Autobiography of a Little Boy
The Memo for April 25, 2025
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“Truth is within you. It is never any farther away than your beating heart. You don’t have to ‘think’ about it or go outside searching for it. You always contain it.”
― Lucia Capacchione, Ph.D. (written in crayon with her non-dominant hand)
I started a new project recently. I feel excited about it, and look forward to sharing it here. Before I do that, I should explain the genesis of its foundational idea, and how that idea took shape.
A couple weeks ago, I met with a new therapist. For some time, I was looking for the right one. I ultimately decided to reach out to a friend and colleague who is seasoned and absolutely brilliant.
Over the years, we’ve gotten to know one another casually. Our kids played together some. We spent time together. I know her well enough to know I trust and respect her. I didn’t want to bother trying to develop a therapeutic relationship with someone, only to realize a couple months and hundreds of dollars in that they’re just another therapist. But I knew, if I invested time in telling her my story, I would be glad I did.
So we met virtually on a Tuesday afternoon and I spilled my guts to her over Zoom. I spoke for the entire hour. She stopped me when our time was up. I left that meeting knowing I only divulged about half of the story so far. I felt tender. I felt overwhelmed.
My God, I thought, I have so much shit to work through. Then, a little later, that thought led me to another. It might have made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. I thought, I should probably just write all this down.
A few days ago, I was in a room full of people who were discussing the process of connecting with one’s inner child by journaling with their non-dominant hand. It occurred to me that writing my life story with my non-dominant hand would not only benefit me, using this unique approach might yield results people are interested in reading about.
So, I picked up a big newsprint pad the next evening from what passes for an art supplies store in my town. The following morning, I took out the crayons, I got down on the floor, and I started writing.
I first learned about the practice of journaling with your non-dominant hand around 2003. The facility where I worked at the time hosted an experiential workshop with the author, psychologist, and art therapist Lucia Capacchione. I sat in and participated in the exercises. Lucia was best known for her book, Recovery of Your Inner Child, but she was the best-selling author of many books published in many different languages.
Merriam-Webster defines the inner child as follows: “the childlike usually hidden part of a person's personality that is characterized by playfulness, spontaneity, and creativity usually accompanied by anger, hurt, and fear attributable to childhood experiences.”
When we hear people refer to “inner-child work,” it’s fair to say they are referring to Lucia’s work. She didn’t coin the term inner child, but she might as well have.
In 1988, after studying the topic for decades, Lucia published The Power of Your Other Hand: Unlock Creativity and Inner Wisdom Through the Right Side of Your Brain. As the title implies, it explores the connection between the use of one’s non-dominant hand and the right side of their brain. Simply put, we associate the left side of the brain with facts, logic, and mathematics, and we associate the right side of the brain with creativity, intuition, and emotions.
Being right-handed, I first tried journaling with my left hand in that workshop with Lucia. Since then, I have repeatedly used it as a therapeutic tool in my own healing, and I have suggested it to others many times.
I believe, until we fully experience them, our emotions stay with us. We carry them in our bodies. Having grown up in this society, where both experiencing and expressing our emotions are discouraged, I recognized about a decade ago that I was carrying a significant amount of sadness.
Once I realized this, I began developing a deeper awareness of my emotional experience. When I found myself feeling overwhelmed, overcome with grief, especially anxious for no apparent reason, or just feeling stuck, I began setting aside time to journal with my left hand. Doing that induced the tears I needed to shed.
After occasionally journaling this way for several months, it occurred to me one day that I no longer felt as though I was living under a dark cloud, like I did sometimes before. I wasn’t having trouble getting myself out of bed anymore. The existential dread that visited me sporadically stopped coming around. I no longer felt like I was drowning in sadness for reasons I couldn’t understand.
It worked.
For several days now, I’ve begun my morning on the floor in my office. I opened the box of crayons each day, chose a color, and started writing.
The last installment of The Memo began with a quote that reads, in part, “everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten. Then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away. . . Being suddenly hit years later with the 'creative bug' is just a wee voice telling you, 'I'd like my crayons back, please.’”
I took my crayons back a long time ago. I’m happy to put them to use, in a literal sense, with this project.
Just how I’ll share this, I haven’t yet decided.
Stay tuned.
Inner Child (noun)
the childlike usually hidden part of a person's personality that is characterized by playfulness, spontaneity, and creativity usually accompanied by anger, hurt, and fear attributable to childhood experiences
Journaling Prompt for April 25, 2025
What was an experience you had at puberty that you relate to getting your crayons taken away? Have you taken your crayons back? If not , how can you?
Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment, or let me know who and where you are.
Best,
I would one hundred percent read a memoir of yours. I’ve been toying with the idea, myself.
This is a very interesting concept. Does it need to be done with crayons? Do you try to get in touch with your inner child while you’re writing? Or are you just doing generic journaling?