pieces of themselves they
leave behind and the pieces that remain of us?

How do we answer and deal with people who aren't comfortable with our fragments, who
want us to be whole, and who we were, not just a shadow of ourselves. How do we keep
going when each day seems harder than the one before? How do we heal our broken
hearts? Do we?

I think about each person I have loved who has died. Each person whose dying left me
struggling with the same questions as the one before. I wonder why the answers are
so hard to find. I wonder if they weren't, would it matter anyway.

I wonder what they are thinking. I wonder if they are thinking. Do they miss me,
like I miss them? Do they feel the pain I am feeling? Does believing they are in a
better place take away my right to grieve? Do I really believe they are in a better
place or are those just words I have learned to say?

This Saturday

As many of you know, my journal was a beloved friend to me when my son died in 1997. I took it everywhere. Since then I have written and found such healing through putting words onto paper.

Across the USA, I've taught about the value of writing through pain for healing, hope and health. I've heard some tender stories and learned from fellow writers who also grieve the death of their loved one.

A dream for me has been to host an all-day grief-writing workshop and this Saturday, it is going to happen! The Writing the Heartache Workshop takes place from 8 AM to 5 PM at the Country Inns and Suites in Morrisville, NC (near the RDU Airport). While my focus is on the life and death of my son, Daniel, others who have not lost a child, but a significant loved one, have taken my online classes and found them to be therapeutic. Those with broken relationships also find meaning in writing through the lessons. Let's face it, writing is great therapy!

I hope you can join us his Saturday, July 17th! Feel free to email me with any questions. info@alicewisler.com

Welcome, guest blogger, Sandy!

The Missing Piece
By Sandra P.

For the first two years after my son Jason died, I wrote daily. Writing truly did save me. Heartache, pain, questions and grief, spilled all over countless pages. Without the ability to write all of the words I could not say aloud, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

After those two years, I gradually stopped writing and I’m not sure why. I still can’t read many of the raw, heartbroken words I wrote during those days. Since then, I’ve been able to write very little about anything – including my son. So maybe writing will help again. I desperately want it to help. I want to write myself into the next stage of my life. I want to write to continue to heal.

Right now, it just makes my heart hurt almost as much it did during those first months. My throat is tight. Tears are just below the spilling point. But it also feels somehow comforting, in spite of the hurt. It feels like I am connecting, just a little, once again with the son I love so deeply and miss so badly.

My heart still grieves for Jason; my firstborn. My arms ache to hold him again. I long to brush the hair out of his big, brown eyes and tell him how much I love him. I want to talk with him about all the things that only he and I cared so much about.

During the last eight years life has gone on, even though I’ve often wished it wouldn’t. I look back and feel almost as though the years since his death have been some sort of dream – or nightmare. Even though I’ve continued to function, to love and be present for my living sons, to work and earn a living, to smile, to pretend I am doing fine – I realize that my life is largely a façade. I am not who people see on the outside. I am not the easy going, relatively happy person people think I am.

Inside, I am still crushed. Now, much of the pain is a dull ache, instead of sharp, jagged and raw. There is a part of our family and a piece of my heart missing. And I am left with many more questions than answers.

I still pray but I no longer think I know much about God or His purposes. How could the God I’ve loved for so long have allowed this? Why wasn’t I a better mother? Why wasn’t his heart condition ever diagnosed? Why didn’t I try harder to make him go to a doctor? Why didn’t I see that something was wrong? He was an adult, but I am his mother. Mothers protect their children – always. And I failed. I did not protect him. I could not save him. Why why why?

All I’m left with are memories and questions that can never be answered. And, I just now realize, quite a bit of anger.

Call to Listen In!

On June 24th I'll share some favorite grief poetry on my Writing the Heartache BlogTalkRadio. I would be delighted if friends and fellow-grievers would call in before the show and tell me some poetry that's been meaningful to them. Sharing Our Words is the name of this segment for that day, and if you want to call in, let me know before the show starts by calling (347) 855-8990. Have the poem ready that you wish to share on the air. It can be a poem you composed or one someone else wrote that speaks to you. Or send the poem to me at: wisler@mindspring.com with Poetry in the subject line and I'll read it on the show.

Even if you don't feel up to calling in, be sure to listen to the program via your computer speakers.

Sharing Our Words
June 24th
1:00 - 1:15 PM
Writing the Heartache BlogTalkRadio