Spiritual Practices Part 4

July 24, 2026

Spiritual Practice Part 4: Meditative Writing

When I was a college student, I began journaling about my travels. Later, my journaling expanded into daily dream work. Over time, this work became something more essential: a way of reflecting on my life, my past, my inner world, and the outer world. It is a way to consciously be in my true nature. 

Looking back, I see that my daily writing gradually evolved into a spiritual practice. I do not write from a trance, or focused thinking, but often from a deep and more spacious state of consciousness. It is a meditative state — one in which the mind becomes less active, less driven, less certain of itself. In that state, writing does not feel forced. It feels received. So, for me, writing can come out of meditation. And when it does, it becomes a spiritual practice.

As we reflected earlier this week, thoughts freed from the ego are less about strategizing, striving, defending, and proving. They arise from a deeper place. In meditative writing, we gain access to these depths — those subterranean levels of the psyche and soul where our truest nature waits to express itself.

When such thoughts emerge, they do more than give us writing material. They show us ourselves. They reveal where we are in the present moment. They help integrate our memories, persona, emotions, experiences, contradictions, longings, wounds, and wisdom into a more whole and conscious life.

This is why many meditation teachers tell us to allow our thoughts to come, but to treat them like boats floating down a river. We do not climb into every boat. We do not chase them, judge them, decorate them, or sink them. We notice them and let them pass. This practice creates spaciousness. And in spaciousness, deeper material can arise.

In meditative writing, thoughts are not simply manufactured by the mind. They are received by the mind from a deeper place — from the soul. In that receptive state, all kinds of material may rise to the surface and find form in prose, poetry, letters, essays, books, reflections, journals, prayers, stories, and even fragments that may not yet have a name.

When we are in contact with our depths, writer’s block becomes less threatening. The depths are never empty. They are a fountain of energies, images, memories, dreams, desires, questions, truths and also mystery. They are the place from which our dreams emerge, where our soul’s sincerest desires take shape, and where our unconscious life waits for consciousness. But this depth is not only beautiful. It is the place of shadow, complexes, grief, fear, unfinished business, and our sacred, silent contracts. It contains the raw material of the soul — the prima materia of our transformation.

The work of meditative writing is to bring this material into conscious life with honesty, self-compassion, and reverence. We do not write only to produce something polished. We write to listen. We write to discover. We write to participate in our own unfolding. And if that also helps someone else, then it is a wonderful contribution. 

Truth is, the final written product may be wonderful, or it may not. It may reveal much, contribute to the body of spiritual thought, open a door for someone else, or give us tremendous insight. Or it may simply be a page of words that seems to lead nowhere — at least for now. But even then, something has happened.

The beauty of writing as a meditative spiritual practice is this: we learn to think from another state of consciousness. We learn to be in another state of consciousness. We come to know ourselves beneath the surface. We grow more intimate with the movements of the soul.

Spiritual Practice

Enter meditation first through prayer and relaxation, then follow your breath into the altered state itself. Once there, notice the thoughts. As they grow deeper and richer, take notice and after about 15 minutes, gently open your eyes, stay in your present condition, and begin writing. 

Inquiry

What are some reasons why you may have had writer’s block? 

Prayer

Dear God, Be by my side as I go into the depths of my own being.

Amen