Telling Our Truth in Writing with Bella Mahaya Carter
Bella Mahaya Carter is an experienced writer and writing teacher. In this episode she shares how she used the support of an editor to meet that small, 1000 words per month goal as a way to break the enormous task of writing a memoir into small, achievable steps.
In the introduction, inspired by this interview, I talk about thinking outside the box when we are looking for support for our creative projects. And I talk about a subject very close to my heart; the idea that writing and journaling can sometimes be the first time a cult survivor, or survivor of other trauma, tells the truth about their experience. And how powerful that can be.
This episode of Creative Alchemy is supported by the Creative Alchemy journaling handbook.
This free ebook guides cult and other trauma survivors into the healthy and healing practice of journaling. With a gentle hand and relying on her decades of writing experience, cult survivor Alexandra Amor encourages readers to develop a journaling practice as part of their healing path.
Click here to get your complimentary copy.
Bella Mahaya Carter is the award-winning author of three books including Where Do You Hang Your Hammock: Finding Peace of Mind While You Write, Publish, and Promote Your Book, a guide for writers.She is currently completing Ripe: A Memoir of the Lives We Carry, which explores intergenerational trauma, creativity, motherhood, and the stories we inherit—and choose to transform.
Her writing has appeared in dozens of literary journals, and her last two books have received five book awards.
Bella is the founder of Write Where You Are writing circles and has been teaching and coaching writers for more than twenty years. Her mission is to help writers explore what they’re carrying so they can write and live with greater truth, agency, and freedom.
Learn more about Bella at BellaMahayaCarter.com
You can listen above, on your favorite podcast app, or watch on YouTube. Notes, links, resources and a full transcript are below.
Show Notes:
Beginning as a dancer and moving into filmmaking and then writing
Discovering Shakespeare in college and falling in love with the musicality of his writing
Starting to write a book about family secrets several decades ago
Writing about what we inherit from family and what we choose to carry forward
Finding the question at the heart of a memoir
Learning to write in micro and flash non-fiction
Using a monthly editorial deadline to support getting a book written
What a story teaches us as we write it
How it’s never too late to begin
Using journaling to access the wise parts of ourselves
How ‘no’ can often just mean ‘not yet’
Why being seen and recognized is an inside job
Why we can begin a creative project before you feel ready
Find the thing that will help you get out of your own way
Resources Mentioned in this Episode
Bella’s writing circles, Write Where You Are
Bella’s Substack, Flying Lessons for Writers
Creative Alchemy journaling handbook
Transcript of Interview
Alexandra: Bella Mahaya Carter, welcome to Creative Alchemy.
Bella: Thank you. It’s great to be here.
Alexandra: Great to have you here.
Give us a little bit about your background, Bella. Maybe your education and your writing background.
Bella: Okay, I’ll start with my education. My post-secondary school education started at the Juilliard School. I was a dancer, and I had a back injury and had to stop dancing, and went to college at Scripps College in Claremont, California, which is a small liberal arts college for women.
After that, I actually went to film school at USC, the School of Cinematic Arts, and I got a master of fine arts degree in filmmaking with an emphasis in screenwriting. I taught in the screenwriting department as a teaching assistant.
10 years went by, and I did a lot of writing, and then I went back to school for another master’s degree in spiritual psychology, and that really changed my life. That work, so that’s my educational. I went to the University of Santa Monica in Santa Monica, so that’s my educational background.
My writing background is-I really didn’t know I was a writer until when I went to Scripps College. Well, I didn’t even know I was a writer then. I was a dancer, and I wasn’t a great reader. I think I had some maybe dyslexia or some kind of neurodivergency, so I wasn’t a reader as a kid, which just makes me so sad even now to this day.
But I discovered Shakespeare in college, and I thought how could somebody write plays in poetry, and I just loved it. I used to listen to the old records while reading my Pelican Shakespeare in the library for hours. I could lose myself just listening to the language and the poetry, and I knew that I loved it. And then I took another class with that same teacher on contemporary women writers, and just loved it, loved it, loved it.
