Where Have You Been, Activist Poet?

Yes, I know. It’s been months and months since I posted anything. To be honest, I’ve been wrestling with several questions about my writing and where it is headed. Originally, I created this blog to provide a space to push out my poetry. Then I started worrying that posting it here might make it less likely to have it published elsewhere, such as literary journals or magazines, many of which require completely original never-before-published work. Then I started wondering if it was a good idea to make my poetry available for free when it’s possible to be compensated for it. While pondering these questions (and more), I decided to push “pause” on this blog for awhile.

At the end of April I traveled  to Taos, New Mexico to participate in a week-long, intensive women’s writing retreat led by the wonderful and talented Jennifer Louden. My original intention was to make good headway on a poetry collection. And I did write a few poems while I was there.

Taos PuebloBut something happened during my time in Taos. Maybe it was the powerful, spiritual energy that flows through the community, from the Pueblo to the mountains, and into the town itself. Maybe it was the enthusiastic encouragement of 20+ brilliant women writers, who were also extending beyond their creative comfort zones, supported by Jen’s and Lisa Jones‘ gentle coaching. Maybe it was the fantastic food at the Mabel Dodge Luhan home, where our retreat was located. Maybe it was the the vast New Mexican sky, the labyrinth gracing the property, the daily afternoon gentle yoga, or the rabbits and hummingbirds roaming around. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the intentional turning off of my cell phone and the deliberate avoidance of email and news.

Whatever the catalyst (perhaps all of the above?), my focus shifted in Taos. It shifted away from writing poetry and towards a new, creative project (“The Project,” I now call it), so magnetically compelling I can’t stay away from it for very long or else I start feeling unsettled.  The Project is a novel, a work of historical fiction based on the life of my husband’s grandmother, who at the age of 9, became a refugee during the 1915 Armenian genocide in Turkey. The Project requires a lot of my time and energy–the research alone is massively challenging. After years of mostly technical writing, I’m learning that the process of creating good, quality fiction is hard. Really hard.

Oh, I’m still an activist. And I’m still a poet. But my writing is starting to tell me I could be so much more. Stay tuned….

Why Wait?

The extra week between Thanksgiving and Christmas allowed me to settle on goals for the upcoming year a little earlier than usual. And now that I’m committed to them, I kind of want to get started instead of waiting for January 1 (or 5th, the day after my birthday). The motivation and inspiration I’m feeling today, says maybe I should just get going. Do you feel the same eagerness to start working on something new?

Resolution

Why wait

To change calendars before making yearned for change

Why wait

For the crowd seeking new in a new year

Why wait

You can blaze your own trail

Why wait

Deep wells of resolve are ready to burst forth, eager to start

Why wait

The first step is always the hardest

Take it

Be Bold and Speak the Truth

Sometimes another writer’s work is so close to my own thinking, I can’t help but wonder if  they have been secretly hanging out inside my head. This week’s “WRighteous” column by Amy Ferris is one of those pieces. I envy her boldness, her directness, her ability to capture the multiple contradictions so evident in our divided America, speaking truth to power in such a creative, articulate way. I sometimes hesitate to share my more powerful poems, worrying too much about whether people will think they are too strident, or too “political.” But a wise woman once told me, “Change comes when the pain of change is less than the pain of staying the same.” Our country is in so much pain right now. An effective way to ease the pain is to find our voice, find our courage, and be as bold in speaking truth to power as Amy Ferris is. I’ll try to be bolder–and I hope you will try too.

speak-truth

 

Signs of Change

 

abstract autumn autumn colours bright
Photo by Margerretta on Pexels.com

Seasonal changes are subtle in southern California, but they do exist. Cooler evenings have finally arrived–there was even a bit of rain this morning. The most reliable sign that summer/fall is transitioning to fall/winter is the growing number of liquid amber leaves falling onto the patio. Fallen leaves signal changes to come as we close out one year and anticipate the next. Gandhi challenged us to “be the change we want to see in the world.” The leaves remind me there is much work to be done–personally and collectively–to create a better world for everyone.

Leaves

They lie silently
Edges turned upward
Like ballerinas waiting
To be lifted back up

Tawny, amber, ruddy chorus
Rusty with age
Brittleness belies their former supple, verdant hue
Once moving in time to windy beats

They will move again today
Raked from slumber, beautiful autumn debris
Clearing the stage
For new, gracefully falling dancers

 

 

 

Blessings

affection appreciation decoration design
Photo by Carl Attard on Pexels.com

Thanksgiving marks the beginning of my annual “season of reflection.” From Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve, I spontaneously start evaluating the past year and planning for the year ahead. I think about what brings me joy, and start letting go of the things that don’t so I have more time for the things that do.  I assess progress on the past year’s goals, and if the progress is underwheming, determine whether the goal is still important enough to keep pursuing.  I debate with myself over whether to make New Year’s Resolutions or not. (I inevitably do.)

I usually start my season of reflection by counting my blessings.  (Thanksgiving provides the perfect reminder.)  This year I have so many blessings, it will take most of the weekend to tally them all. But I’m willing to give it the old college try.  Today I am grateful for:

  • dear family and friends
  • almost full moons
  • financial security and a home with no mortgage
  • butchers who don’t laugh when I ask them to spatchcock the turkey for me
  • literacy
  • small kindnesses like my neighbor’s willingness to walk my dog because my hip is acting up
  • the taste of fresh Meyer lemons plucked from my own tree
  • warm fleece jackets to ward against the cooler autumn nights
  • finding the perfect joke gift to give my husband for his birthday
  • plenty of books to read, and more being written for me to read in the future….

And most importantly, I feel blessed that you have stopped by to read my blog today. Thank you! May your blessings be too many to count. Happy Thanksgiving.

“These Are Not Times to Hide”

I’ve been so overwhelmed lately. Overwhelmed by the violence. Overwhelmed by the hate. Overwhelmed by both the “ends justify the means” political rhetoric of the man who sits in the White House and the complicit silence of Republican leaders in response. I’m an introvert, so my natural tendency when overwhelmed is to retreat. But as Amy Ferris wrote so eloquently last Friday, “…these are not times to hide.” Thank you, Amy, for helping me break free of my little cocoon. Next Tuesday is Election Day. May decency prevail. May democracy prevail. May we all break free from our little cocoons and raise a ruckus to make it so.

Cocoon

Darkness surrounding, enveloping
Ensuring security, safety in being alone
Black walls block distractions
Provide protection
No judgements, no shaming
Nothing inhibiting penetrates

Breathe in courage, building
Breathe out fear, releasing
Emergence is coming
Dimness yielding to light
Inner power too much to contain

Almost there

Time to go

 

 

 

Tired from the Week? Try Being Still.

It’s Friday and I’m tired. On days like these it’s hard to write, hard to do anything except (a) think about when I may be able to fit in a nap or (b) find a quiet place to watch nature do its thing.  When I take the time to be still, I experience some pretty amazing things. Like this….

Hummingbird

A hummingbird sits
One bird of paradise on another
At rest
Before the day’s whirring begins

She watches
Longing to rest and be still as the bird

But the bird is not still
It shifts its gaze…left…right…up…back and forth
Alert for potential threats and opportunities
Wings ready for flight in response to either

One last sip of coffee
One last sip of nectar
As both take flight into the promise of the day

animals_hero_birdofparadise-story