The Book of Alchemy: A Creative Practice for an Inspired Life

“I have long believed that journaling allows you to alchemize isolation into creative solitude. As it happens, reading also enacts that shift. Rather than feeling trapped and alone with your thoughts, you’re in conversation. You’ve got company.”

Jaouad reflects on the transformative power of writing and journaling; in doing so, she touches on the process of reflection, where one is in conversation with one’s thoughts rather than feeling overwhelmed by them. Finding Resilience Through Recollection and Reflection is a central theme in the book, and from the very outset Jaouad stresses the power of reflection.

“Journaling as a process is utterly alchemizing, with practical applications in every area of one’s life and work. The journal is like a chrysalis: the container of your goopiest, most unformed self. It’s a rare space, in this age of hypercurated personas, where you can share your most unedited thoughts, where you can sort through the raw material of your life. Day by day, page by page, you uncover the answers that are already inside of you, and you begin to transform.”

Jaouad reflects on how the process of alchemy works in the context of journaling and writing, invoking The Cathartic and Transformative Quality of Creativity. The idea of alchemy is an ever-present one in the book, one that informs its purpose and direction. Alchemy through creativity is what Jaouad is ultimately trying to offer her readers, and the term and idea both recur throughout the book, also forming the title.

“I don’t believe going through something hard makes us wiser or stronger or braver by default. But the transitional moments in our lives offer the possibility for a new beginning.”

Jaouad reflects on how challenge alone cannot lead to wisdom, but it offers the possibility of learning. Over the course of the book, she reveals, along with the help of the other contributors, how this possibility is realized through Finding Resilience Through Recollection and Reflection. This is what leads to building resilience and allowing one to move forward with wisdom.

“What usually makes it into our memory banks are the bigger things—the zeniths or the nadirs—so it’s a kind of luxury to recall those sweet small moments, the ones that fade from view with the passage of time.”

Jaouad reflects on the nature of memory. This is an important aspect she touches upon, as although the bigger moments are remembered, the smaller ones are equally powerful in shaping one’s world view and sense of self. To untangle the threads that make up one’s psyche, remembering is an important tool; thus, any practice that allows one to archive and return to different moments of one’s life is a helpful one, journaling being an example.

“Our memories are made of not only our direct experiences, but also the experiences of others. They arise and exist in conversation, an ever-evolving dialogue.”

Again, reflecting on the nature of memory, Jaouad reflects on how it is shaped in concert with those around us. While reflection is necessary for alchemy, it cannot take place without remembering or recollection itself, which in itself can be a powerful force that shapes the narrative. This once again speaks to Finding Resilience Through Recollection and Reflection.

“Living in fear had become more terrifying than confronting it. The line that comes to mind is one attributed to Anaïs Nin: ‘And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’”

In a chapter that explores fear, Jaouad reflects on how living in fear had eventually become more painful for her than facing the fear itself. This is an idea that recurs throughout others’ reflections as well—that often in life, the things that seem terrifying are less so when faced head-on. The act of confronting a fear over and over again eventually takes away its sting while building resilience simultaneously.

“But each day, I got stronger, and I began to see the rewards. I realized that the more I ran away from my fear, the bigger and more looming it became. Yet if I confronted the fear, it lost its power. As the fear evaporated, other feelings materialized in its place—feelings like wonder and curiosity.”

As Jaouad reflects on the evaporation of fear in its constant confrontation, she also touches upon what rushes in to replace it. In constantly engaging with the unknown, what also emerges is the experience of discovery, which can ultimately rewire one to seek out the new in curiosity rather than avoid it in fear. This is what helps one feel more comfortable with ambiguity and the in-between—the assurance that what is unknown also leaves space for new learning.

“I’ve heard it said that depression is an overfixation on the past and anxiety is an overfixation on the future. If that’s the case, seeing is a bulwark against both, as it’s a fixation on the now.”

Jaouad explores the power of attention in a chapter dedicated to “seeing,” noting how it can help anchor one to the present in a way that dissipates worry and fear. This is an essential pillar for creativity, for a mind that is constantly beset with worry is in a state of survival and preservation, not creation. When one is able to pay attention to nothing but the present moment, emptied of all anxiety, the mind is free enough to allow the imagination to wander and inspiration to arrive.