I didn’t know I was a writer yet. I went to film school because I thought, well, my background is dance, and now I’m interested in literature. And I thought, well, maybe combining dance and literature, I could find my way through through movie making. And I was in Los Angeles, but what I discovered in film school, I was one of maybe five women in the program. It was very it was a very male dominated environment, and I thought also I don’t really like Hollywood that much.
So around that time, I stumbled into a creative writing workshop, and I remember that the teacher he was teaching a UCLA extension class. His name was Jack Grapes, and he wrote this incredible poem about menstruation. And he read it, and I thought to myself, any man who could write about menstruation in that way is someone I think I would like to study with. And I studied with Jack for five years, and that was just the beginning of many many years of writing. Haven’t stopped writing since.
Alexandra: Nice. Oh, that’s great. And you’re the author of several books, including a memoir called Raw about. Oh, my mind is going blank. Anxiety.
Bella: Yeah, my three books are right behind me. Secrets of My Sex, is a collection of poems, and there’s Raw, My Journey from Anxiety to Joy. And there’s Where Do you Hang Your Hammock? Finding peace of mind while you write, publish, and promote your book.
Alexandra: Right, and we’re going to come back to your writing classes and that kind of thing in just a minute. But I want to start with the project you’ve been working on for the last couple of years, so tell us about that.
Bella: You mean my whole life?
Alexandra: Yes, yes, exactly.
Tell us about that project. Start wherever you want.
Bella: My current project is called Ripe: A Memoir of the Lives We Carry, and I kind of officially started writing it over 35 years ago, and but really there were whispers of family secrets and the rupture that had happened in our family.
My mom was a great researcher, and she always would whisper the family, some of the family stories to me. Not all of them, the rest of them took me years to learn. But this seed was always planted.
My grandfather was a poet and a journalist, so I think it was kind of in my blood. But I wrote this 500-page mess of a manuscript 35 years ago. Didn’t know what to do with it, so I put it away in my file cabinet. And at around that time, I was also thinking about becoming a mother. And really, what the book is about, it’s a memoir about what we inherit and what we choose to carry forward.
I think the question that is at the heart of the memoir for me was, how do I create life without surrendering my own or perpetuating inherited pain? And though I didn’t have the writing skills or the maturity, or the experience, and many other things to to write that that project in my 30s. I discovered about four years ago that I was revisiting that project.
I had discovered the 100 word story format, fell in love with concise forms and real and started mining two manuscripts. I had one was a manuscript about my high risk pregnancy, the other was a manuscript about the ancestor story, and I just started plucking from those manuscripts.
And then after about two years of doing that, I thought I’m going to ask my publisher at She Writes Press, if she thinks this is a viable way to approach a memoir. Because it was in micro and flash stories, so the stories could be anywhere from 50 words to 1000 words. And when I showed it to her, she loved it. She said, “I think this is the future of memoir because we have shorter attention spans. I think that this hybrid form is going to be very, very popular.” So that was in May of 2024, and I’m almost done. Out of the 200 stories, I think I have about eight left to write.
Alexandra: And it sounds like you had a plan, if you know how many stories are left.
What’s that based on?
Bella: Well, actually, I just figured that out today.
Alexandra: Oh, okay.
Bella: I had a rough idea of what material I needed to cover at the end, and I am at the beginning of every month. So at the end of every month, I send my editor at least a minimum of 1000 words, and then I start fresh on the next journey, the next chapter series of chapters.
At the beginning of the month, I’m always like, I’m never going to make my deadline. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but because what happens is I dig into archives. I have family, archives. Last month, I read 32 letters written by my great-grandmother in 1961, and I had to create one composite letter conveying her experience, like a literary piece, rather than just using her letters.
This month, the end of the story is my experience with the repair of the family, and so I actually read yesterday my journal from when I was in Italy in 1994 with my mother, meeting the family and discovering my great-great-grandfather’s diary and other primary source materials. So it wasn’t until this morning, after I read my journal from that trip, and then I was writing in my journal that the structure for the things that I want to cover emerged. And so just today I realized, oh, I have about eight more stories left.
Alexandra: Amazing. So, for our listeners, we should explain this is such a unique project in my mind because you have all this archival material.
Tell our listeners a little bit about your great-grandmother’s letters.
