Happify

Build Your Happiness Skills with Happify

April 19, 2013


A couple of months ago, one of the founders of Happify.com contacted me to ask if I’d like to be a beta tester of the site before it went public. Of course I said yes, because I’m always interested in all possible ways of increasing happiness for myself and others.

Created by a combination of scientists and game designers, Happify uses games, quizzes and activities designed to help improve your level of happiness because, as they write in the About Happify section, “Just like physical fitness, there are activities you can do on a regular basis to become happier.” Scientific evidence indicates that about 40% of our happiness level is within our control (the remaining 60 % stems from genetics and demographics). That means that we can have a significant impact on how happy we feel by doing things that make us happier.  

Happify has broken down the activities into five “essential happiness skills”: Savor, Thank, Aspire, Give, Empathize. Once you sign up, you’re given an initial assessment of your happiness level. Then you choose a “track” to follow. You can measure and follow your progress on your designated track, and you can switch tracks if you want to. Most activities take only a few minutes, with a few more minutes more to write about them. Some you can pledge to do, then come back and report on how they went. You can read about the science behind each activity by clicking the “Why It Works” button. Members are encouraged to follow other members, “Like” and comment on others’ Happify posts. You can set each activity to be visible to your followers, or just yourself. (To protect people close to me, I chose to keep a couple of the more sensitive activities private.) You can choose photos to illustrate your posts from the Happify site, from Facebook or from your own computer. There is also a Happify Facebook Group you can join.

In addition to Happify members’ posts, Happify’s home page features the “Daily Happifier”—photos, videos, quotes or short stories intended to boost your mood.

So far, I’ve completed one track: “Cope Better with Stress,” and I’m now working on “Nurture Your Body and Soul.” Other tracks include “Appreciate What You Have,” “Explore the Art in Happiness,” “Be More Socially Connected,” and “Enjoy Parenting More.”

So what do I think? I have to admit my initial response when I started was to feel more stressed! (Oh, no—I’m falling behind on my happiness activities!) The program is set up so you do a certain number of activities in a certain time frame, and I could not keep up. This was partly because since I am a “Pioneer,” I was taking them very seriously and wanting to put some time and thought into each activity. I wanted to post, comment on others’ posts and give feedback as often as I could. Once I realized I could extend my track as often as I wanted, and that no one was pressuring me to finish, I settled down to my own slightly plodding and erratic pace and relaxed about the whole thing.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned so far is how oblivious I am throughout the day. I don’t take the time to notice and savor. I charge through my days trying to “achieve” as much as I can, whether that means a writing project, household chore or batch of errands. I’m missing my own life! The Happify activities, many of which require a bit of reflection, have helped me be more mindful, to plan treats for myself and others, and to think more deeply about my life.

I think if you go at your own pace, and participate as much or as little as you like, Happify can be a fun way learn more about what makes you happy, as well as connect with others who are focused on bringing more joy to everyday life. Happify has extended an invitation to my readers, so if you want to check out Happify for yourself, click here. And let me know what you think!

Linda Hogan

Writing Across the Sky

April 17, 2013



This column originates in Nebraska, and our office is about two hours’ drive from that stretch of the Platte River where thousands of sandhill cranes stop for a few weeks each year. Linda Hogan, one of our most respected Native writers and Writer in Residence for The Chickasaw Nation, perfectly captures their magic and mystery in this fine poem. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

The Sandhills

The language of cranes
we once were told
is the wind. The wind
is their method,
their current, the translated story
of life they write across the sky.
Millions of years
they have blown here
on ancestral longing,
their wings of wide arrival,
necks long, legs stretched out
above strands of earth
where they arrive
with the shine of water,
stories, interminable
language of exchanges
descended from the sky
and then they stand,
earth made only of crane
from bank to bank of the river
as far as you can see
the ancient story made new.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem reprinted from Sing: Poetry from the Indigenous Americas, Ed. by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke, The Univ. of Arizona Press, 2011, by permission of Linda Hogan and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Family

Grandma B

April 15, 2013


One of my heroes is gone. On Saturday evening, my grandmother, Vivian Burch Holmes, passed away at the age of 97.

My grandma was my hero because she was so full of life, interested in living and in other people right up until the end. Until recently, she went to hospitals and nursing homes to visit and play bingo with the “old people.” She lived independently until November, when the effects of a small stroke made it too hard for her to climb the stairs to her basement-level apartment. I know she found it very difficult to move to an assisted living facility near my aunt, leaving her friends, her church and her independence behind.

