Creativity, Inspiration, Nature, Self Care

A Surfer’s Haiku

beach
My beach

The title’s a bit misleading. I’m neither a surfer nor did a surfer create this poem.

I am fortunate to live close to several beaches in Southern California. Most coastal Californian’s can tell you that the weather at the beach, especially in the last decade, is unpredictable.

Today, on a January afternoon, the temperature rose to 70 degrees with little wind. The sun shone hot on my patio when I stepped outside, geared up with my gloves and electrical hedger. Perspiration moistened the brim of my hat before I got started trimming. I hesitated.

Born and raised in this area, I can smell the sea air on most days. My thoughts turned to the ocean breeze a mere six miles away. I could cut the last three overgrown bushes, or I could go with the first impression of what I’d rather be doing. I followed my gut and grabbed a beach towel, my journal, and my water bottle shouting ‘back soon’ to my daughter.

Many more people had the same idea by the looks of the beach parking lot, but I found a large patch of cool sand on a knoll. The roar of the ocean waves, punctuated by kid’s delighted screams, were only outdone by equally excited dogs.

The mid-day sun glassed the ocean, making my eyes squint to watch intrepid sailboats and marvel at brave surfers.

surfers
surfing spot

Scientists say the negative ions of the ocean air calm the brain, and walking barefoot grounds us to the earth. This must be so.

Soon, creativity took over, and I thought of a haiku.

The beach beckons,

blazing blue,

oceans roar

an invitation to surf.

I’ll grant you this isn’t a ‘true’ haiku of 5/7/5 syllables per line, but it’s an example of nature inspiring creativity.

Scientists also say that getting outdoors and connecting with the earth will help your mental well-being.

I wrote a few pages in my journal, took a nap on the sand and listened. Nature nurtured me, and don’t we all need that from time to time?

Think about what nurtures you and go out and live it.

The hedges can wait.

Lazy afternoon at the beach

Inspiration, poetry

What are Your Yes’s and No’s for 2020?

Photo by Denise Karis

 

Re-reading my 2018 journal entry, I see that I wrote: “I am content.”

In 2019, I did a lot of stuff, traveled a few places, wrote a whole lot, read 37 books, spent too much time on Netflix, and laughed a lot.

I hope to do more of the same in 2020.

Another entry that I read in my reflection is this, a part of a poem by Esther Cohen, Writer, and Poet in New York City. I loved the intent then, and now. I say ‘YES’ to this:

 

I’ll try instead to hear more music,

to open my arms wider,

to read more

of other people’s beautiful sentences

and write a few myself.

 

For 2020, Ms. Cohen wrote a few verses of what she won’t do, which made me laugh because I’m like-minded. Here’s an excerpt:

I will not sign up for a Tai Chi class

even though more or less everyone

says it’s a Good Idea.  Tried a few times.

No dice.

5

I will not stop eating

gluten, sugar, and everything else white.

 

So, ‘NO’, I will not go on Keto, or take Pilates, or keep up with Facebook or Instagram, or be unkind, or burn myself out, or burn someone else out.

‘YES,’ I will read, I will write most days, I will take a chance, visit abroad, hike a little more, binge Outlander Season 4 and whatever else I love on Netflix/Hulu, and I will partake of dark chocolate and red wine.

I like the simplicity of saying ‘YES’ to ideas/actions and ‘NO’ to others, especially without guilt or anger.

Now go fill a few lines in a notepad with “I’m saying YES to:” and “I’m saying NO to:”

Here’s to the YES’s and to the NO’s. May you be filled with light, love, and laughter!

photo by Jamie Street for unsplash.com

 

 

 

poetry

Write Yourself a Love Letter for Valentine’s Day

 

paper cutout
Amor Eterno by Tasha Marks and Emily Evans, Zocalo Poets

 

I woke up thinking of Valentine’s Day when my kids were young. You know, the endless search a week before (sometimes the night of) for V cards, small and cute for the kids to take to their classroom.