Bella: What happened was in 1918, my great grandfather, who was a doctor, he lived in New Haven, Connecticut. He got the family servant pregnant, and performed an illegal abortion on her, and was arrested, jumped bail, and left like he went to New York and disappeared because he was fugitive. And then various things happened.
His wife divorced him, this was an Italian Catholic family, so divorce was pretty much unheard of and shameful, and people whispered. And after the divorce was granted my grandfather, whose custody had been awarded to my great-grandmother, and very soon after he kidnapped his son, returned to Italy because he was from Italy, and when the authorities and when the authorities caught up with him in Italy. He escaped to Argentina, where he raised his son.
They stayed there for 10 years, on the lam, they were hiding from the law, and it just goes on and on. I thought I was writing the story of the rupture that occurred in our family, but as I started reading letters from my mother, my grandmother, my grandmother’s brother, my great grandfather. Though nobody spoke about what went on, everybody felt the need to write their version of it for posterity.
What I’ve learned over the last maybe eight months is that I’m writing a story not only of rupture, but of repair, because only half the story is the rupture. The other half the story is how the family found its way back together
Alexandra: Wow!
You mentioned there that one of themes of the book is whether or not we carry trauma forward.
Bella: Well, this is why you know I had originally in my 30s written two books. One was a family story. One was my pregnancy story, and it was really an exploration of you know trying to like how do I maintain my identity as a person, as a creative artist, and then also be a mom. I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t see that model well.
I shouldn’t say I didn’t see it modeled. I did see it modeled, but I was really worried about it. I was like, “How am I going to do that? And how am I going to not pass on the pain that I felt, even though I couldn’t really at that time articulate what the pain was. I just knew it was painful to be alive, and do I really want my child to experience that?
It wasn’t until a few years ago that when I started plucking stories from both manuscripts that I realized, oh wow, this should be a braided narrative. These two books, and I had written like I was a very inexperienced writer, so the manuscripts were a mess. They were kitchen sinks. They had some overlapping stories and stuff. So I just realized, oh, I could braid these two narratives, like because they’re commenting on each other.
One is the story of being afraid to get pregnant, and then finally deciding to get pregnant, and then realizing, and for three years I couldn’t get pregnant, and then finally getting pregnant and having the doctor call it a geriatric pregnancy because I was 36. Then so much of it was about claiming agency over my own life and my own experience because four months, five months into the pregnancy, I just felt like I was like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
I felt like I had no choice about how things were done, and I thought, you know what? I want to have a natural childbirth. I don’t want I don’t want this. And but unfortunately, my insurance company said you have a pre-existing condition, pregnancy. You can’t do that, but I did do it. I did do it, and I practiced throughout the pregnancy, having some agency over that experience while I was flashing back to the ancestral story as it was unfolding.
Alexandra: Amazing, and so tell us a little bit about the challenges you’ve encountered, and I think you’ve touched on this already.
You tried writing the book 35 years ago. That was maybe one challenge. What have the others been?
Bella: Oh, there have been so many challenges. I think the biggest challenge was me, because I just always felt like I wasn’t good enough. And one component of the book that I haven’t mentioned is the repercussions that my great-grandmother’s experience had on my parents’ lives, or had on these succeeding generations.
My grandmother also had a very turbulent relationship. My mother was molested by her father when she was a child. My mother married a man who was abusive. There were just ripples of this problem that went all the way down through the generations up until my generation.
Part of what I learned as a small child, who was beaten sometimes, was I’m bad, and I think I learned very early on to to be an excellent people pleaser, and to not really listen to myself so much as to just pay attention, to read the room, figure out what you need to do, to so that the shit doesn’t hit the fan. I think that kind of spilled into my writing with questions like, “Who do you think you are? What makes you think you can be a writer?”
I think that was the hardest thing, and the reason why I said my U.S.M. education in spiritual psychology was the most profound for me was, I mean, it was all profound, but that was particularly profound. I entered that at the age of 40 something, early 40s, thinking that I had failed, that my life was a failure because I had five manuscripts in my file cabinet that hadn’t gone anywhere. I just thought, wow! Like, if I don’t, I’m not sure what I.
