Last Wednesday, while attending this year’s Challenge Into Change event, I reconnected with the power of community. Challenge Into Change is an annual writing program run by The Women’s Initiative, a local nonprofit that provides mental health services to women facing financial barriers. The mission of Challenge Into Change is to “nurture mental health and promote overall well-being through self-expression.” This year’s theme was “My Story, My Strength.”
When I worked as a pro bono therapist for them in 2013, several clients took me to the organization’s library so they could pull the anthology with their story off the shelf. As they handed it to me and said, “I’m a published author,” their eyes sparkled with pride. That book was proof that they and their story mattered.
So much of my work as a writer and writing coach takes place in the competitive world of traditional publishing, where rejection is a way of life. We recite taglines like, “All it takes is one,” as if they’re prayers that will give us the strength to submit our work until it finds a home.
There’s a thrill in the “yes,” but soon after, the dopamine rush of acceptance is replaced with questions about what’s next. Will it be received well? Will it get enough comments? Will it go viral? Will it lead to more opportunities or more of something else?
There’s nothing wrong with more. Hell, I chase it all the time. Yet embedded in the pursuit of more is the belief that we are not enough, and when we spend too much time in that space, we lose sight of our power.
The participants in this year’s event showed me how we regain that power and, most importantly, nurture it. As Dr. Beverly Colwell Adams shared in her opening remarks, “to even exist requires strength.” Writing about our existence takes even more.
When we record our struggles and then use the revision process to wrestle with and make new meaning from them, we remind ourselves of what we are capable of. We are not what happened to us; we are the story we create from what happens to us. This process is worthy on its own.
Sometimes, the best way to get in touch with that power is to pause and honor someone else’s.
Every reader at this year’s event touched me deeply, but I want to share Samman Akbarzada’s story with you. Samman is a poet in her early twenties. She published her first book, Life is a Movie, amid the Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan in 2021. Soon after, she fled her country, not knowing where she would go or what she would do. She could’ve lamented her misfortune or seen the venture as a complete failure or proof that her words were insignificant. Maybe there were times when she felt this way as she made her way to the United States. But as she commanded the stage during the Challenge into Change event, she reminded us of what’s important—hope, connections, and “the magic of small kindness.” She offered her story to us as if it were a precious jewel; our job was to simply marvel at its luminescence.
Afterward, when I Googled her, I found this quote online: “Working on projects such as writing novels and poems has become an indispensable part of my life. It is my weapon to support the silenced.”
Our words matter more than we realize, and the Challenge into Change program reminds us that they matter equally. Their model removes barriers to being published rather than erecting them. Every woman who submits something is published. They enter the event knowing they are successful.
Imagine a world like that—one where your success and worth are a foregone conclusion. What would you do if you knew your success was guaranteed? What risks would you take? What doors would you allow yourself to walk through? How tall would you allow yourself to stand? How would you allow yourself to relax in this moment?
We can’t guarantee what the publishing gatekeepers will do, but we can live as if we are that valuable. But doing so requires a counterintuitive approach.
On Saturday, a Qi Gong teacher friend reminded a group I attended that the weeks leading up to the winter solstice are a time to go inward, rest, and gather our strength, so we can ready ourselves for what’s next. That means doing less and figuring out how to coast into your final efforts rather than barreling toward them at full speed. Going slow is a way to embrace your power. It tells your body, mind, and nervous system that you are enough and whatever you get done is enough. While you can strive for more, you don’t have to.
Challenge yourself to let go of something you believe you have to do. As you make more room for simply being, find solace in community, and let someone else’s story open your heart. If you’re not sure how to do this, I’ve got you covered.
Here are three ways to expand or enhance your writing community:
- Do a Google search for upcoming open mics or readings in your area. Pick one. On the day of the event, set the following intention: Let me listen fully and allow something at this event to touch my heart. While you’re there, listen for that one thing, and say hello to those around you. Ask fellow attendees about their experiences.
- Schedule a Zoom group where writers can read their stories. Listen to each one with your entire being, then share what touches you.
- Write an inspirational letter to a random stranger and leave it on a park bench. While this might not feel like a way to build community, it will shift the energy inside you and make you more open, which invites community in.
May the community you build stoke your fires of creativity and encourage you to always write on.
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