Spirit of the Written Word Blog

Spirit of the Written Word is a weekly writing group for people impacted by cancer. By sharing our writing through this blog, we invite you into what for many of us is a healing process. Writing in a small group setting like this can be restorative—a way to release challenging emotions or experiences onto the page and transform them. We are new and longtime writers at various stages of the cancer journey: newly diagnosed, in treatment, longer term survivors, and caregivers.

Learn more about Spirit of the Written Word and other ongoing weekly program offerings designed to support the body, mind, and spirit at Cancer Connection.

It is prohibited to copy any writings without permission, or to use for training AI technologies. Copyrights remain with each writer.

Holly Mott 7/14/26 Holly Mott 7/14/26

Oh, Mary.

by Holly Mott

Oh, Mary. I know you mean all the best in asking what I plan to do with my one wild and precious life. Today however, your words feel like a provocation. My resilience has been waning you see. My optimism has been feeling a little less accessible of late.

Holly Mott 7/3/26 Holly Mott 7/3/26

Befriending All of Me: Including my Mitochondria

by J Lucier, Windhorse

What a strange and intriguing word—mitochondria. Does it name a sea creature living on the bottom of the ocean? Is it an exotic animal from Tanzania? Is it related to muscles or other body parts?

Holly Mott 6/21/26 Holly Mott 6/21/26

OUR KIND

by Fred Pelka

see each face as a landing field of time
and each head of hair as a map of shifting wind.

Holly Mott 6/14/26 Holly Mott 6/14/26

Am I telling you anything about my cancer?

by John Bos

It is October 5, 2004 and I am alive. I rejoice in the company of other singers of life’s songs even though that rejoicing includes tears for those no longer singing.

Holly Mott 6/1/26 Holly Mott 6/1/26

The Healing Power of Writing

by Pam Roberts

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993, I happened to be a member of a writing group. Every Tuesday evening, I kissed my kids good night and drove up the hill to the home of the facilitator, Genie Zeiger.