I remember when I had to stop dancing, and my identity was so tied up with being a dancer. It was like, well, if I’m not a dancer, who am I? And it took me some years, and then I glommed onto this idea that I’m a writer. But I think what I learned in that program is that we are not what we do. We are spiritual beings having a human experience, and there’s no such thing as failure. There are only opportunities for growth.
Alexandra: Oh, nicely said. I imagine that feelings come up as you’re reading this archival material that you’ve got.
Is there some processing that goes on?
Bella: Absolutely. It’s funny because just today I had a little moment with my husband, a little moment of conflict as I mentioned something about the pain. His immediate response was, oh, but there was lots of love too, and I said no, no, no, you don’t understand. We have to make space for the pain. We have to allow it. We have to acknowledge the pain.
Part of the interesting thing about the story is that it wasn’t spoken. No one talked about it. It wasn’t acknowledged. The pain, the harm that was done was not acknowledged, so it’s not like I want to harp on the pain because it was a ton of creativity and love and music and joy, but to not acknowledge the pain perpetuates it.
Alexandra: Have you specifically ever bumped into things like has it brought up big feelings for you?
Bella: I have all sorts of ways of dealing with big feelings. I mean, I work in my journal, and I I hesitate to say I work in my journal. I would rather say I listen in my journal, and the force that I listen to that I call my wise self. When I show up there, I get guidance from a source that is greater than me.
That is not the little complaining, worried person that I can be. It’s an eternal presence that resides within us all. I believe.
I also move. I’m still a dancer, even though I don’t dance in that way. I like to move. I like to put on music. I like to move my body and let my body. I just listen with my body, and then I’ll just move. I’ll try to move energy and release stuff that’s in my body that I can feel in my body. And I practice yoga, and I do Reiki, and I do massages. Like I have a you know practices that I engage in regularly to help move them.
Alexandra: Nice. And so going back to this, the wise self that you talk to in your journal, can you take us through what that looks like?
What do you do to access that part of yourself?
Bella: I just sit down with my journal. I just show up, and then I just start complaining, and then eventually the wise self shows up. It doesn’t take long, and then the wise self will start speaking in the second person. I’ve been complaining in the first person, and the wise person will say, “Bella, you just relax, slow down. It’s okay. Like give yourself a break. You don’t have to be perfect. Look at what you’ve been dealing with. You’ve been traveling with your mother in Italy, and she can be very challenging sometimes. And you know, I’m sure you’re just as challenging to her. You know, just like chill.”
I’ll realize, oh yeah, I’m reminded. And then, and if I have questions, I’ll ask questions. For a long time, I did left-handed writing because I was forced to slow down when I wrote with my left hand, non-dominant handwriting, because that way I was forced to slow down and listen.
But I ask a lot of questions and I just try to listen and it’s just there always for all of us. But I think most of us don’t know that it’s there. We don’t know that we can access this wisdom within, and that it is there, and it does guide us, and it doesn’t care about the things that we think are such big deals in our lives. I didn’t get what I wanted. It’s something much larger. And knowing that’s there just means that I’m kind of okay no matter what.
Alexandra: I love that. While writing this big project, this family history interwoven with your pregnancy:
Have you ever had any moments where you hit the wall, didn’t know where to go or what to do next?
Bella: Yeah, I mean, when I wrote the pregnancy book? Oh my gosh, I was so naive. I can remember I actually sent it out to some agents, just the pregnancy book, and I mean, it was a first draft. It wasn’t even a first draft. I remember it got returned to me, and it would sit on my step, and I would walk in my gate, and I would be like, “I hope nobody sees this. I hope nobody knows that I’m a failed writer.”
I felt so much shame around it, but I didn’t have any idea that there were certain prerequisites that I had to fulfill in order to complete a project of this scope. And so I thought I was failing, failing, failing, but in fact, when I read, I actually have it right here on my desk. This was my journal from when I was in Italy. It says summer 1994. I had made a paper collage over it, and as I was reading yesterday, the paper just was it’s so old it was just peeling off. So I just had to peel it all off and took pictures of it.
It wasn’t, “No, you’re not good enough.” It was, “Not yet”, right? Not yet. And it’s and the number of not yets. Like I didn’t know they were not yets. I just thought it was no, no, no. You suck. You’re not good enough. Why are you trying? I didn’t know that.