I didn’t know my grandma as well as I would have liked. For all of my growing up years, I lived in California and she lived in Virginia. I visited her a time or two, and she came out to California a couple times as well, notably for my high school graduation. She wrote to me regularly, even up until a few weeks before her death. I’m so glad I wrote back and she was able to hear and understand my letter before she died. I always thought of her as Grandma Burch, even when she remarried after my grandfather died. (Her second husband passed away some years ago.)

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Even with our sporadic contact, I have many happy memories of Grandma. She tried to teach me how to crochet (I never advanced beyond one long string of yarn) and she did teach me how to do candlewicking. One of my favorite memories is of the time she came to visit us in Florida, and my dad and stepmom came from California, when Nick was about 3. It was near Grandma’s birthday, so every time we went out to eat, we told the servers it was her birthday, and they came and sang to her. The best time was at a Mexican restaurant where they made her wear a giant sombrero while they serenaded her. You can see by her big smile she’s enjoying the experience! Other memories of that visit include a trip to Disney World, and a looong toy guitar “concert” given by Nick out on our lanai which everyone endured more or less patiently.

Grandma lived a full life, and died a peaceful death. She was loved and she will be missed. She was not rich, famous or powerful, but she touched and inspired many lives, including my own. I was lucky to be her granddaughter.

Four generations: Nick, Grandma, me, my dad.

Birds

Happy Little Moments: Stopping to Listen

April 12, 2013



I spent a happy hour sitting on our lanai after dinner one night last week. I dipped in and out of my book, but mostly I listened to the birds, trying to identify the different species I saw and heard (I’m terrible at this but enjoy it anyway). A frog’s voice pulsed from somewhere to my left. My dog occasionally announced her presence to the world by randomly barking at nothing in particular. A squirrel jumped onto the screen enclosure with a soft thunk, a couple of people jogged by on the trail. A hawk perched on the limb of an oak, rubbing his (or her) beak against the bark. The insects began an evening chorus.

I noticed that when I stop to listen, the quiet evening is full of small clicks and chirps and rustlings. Noticing them and trying to figure out what they are gave me deep pleasure.

I’ve noticed, too, that when I slow down the pace of my everyday activities, I observe so many details I might have otherwise missed: the way the morning light glows in my bedroom when I open the blinds, the smell of brewing coffee and of the gardenias on my desk, the taste of strawberries and the spacecraft-taking-off-for-Mars clatter of the washing machine. These little details make up the real “fabric of our lives” (with apologies to the cotton industry) and too often I’m oblivious to them. I think I’ll make sitting outside after dinner a regular practice. I can always learn to listen better.

What do you notice when you listen?

National Poetry Month

Veiled Beauty

April 10, 2013


“A poet dares to be just so clear and no clearer…He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it.”
—E.B. White

Remember, April is National Poetry Month. Click here for ways to celebrate. My library has ordered a copy of The Best of the Best American Poetry: 25th Anniversary Edition, and I plan to put in a request for it when it comes in. Another edition I plan to check out is Good Poems for Hard Times, chosen by Garrison Keillor.

In what way will you let poetry into your life this April?

Pets

What I Did on My Vacation

April 05, 2013

Too much.

My spring break wasn’t really a vacation—my son had already had his school break and we didn’t go anywhere, but I recognized that I needed a break from blogging and took one. I didn’t try to fill the days—in fact, I tried to empty them! But life, as usual, got in the way. While I was “taking a break,” Scout had some problems and had to go to the vet (she’s feeling better now) and we helped my son complete a community service project which involved making 1000 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to be distributed to the hungry and homeless. This is what 1000 sandwiches looks like:



I did manage to do a little extra reading (Mr. Skeffington, The Olive Grove),   ride Tank several times and make a new vision board (better late than never). And—ta da—I finished painting my sketches from Sunken Gardens. 


The original sketch:


Have you noticed that when you cut back on doing one thing, something else leaps forward to take its place? The time I spend writing posts and visiting other people’s blogs was easily consumed by other tasks, and by the end of the week, I didn’t really feel like I’d had a break. I extended the break into the first part of this week, and what do you know? I spent hours on Monday doing errands. Clearly, I need to work on the concept of taking a break.

This non-break taught me something about myself that I already sort of knew: I feel guilty if I’m not constantly working to contribute in some way. Since I don’t have a paying job, I drive myself to work for the family nearly constantly. I have a terribly hard time allowing myself the time I need for study, thought and yes, doing nothing, in service of feeding my creativity and my ultimate writing goals which I am ashamed to say have almost completely fallen into obscurity. I feel bad about this, and instead of rerouting my energies to fix it, I go for the more obvious (and endless) to-do list where I can mark off things achieved and actually see a result—a bathroom cleaned, groceries in the fridge, etc. I’m having a hard time letting go of tangible results for intangible ones.