But this morning, I thought of love letters. Specifically, what if we wrote a love letter to ourselves each Valentine’s Day?

What would mine say? How would I start?

Dear Monica,

I love you?

That’s not it. So my mind turned over what I’d write about and soon I came up with words that lent themselves to a poem:

 

Write yourself a love letter

Write to your heart’s delight, to its dismay

Write to the here and the past

Write to the heat and the cold

the bitter and sweet

 

Write to light and through the dark

Write to the grief and joy

Write to love and to hate

Write to the nothingness or

the jagged points

 

Write to the known and unknown, the shadows and light

Write to the truth and through the lies

Write to remember and forget

Write to the clearing beyond

 abandon self-doubt

 

Write to please yourself and inflame others

Write unwaveringly, straight to the point

Write to sing and to kill pain,

Write for release

feel the words surface, plunge deep

 

Write beyond sight, over the mountain, through the deserts and valleys

Write under the stars, on top of the moon, the sun seeking your face

Write with eyes closed, mind open

Write like you matter,

for you do.

 

Think about it.

red rose

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”

Oscar Wilde

 

Happy Valentine’s Day ❤

poetry

Ten Latinx Poets on #NationalPoetryDay

I want to do what spring does to cherry trees-Pablo Neruda

Yesterday was the first day of Spring and the first day I caught a breath. A weeklong cough and a road trip of 1100 miles will do that to you.

Today is National Poetry Day. BookRiot published a list of “25 Gateway Poets to Start Reading for World Poetry Day.”

This had me thinking about the first time I became interested in reading poetry. It wasn’t any of the poets in my English Lit classes in high school.

In college, I bought, and read, my first book of poetry:

1-Floricanto by Alurista. His words caught me up in poetry, the poems reflected my childhood, my experiences. My favorite: “We Walk On Pebbled Streets.”  I still have the old book, weathered and marked up in the margins with images that resonated, made me think, ask questions.

 

Poetry book by Alurista
Floricanto by Alurista

The following are Latinx poets I’ve read.

2- Sandra Cisneros: My Wicked, Wicked Ways and Loose Woman. Every woman finds themselves in her poetry. My favorite, a three-page poem:

You bring out the Mexican in me

The hunkered thick dark spiral

The core of a heart howl

The bitter bile.

The tequila lágrimas on Saturday all

through next weekend Sunday.

3. Margarita Engle writes novels in verse, many of the novels are for Middle Grade and Young Adult readers. The Lightning Dreamer : Cuba’s Greatest Abolitionist and Poet Slave of Cuba are favorites.

4. Frank Acosta publishes poetry on Facebook. Here’s a post about his poetry.

5. Juan Felipe Herrera, the first Latino Poet Laureate and awarded the National Book Critics Circle Award for his collection of poems “Half of the World in Light.”

6-Gloria Anzaldúa, a NEA award winner and co-author with writer/playwright Cherríe Moraga of Borderlands.

To live in the Borderlands means to

put chile in the borscht,

eat whole wheat tortillas,

speak Tex-Mex with a Brooklyn accent;

be stopped by la migra at the border checkpoints;

Living in the Borderlands means you fight hard to

resist the gold elixir beckoning from the bottle,

the pull of the gun barrel,

the rope crushing the hollow of your throat

7. Jimmy Santiago Baca‘s poetry is gut-wrenching and intense. He’s written several books of poetry besides a screenplay, Bound by Honor.

8. Verónica Reyes, Chopper Chopper centers on poems from “Bordered Lives.”

Poems by Veronica Reyes

9. Melinda Palacio. I first read “Folsom Lockdown” her chapbook, and went on to  “How Fire is a Story Waiting.” My favorite is “Things to Carry,” her poem about visiting her father in prison.

10. Ada Límon. “Sharks in the River.” She made a blog entry that described a feeling I also had:

I feel like everything these days is just notes. No completed thing, just notes. But I am taking them and walking with them and move them around in my body and flying them like kites and listening to them rustle and maybe someday I will make something.

Now go read some poetry, an old favorite and someone new.