I mean, I knew I was on my path, but I kind of hoped that I could gain some recognition or be seen. What I realized is being seen and getting recognition, it’s an inside job, because you never know where your writing is going to go. And there’s like I don’t know a million books, more than a million books published every day in America.
My joy right now is working on this project, and I almost don’t want it to end because I know what comes next. I know then it’s okay, publishing decisions and marketing and all that publicity, and I’m loving the writing so much. I’m loving the discovery, and I’m also feeling like I got to be with my mom in Rome in 1948, and my grandmother in 1950. I feel like I’m knowing parts of my ancestors that I never knew before, and so I feel just so rich. That’s the reason. I mean, that’s substantial. I don’t think anything that could happen after I’m done writing this could be as profound as that. That’s the gift.
Alexandra: I was just going to say, that is such a gift. That’s amazing. One of the things that I really admire about you because we’re. For the listeners, we’re in a mastermind group together, and we have been for six or seven years, maybe now at this point.
Is that how you have held this project so lightly? It seems to me, and have let it evolve as it wanted to. I guess one of the things that I saw was you mentioned writing in the micro and flash fiction, and I at the time I thought
Bella: It’s nonfiction.
Alexandra: Sorry nonfiction. You started to learn about that format, and then and then realized that was the direction that you wanted to take for the book. And this question might be a little bit vague:
Can you talk about the balance between having a clear vision for a project and also letting it evolve if it wants to.
Bella: Here’s what I’ve learned about. I love this question, by the way. Here’s what I’ve learned: is that you must begin before you feel ready.
Alexandra: Ah, yes.
Bella: Every month for the last two, well, maybe the whole time I’ve been working with my editor, which is since 2024. No, 2022. So it’s been four years I’ve been working on this with her. Every time at the beginning of a new month, when I go back to my archives and I’m like, I have a general idea where, like just today, I didn’t know. I didn’t have the outline. I didn’t have a clear outline to the end of the ancestral story. I wrote the pregnancy story some time ago. I’ve been working on the ancestral story, and then when it’s done, I’ll weave them.
But what I’ve learned is that the thing about the creative process is that you just have to have faith that even though you don’t know where you’re going or you just have a hazy glimmer of where you might be going, you have to do it anyway. You have to just start.
I always think of that great E. L. Doctorow quote: “writing a novel is like driving on a mountain road at night. You can only see as far as your headlights illuminate.” Same thing with writing. You just look at what’s right in front of you. What’s the next thing that you need to do?
For me yesterday, I wasn’t sure what the next thing was. I was like, oh, the next thing is read your journal from Italy in 1994, and then I did that, and I was like, oh my god! And then it was like, what’s the next thing?
I got to write about this in my journal. I didn’t know this morning when I wrote in my journal that the outline for the rest of the ancestral story would emerge, I had no idea. So I never know, really. Even when I work with outlines, like for Raw, My Journey from Anxiety to Joy, I remember when I first started that project, my editor wanted me to outline it, and I thought, okay, I was pretty clear. Raw is divided into three sections: body, mind, and spirit.
I pretty much knew the body story and I knew the mind story. But what I didn’t know was that I hadn’t yet lived the spirit story. That spiritual stuff was going to come and hit the fan while I was working, so I fudged it in the outline, and I did the best I could. And then, as I was writing, actually in the middle of that project, we had five family deaths in three years, and I was the executor of my mom’s estate, and it was contentious.
I developed an anxiety disorder, and I was scared to leave my house. I really didn’t know that I had kind of been suffering with the low-grade anxiety for most of my life until it exploded and became a full-on disorder that made me dysfunctional.
In that time, I also had some mystical experiences that showed me who I really am and what really matters. Once I lived through that, I completely revised my outline for the last section of the book.
People say, are you a plotter or a panster? Do you plot an outline or do you just fly by the seat of your pants? And I would say that I do both. I really love structure, but I also like to wander, and I think both for me, my writing is served both by wandering and also figuring out what the structure is. And usually, after a while, the structure just emerges, like it did this morning when I was working in my journal.