I’ve written about this before, and as you can see I haven’t come up with a solution yet. I’m not giving up, though—I will figure this out! In the meantime, I’ll try to cut myself some slack, to do a little bit less in order to do more, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll plan a vacation that really will be a vacation!

April

Sleeping on Sunlight

April 03, 2013


Putting bed pillows onto the grass to freshen, it’s a pretty humble subject for a poem, but look how Kentucky poet, Frank Steele, deftly uses a sun-warmed pillow to bring back the comfort and security of childhood. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

Part of a Legacy

I take pillows outdoors to sun them   
as my mother did.  “Keeps bedding fresh,”   
she said.  It was April then, too—   
buttercups fluffing their frail sails,   
one striped bee humming grudges, a crinkle   
of jonquils.  Weeds reclaimed bare ground.   
All of these leaked somehow   
into the pillows, looking odd where they   
simmered all day, the size of hams, out of place   
on grass.  And at night I could feel   
some part of my mother still with me   
in the warmth of my face as I dreamed   
baseball and honeysuckle, sleeping   
on sunlight.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2000 by Frank Steele, whose most recent book of poetry is Singing into That Fresh Light, co-authored with Peggy Steele, ed. Robert Bly, Blue Sofa Press, 2001. Reprinted from Blue Sofa Review, Vol. II, no. 1, Spring 2000, by permission of Frank Steele. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Happiness

Spring Break

March 25, 2013


I’m taking a brief spring break from blogging, but I’ll be back soon. Hope your week is a happy one!

Books

Five Things Making Me Happy Right Now

March 22, 2013

So much of life is made up of the little things, the simple pleasures and everyday adventures that form the main part of our existence. If we can take pleasure in those little things (instead of waiting for some distant “big thing”), we’ll find our day-to-day lives that much happier. Here are five little things making me happy right now:


Singing. I love to sing—not for an audience, but with the radio or CDs, in the shower, driving down the road, etc. I just started doing it again lately, after falling silent for months.


Robins Eggs. Every year when the Easter candy hits the shelves, I treat myself to a bag (just one) of Robins Eggs. In order to be satisfying, they have to be made with Whopper brand malted milk candies and they have to be the full size, not the minis. I’m very particular about my junk food.


My dog. Scout makes me happy nearly every day…except when she has to go potty at 4 in the morning. I spend considerable time each day petting her, giving her treats, loving her. Today’s her 14th birthday, and we’ve had her since she was eight weeks old. She’s an integral member of the family, and we know that since she’s aging she won’t be with us forever. I’m making the most of the time we have.


Gardenias. I just picked the first gardenia blossom from my plant and its gorgeous scent perfumes my desk. Once picked, the flowers last only a day or two, but while they last, they can make a whole room smell wonderful.

The Olive Grove, by Katherine Kizilos. I loved visiting Greece a few years ago, and while I’d love to return someday, for now I have to make do with other people’s trips. Kizilos makes me feel like I’m there when she describes the blue of the Aegean, and the way the island of Santorini rises up out of the sea. 

What’s making you happy right now?

Birds

Passing Through

March 20, 2013

Photo courtesy Wendy Domeni

Each of the senses has a way of evoking time and place. In this bittersweet poem by Jeffrey Harrison of Massachusetts, birdsong offers reassurance as the speaker copes with loss. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

Visitation

Walking past the open window, she is surprised
by the song of the white-throated sparrow
and stops to listen. She has been thinking of
the dead ones she loves--her father who lived
over a century, and her oldest son, suddenly gone
at forty-seven--and she can't help thinking
she has called them back, that they are calling her
in the voices of these birds passing through Ohio
on their spring migration. . . because, after years
of summers in upstate New York, the white-throat
has become something like the family bird.
Her father used to stop whatever he was doing
and point out its clear, whistling song. She hears it
again: "Poor Sam Peabody Peabody Peabody."
She tries not to think, "Poor Andy," but she
has already thought it, and now she is weeping.
But then she hears another, so clear, it's as if
the bird were in the room with her, or in her head,
telling her that everything will be all right.
She cannot see them from her second-story window--
they are hidden in the new leaves of the old maple,
or behind the white blossoms of the dogwood--
but she stands and listens, knowing they will stay
for only a few days before moving on.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2006 by Jeffrey Harrison. Reprinted from Incomplete Knowledge, Four Way Books, 2006, with permission of the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Bibliotherapy

Take One Book and Call Me in the Morning

March 18, 2013



Feeling down?

Take one book and call me in the morning.