“Every time I moved, I had to rearrange my inner furniture to make sense of my new surroundings. I put grief further in the back corner, then eventually moved it up to the attic. I plastered the walls with a thin facade of courage and hope for everyone to see.”

Azita Ardakani, one of the contributors to the chapter on “seeing,” validates the idea offered in the preceding quote. She describes the frustration and sense of uprootedness she experienced growing up from constantly having to move home. What helps her feel more settled and resilient is noticing a cluster of dandelions growing out of the sidewalk that remind her that she, too, can thrive anywhere. When she notices the moment with all of her attention, nature provides an answer.

“But what I want to speak to transcends the happily-ever-after fairy-tale notions of romantic love. What I want to invoke is the radical power of seeing, understanding, and showing up for another human.”

Jaouad dedicates a chapter to love, but clarifies from the outset that she means love as affection and understanding for another human being, and not a particular type like romantic or filial. In this context, she shares her experience of an intense friendship with another cancer patient, Anjali, highlighting The Power of Community in Challenging Times.

“It might also have something to do with the inherent cruelty of a capitalistic system that reduces everyone’s value to what they can produce, what they possess, and how much status they hold. This is fundamentally inhumane, and it makes people sick with shame and lack.”

Elizabeth Gilbert, one of the contributors to the chapter on love, reflects on where the phenomenon of self-hatred stems from, particularly in the Western capitalistic world. By reframing one’s self worth as inherent rather than tied to output, she invites the reader to indulge in a love that is compassionate towards oneself, and liberating in its acceptance.

“When our appearance doesn’t sync up with the idealized notions, it’s easy to default to binaries. As we do with sick and healthy, as with joy and sorrow, we sort our body parts and features and our entire selves into ‘beautiful’ and ‘ugly.’ Yet these categories are not objective truths—in fact, they’re not objectively anything.”

Jaouad reflects on our relationships with our bodies, a complicated dynamic in a society that worships a certain ideal while denigrating all other options. Jaouad’s observations highlights how arbitrary such a binary is, based on social construct and shifting perception rather than fact; such an insight is aimed at helping shift one’s relationship with one’s body for the better.

“While these moments of bodily consideration haven’t exorcised the pain and toxicity from my self-view, they’ve given me the power to name and explore my discomfort more fully. They’ve illuminated how my relationship to my body affects the way I move and exist in the world, the way I connect with others, and my expectations for intimacy and acceptance.”

Natasha Yglesias, a contributor to the chapter on the body, describes how she uses her insecurities about her own body as creative material, bringing to life characters with personalities composed of these traits. This process not only allows Yglesias to sublimate some of her negative self-perceptions in productive ways, but also allows her distance from her ideas to examine and process them in time. This approach, besides speaking to the relationship with the body, also highlights The Cathartic and Transformative Quality of Creativity.

“But as heartbreaking as it all was, I didn’t feel rudderless like I did in my twenties when I first got sick. In fact, it was the opposite. Though my second bone marrow transplant was in many ways harder, healing came easier—because I knew myself and what I needed. Because as much as I had always wanted to be firmly settled, I learned to be at home in the in-between.”

Jaouad describes learning about a relapse and having to pack up and change her life just a year after she found her dream home and was building her dream life. A product of clarity derived from months of journaling about this life,  Jaouad nevertheless is left far less adrift by this sudden change, simply because having spent so much time journaling about the things she wanted had given her two things: Clarity about what was important, and insight into the value of rebuilding. This speaks to The Cathartic and Transformative Quality of Creativity.

“The reality is they probably didn’t know much. They’d simply inherited a story from their parents that was validated by their peers. They’d been told who to hate. This, I told myself, was not the story I was going to tell my son of where he came from. And as an artist, it was perhaps my biggest epiphany—that the most powerful thing we can do as civilized human beings is change the story. We can always, always, change the story.”

Oliver Jeffers, one of the contributors to the chapter on rebuilding, reflects on the nature of an inherited story and the power that one has to change it, if it no longer serves one well. A reflection that arises in the context of Jeffers’s own experience with Irish nationalism having grown up in Belfast, Jeffers’s attempt at rebuilding is to invite the reader to examine and reframe inherited stories in their own lives. His prompt reminds the reader of the scale of impact creativity can have through the process of transformation.