Alexandra: So well said, and I love that. Begin almost before you’re ready.
Bella: Just begin before you’re ready.
Alexandra: Yes, exactly.
Bella: And just have faith. Just trust the process. I tell this to my students all the time. Whatever the big trick is to get out of your own way, so that what wants to come through you is free to come through you. That’s the trick, and to not worry so much about what it is because eventually it will announce itself.
This project announced itself two years ago when I realized, huh, I’ve been pulling stories from both of these manuscripts. I wonder if I could combine these these two manuscripts and make a one one manuscript instead of like two horribly long kitchen sink manuscripts that meander in every which direction. What if I just plucked and chiseled and polished each story presented it that way? It’s a mosaic, and it’s beautiful because each story stands on its own and has its own narrative. But then it’s also part of a larger story.
Alexandra: I think this project is such a good example of the right time and place. 35 years ago, obviously, you weren’t the writer that you are now, and you hadn’t learned all the things that you’ve learned now at this point in your life. I think it’s so great that we can come back to these things.
If it’s not the right time now, then it’ll be the right time later.
Bella: Maybe or maybe not. I’m just reading this book by Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew. I don’t know if you know her. She’s a wonderful writer. It’s called. It’s something about. I meant to bring it with me and have it here for the interview, but because I knew I knew it was going to come up because I’ve been reading it. It’s on my mind.
She says that it’s valuable to write even if you don’t want to publish. So even if I hadn’t picked up this manuscript, working on it the way I did for a decade, I worked on it for a decade in my 30s. That changed me. That grew me. So even if we don’t publish our work, it doesn’t make the writing any less valuable.
Alexandra: I totally agree. Yes, because as you say, and I believe this too, it’s what’s happening to us as we’re writing it that actually matters. The end result is a nice cherry on top, but what really matters is what happens to us.
Bella: At the end of the day, the writing writes us.
That’s true of dance too. When I dance, the dancing is dancing me.
Alexandra: Nice. Oh, that’s lovely. So that’s a great segue. You are a writing teacher, and you’ve been doing that for a while.
What have you noticed about the healing that takes place with your students when they write?
Bella: Okay, well, first let’s just break that up into two pieces. Maybe the first piece is I thought you were going to ask me what do you notice in your students because you’re a writing teacher. What do you notice in your students, just in a more general way? Because we’ll get to the healing. That’s part B of the question.
Part A of the question is the first thing that I notice is that most people don’t recognize their own gifts, and most people engaged in a creative endeavor that involves vulnerability and self-expression, or that involves self-expression which necessitates vulnerability, they need to feel safe. They need to understand that it’s a sacred process, and they need to be held and supported and loved. Period. That’s the first thing.
In terms of growth as a writer, anytime anybody wants critical feedback, they can receive that, but only if they ask for it. And there’s all kinds. There’s many ways to learn. I personally don’t think that heavy criticism is the best way to teach people how to learn how to write. I think people need to feel free and unencumbered and celebrated.
So when that happens, I’m segueing to part B. When that happens, people realize that all the things that they thought they couldn’t say, they can say. And when that happens, people are starting to connect with the divine eternal wisdom that they have inside of themselves, and that is healing because that divine eternal wisdom knows a lot more than we do, and that’s what I mean when I say get out of your own. I help people get out of their own way.
Alexandra: What are some ways that you do that?
Bella: I do that by setting ground rules, such as when someone’s done reading, I’m going to ask the group, “What did you appreciate about what you heard?” You’re only allowed to say what you appreciated. You’re not allowed to make suggestions for improvement. You’re not allowed to say parts that were confusing. You’re not allowed to make any helpful comments. You’re only allowed to say what you appreciated about what you heard.
They’re small groups, anywhere from six to eight people in a group, and then usually every person in the group gets a chance to say what they appreciated, and that creates trust in the group. It’s not like oh that person didn’t speak. No, it’s like everybody says what they appreciated, and you can always find something to appreciate, even from the most beginning writer. There’s always something to appreciate, so I cultivate in my students an ear for listening for what they appreciate.
