The following comes from the 30 days of prompts I use for my Finding Your Arc eCourse. I couldn't help but share. There's something about blurting—about getting everything out—that gets me to just breathe and remember.
Close your eyes.
No really. Close them. For at least five minutes. I'll wait.
What is it you hear? Write it down. All of it. No really. I'll wait again.
The first time I did this, I was scared as hell to begin. It's a little bit Natalie Goldberg, a little bit Julia Cameron, but a whole lot of you. My mentor calls them soul-blurts. When we stop to listen to what's really being whispered in those deep spaces of our hearts. And if you're anything like me, thinking of listening to those voices inside, even if you know they're true, can be earth-shattering in the best way possible.
Think of your dream. Where you feel led, what lights you up, what makes you come alive? When you think of this, what words immediately come to mind? What phrases burn against your skin? This isn't time for editing. Don't worry about perfection here. You're wanting the grit—the core—the never been seen stuff.
My soul blurts?
I'm tired. I'm learning that the exhaustion is a season just like any other and that it's the pause that causes me to breathe—to remember the natural ways our bodies get us to stop and focus and wait...
...and I could go on, but then it wouldn't really be soul blurts because the most important piece of venting those inside spaces?
Keeping them for you.
This is no inspirational-hope-you-post-it-to-your-blog type of stuff. This is your guts. Your innards. The messy bits. And while eventually there may be time and space to wade through them and pick the words to share later, now these words are for you.