How the Light Gets In: Writing as a Spiritual Practice

by Pat Schneider

when I begin to write, I open myself and wait. And when I turn toward an inner spiritual awareness, I open myself and wait.

Writing is for me the surest way to find out where I am and to open the gate to where I might go next. It is time to pick up the central threads and see how they weave together. And so I have taken upon myself this task: to give voice to what has been growing within me, a conviction that writing itself can open into mystery.

Both writing and praying are acts of deep vulnerability. It is so easy for us to mistrust our own ten letters of the alphabet. But if we do not reach into inner and outer space—for morning stars sing together in both—we may miss the most exquisite relationship human life offers.

In writing and in prayer we are essentially alone in the presence of mystery, regardless of whether we have companions around us. The inner journey is one we walk alone, as the old gospel song says: You’ve got to walk that lonesome valley. You’ve got to walk it by yourself. Ain’t nobody else can walk it for you, you’ve got to walk it by yourself.

Beginning to write is an intentional, particular, inner act; usually it seems like turning toward something unknown in my mind—an inward looking, listening.

Writing and prayer are both a form of love, and love takes courage.

writing has demanded of me honesty, courage, listening, and waiting. Putting pen to paper has become my most essential spiritual practice, my most effective prayer.

I reach writing through an act of waiting and listening: I make false starts; I get in my own way; I try again. Putting words onto paper—when it is done as an honest act of search or connection, rather than as an act of manipulation,

To open a door in one’s mind, whether in writing, in prayer, or in writing-as-prayer, is to invite an experience of “the deep.” It is rather like standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean at night, a cliff from which I can hear the pounding surf below me, and see in the distance a multitude of stars.

I love the story about having faith enough to jump, knowing that the wind will rise up to meet you.”

Writing can move us to compassion for our younger selves, struggling with the same questions we probably will raise later, but with so much more of life and its lessons behind us.