Then I ask the writer, “Do you have any questions? And then the writer can say, “Oh, you know, did it make sense when I did X, Y, and Z, or was it confusing when I spoke about this, or do you have any suggestions for improving the language?” Alot of times people just say no, I’m good, and that’s fine, and they learn from each other, they learn from the conversations, and it’s a powerful environment.
It’s called Write Where You Are, and I’ve been teaching for over 20 years and have helped hundreds of writers, and many of them have gone on to publish books and become authors and healers and leaders in their communities.
I will say this about that work. One time I was having a conversation with this writer. I think this was before I became a writing teacher and coach. I thought I had to wait till I had a book published before I could teach writing. Which now that I look back, I didn’t need to do that. I could have still taught writing. I waited longer than I needed to, but this woman said to me, I’ll never forget. She said, “You, madam, are a natural born coach”.
I remember thinking, “Huh”, and that was years before I became one. I think the reason is I see, I do see the sort of divine spark in everybody that I work with, and unlike writing, which was a the skill, the craft of writing took me my whole life to to to practice and learn. I do have a God given gift, or I don’t know if you want to use the word God, but I do have a gift that comes to me from the universe that just I understand what people need.
Maybe it’s because I did live in that household that was violent and difficult, and in order to stay alive, I had to be really perceptive about what was going on. So, I’m sensitive and intuitive, and I can tell what each person needs, and what each person needs is different from what another person needs, and I just tune into that.
This is the reason why I don’t write in my writing circles myself. I know the Amherst method says you’ve got to show your students you’re one of them, you’re just like them, you’re a writer too. But I find that my writer self is too insecure. I can’t focus on my writer. I can’t show up as my writer self and then also do this thing with where I tune into people and guide them. To me, those are just two different lives. So I don’t write with my students. I focus all my attention on their growth and upliftment.
Alexandra: I love the point you brought up there that writing is an opportunity to tell the truth.
I’m sure you encounter that sometimes it’s the first time a person has told the truth about an experience that they’ve had.
Bella: Yeah, and many people have been ghosted. Many people-is that the right word? Ghosted. I feel like that. I’m wondering if that’s the right word. Well, it doesn’t matter. Many people show up having no idea, even what their truth is.
Alexandra: Yes.
Even just writing in a journal is an opportunity to tell the truth.
Bella: And an opportunity to tell the truth and to connect with the small quiet voice within, which is the voice of wisdom, and many people once they come to the circles, they stay. They stay for a long time. There’s one every eight weeks. I have a student who’s been with me for 10 years. I have students who’ve been with me three years, five years.
I think people are hungry for the freedom of a of a small supportive community that can hold space for them while they explore whatever it is they need to explore on the page.
Alexandra: I’m just having a huge epiphany right now while we’re talking about how writing is sometimes the first time a person will slow down enough, and tell the truth, even if it’s just to themselves about an experience that they’ve had. And how valuable that’s been in my life and in others’ lives that I’ve seen, and what a gift that you are able to support people to do that.
Bella: Yeah, lovely. I feel like actually the gift was given to me, and I think the best kind of gifts are the ones that energetically keep moving.
Alexandra: Yes, nicely said.
Speaking of your writing circles, tell us where we can find out more about you and your work.
Bella: My website is bellamahaya carter.com, and it has my writing there, my publications, my writing circles, coaching information. It’s all there.
I also write a monthly Substack newsletter called Flying Lessons for Writers, and I try each month to write something that I feel very connected to that I think will inspire other writers to fly both on the page and in their lives, because I am interested very much in writing. I love writing and I love the craft of writing and I love to help people become better writers and I’m constantly trying myself to become a better writer and I’m equally fascinated in becoming as large and authentic a human being as possible, and I’m equally interested in facilitating that process in others through the medium of writing.
Alexandra: Great, awesome. I will put links to all those things in the show notes so people can find you and your work. This has been a real pleasure, Bella.
Is there anything else you wanted to share before we wrap up?
Bella: Ah, let’s see. Gosh, this time went fast.
I don’t think so. I guess I just want to say thank you for having me on your show. I’m excited to watch all of your interviews.
Alexandra: Well, thank you so much. I appreciate that. All right. Well, take care, and I will see you soon.
Bella: All right. Take care.
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