I’ve learned a lot from 37days.  Some big ahas, some quiet moments, some deep, significant shifts.  (Yes, seismic, sometimes.)  If I had to try and sum that learning up, I think it would come out like this: live so the poems can find you.

I could safely say this way of thinking, of working, of living… has changed my life.  Has been life-changing.  Not to mention the many poems that have found me along the way ;-)

What it’s meant for me in practice has been something like this:

Spending as much time as possible outside

Taking photos.  I mean rather: taking photos with a mindset of wonder.

Making room for writing practice

Allowing what flows to be practice. Not perfect, not wholly formed.  Just practice

Sharing at least some of what comes out.  Poems do not like to be kept in boxes.

Letting the words tumble, and find their own rhythm

Noticing patterns, looking for connections

Listening to what people are saying (social media provides clue after clue)

Embracing beginner’s mind

Paying attention to the everyday.  There’s so much wonder to be found there.

Writing as part of the act of grieving

Listening to what the land, the water, the trees, the hills…are saying.

Listening to what my heart is saying: tears, laughter, whispers, songs, prayers, fire, softness

Passing it on: not being scared to share my work, not being scared to declare how beautiful the world is, passing on what I’ve learned about how it is possible to live, so the poems can find you.

As a small gift to the readers of 37days, here’s a small piece of poetry practice I wrote for the start of the New Year.  It’s prompted by the Scottish tradition of bringing coal as a gift when visiting someone’s house for the first time in the new year.

First Foot

Not knowing what it is you want
I bring you coal.
Drowning in the sea of not knowing
I dive deep down and
Bring you coal.
Hard-cut, hard-fought,
Glistening still with the
Blood, sweat and tears
With the
Hard graft
Mine craft
Of my father, your father,
Of their fathers,
Grandfathers,
The toil of
These men
These miners
Working deeply darkly underground
To bring us coal.
Cold, hard, true.
Light bringing, heat bringing,
Home making, hearth making:
Coal.
It's all I have.
It's all I know.
Not knowing what it is you want,
I bring you coal.

Thank you Patti, for the invitation and inspiration to sit down and write, to pay attention, to pay respect, and to pass it all on.

~~~

As a wee footnote: I haven’t met Patti yet – though if she does make it over to Scotland there’ll be a legion of raving fans awaiting her arrival. What I’ve learned is what I’ve learned by reading her words: in her books, on this blog, in tweets and status updates on the web… It’s how I’ve got to ‘know’ so many amazing people: reminding me over and over of the power of our words to make a difference, to make connections, to open up hearts.

‘Live, so the poems can find you’ is a slight variation of some words I found here on a poetry Wednesday: live so you can find the poems.