“I love the idea that you can reawaken dormant parts of yourself, parts that maybe you didn’t even know were there. It reminds me that it’s never too late to alter the course of your becoming.”

Jaouad explores the ego in the context of creativity, recounting stories of people who came into a creative practice late in life and how they are a reminder that growth and evolution are constant. This is an important reminder that also helps build resilience: When one is armed with the knowledge that nothing is fixed and eternal, it becomes easier to face the unknown, as one can rely on one’s inherent capability to adapt and learn.

“It’s how, rather than experiencing a simple pleasure, we become overly attached to it, then are tormented by desire and craving. It’s when we think something will annihilate us—be it pain or unwanted change or abject failure—so we need to avoid it at all costs.”

Jaouad reflects on the Buddhist wisdom about how attachment and aversion are two sides of the same coin. This is the thinking that leads her to suggest that one engage in a creative practice for its own sake—without attachment to the process or the product, and so one will feel no aversion to it even if it fails to match up to an ideal. In this way, the creative process can only spark joy.

“Facing my mortality at such a young age reoriented my priorities from those résumé virtues to what Brooks calls eulogy virtues, ‘the aspects of character that others praise when a person isn’t around to hear it: humility, kindness, bravery.’”

Jaouad reflects on purpose in one’s life. In the context of her illness and her renewed awareness of mortality, she realizes that what matters most is the kind of person she is rather than the kind of things she has or can produce. This realization offers important perspective on what one wants to do with one’s life, helping define one’s purpose.

“But if I were to try to tease out the throughline between the moments in my life that I have felt most purposeful, I see that in those moments, I was aligned with my values and listening to my intuition. And I’m always striving for a closer alignment with those values and closer attunement to that intuition.”

In concert with the ideas expressed earlier, Jaouad reveals that she has felt more “purposeful” when she acts in alignment with her core values. This is the key to discovering and acting upon one’s purpose: Clarity about the things one values in life, for when action is directed from the “why” of things, it flows more naturally and intuitively. This also speaks to Finding Resilience Through Recollection and Reflection.

“They don’t romanticize all the unknowns, the relentless self-doubt, the setbacks and injuries and countless failures. They don’t focus on the fact that, as I stood at the start of an Olympic race, it was just me standing there. Knowing that I had worked hard, but never knowing: Was it enough?”

Connie Carpenter Phinney, an Olympian, recalls the drive she has felt all her life to keep learning and achieving, but also sheds light on the flip-side of being always driven—the loneliness and the self-doubt one feels when one is not sure of the outcome. Stories like these remind the reader that the process of self-discovery and growth is not easy or quick; it can be frustrating, exhausting, and immense hard work, albeit worth it in the end.

“What we bring with us—and where, and when, and why—often seems self-evident, needing no exploration. But in fact, our must-haves point to what we value, not just in the material sense. They offer clues about who we are, where we are in life, even our hopes and dreams.”

Jaouad recalls summer travels growing up where each person could only bring a backpack of their things, and how the things they packed directly highlighted what they each valued most. This is yet another trick to inducing clarity—to simplify things, removing all options until only the bare minimum can remain. Reflecting on what one chooses to keep or discard can help arrive at a better understanding of what is truly important.

“You can’t help but feel vulnerable when everything has changed, when things are beyond your control. But I know […] It’s only in alchemizing the terror of the unknown into the magic of the unknown that I remember what’s essential.”

Jaouad reflects on how the process of alchemy is not without fear and confusion; however, she is also sure that it is only in facing the unknown time and again that she can continue to evolve and grow, reflecting The Cathartic and Transformative Quality of Creativity. This is a throughline in Jaouad’s personal journey, the repeated forced encounters with ambiguity. Her resilience is reflected in the fortitude and optimism with which she faces each new encounter—she looks to learn, rather than crumble under the overwhelming weight of dealing with change yet again.

“I reach for the page like I reach for prayer: to plead, to confess, to commune, to remember that all is not chaos, all is not lost.”

As Jaouad prepares for yet another round of treatment, she starts a new journal and begins with these words on the first page. Besides exposing her unshakable faith in the power of creativity, it also highlights what a powerful tool that journaling and writing in particular are for Suleika. This is her creative medium of choice, the way in which she both processes internally and relates externally, Finding Resilience Through Recollection and Reflection.