I don’t know about you, but I self-medicate with books. When I’m enduring a difficult stretch, I often choose to read books that are funny, or I’ll reach for a familiar comfort read. I’ll choose the simple and clear over the more complex, simply because my mind is under strain already and I want any input I have control over to be positive and uplifting.

Well, it turns out that my instinct for bibliotherapy is a sound one: In several countries, including England, people with mild to moderate mental health issues, including anxiety, panic attacks and depression, can be prescribed high-quality self help books they can borrow from their local libraries. Miranda McKearney, chief executive of the Reading Agency, a group that helped develop the list of books, told Mark Brown of The Guardian, “There is a growing evidence base that shows that self help reading can help people with certain mental health conditions to get better.” The program is called Books on Prescription, and the topics the books cover include anger, anxiety, depression, binge eating and stress and worry, among others. (Please note that this program is not intended for those with serious mental illness.) Click here for a list of 30 of the most popular books used in Books on Prescription programs.

But what if you don’t have a mental health condition—can books still help you feel better? I certainly think so, and so does the Reading Agency, which has also compiled a list of “mood boosting books”—books they believe will generally provide uplifting reading. My favorite Barbara Kingsolver book, Prodigal Summer, is on this list, and a couple of books that are currently on my TBR list.  I’ll explore some of the other titles because I’m always looking for happy reads. Click here for the whole list. (If you have a book to suggest, they’re currently compiling a new list for 2013. Tweet your recommendation using #moodboosting or email them at moodboosting@readingagency.org.uk. Recommendations will be given to reading groups who will decide which books make the cut for the list to be released in May.)

If I were to make my own list of mood boosting books, in addition to Prodigal Summer, it would include:

I’m a Stranger Here Myself, Bill Bryson

Fifty Acres and a Poodle, Jeanne Marie Laskas

Cartoon collections like Baby Blues, Zits, or Calvin and Hobbes

Guardians of Being—Spiritual Teaching from Our Dogs and Cats, Eckhart Tolle and Patrick McDonnell

Horse Heaven, Jane Smiley

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

A book from the Anne of Green Gables series, probably Anne of the Island (I don’t like the cover of this edition, but it’s the most recent), Anne of Windy Poplars or Anne’s House of Dreams. Or more likely, all three.

A cozy mystery by Agatha Christie or Patricia Wentworth.

Something by Mary Stewart, most likely This Rough Magic, The Moon-Spinners, Madam, Will You Talk?or My Brother Michael.

A collection of Dave Barry’s newspaper columns, like Dave Barry Is Not Making This Up or Dave Barry Talks Back.

So what about you? I’m dying to know—what would your mood-boosting books list include?

Generosity

The Week of Yes

March 15, 2013

It started with a pair of socks. I needed a pair of socks to ride in, and I found some cute ones at a tack store where I was having a repair done. As with any specialized item, since the socks were “for riding” they cost more than an equivalent pair of plain socks. I weighed my options: buy the slightly-more-expensive-but-cute socks that are exactly the right length and thickness for riding or save money, wait for a sale, buy another pair of socks that will do but are not quite right. You’d think that would be an easy decision, wouldn’t you? It was when I was standing there holding the socks and debating with myself about buying them that I realized just how stingy I can be with myself.

I’ve been thinking about this concept for quite some time. Where is the line between common sense frugality and stinginess? Part of the way I think comes from how I grew up and most of my young adulthood. For a long time, I did not have money for anything except true necessities. I remember carrying a calculator to the grocery store when I was first married; once I hit a certain amount, items were returned to the shelf. There simply was no extra money in the budget.

But it’s not just money but time that I’m stingy with. I’ve begun to feel that if I’m not working—either for pay or for the good of the family—I’m wasting time. Add these beliefs to my naturally cautious and shy nature and you have a recipe for a narrow, joyless life and a lot of guilt. I seem to take a perverse pleasure in denying myself things I want, whether it’s a pair of socks or a half hour to read *gasp* right in the middle of the day.

I don’t want to live like that. I want to be more generous, loving and kind to myself. I believe that will make me happier as well as help me be more generous and loving to others. So I came up with the concept of “a week of yes”—a week where I followed my impulses, indulged my desires and generally loosened up on myself. Three times I’ve set out to have a “week of yes”—and three times I’ve started and stopped.  I can’t seem to sustain the concept of saying yes for more than a day or two. It’s hard! It’s scary. It requires some serious attention and listening to myself.

Why don’t I say yes? Like too many things, it comes down to fear: What if I say yes and something bad happens? What would other people think? What options will I close off if I say yes? I’m a little afraid of what I’ll get myself into by saying yes. I definitely don’t want a life that is overloaded with too many activities and I don’t want yes to be indulgence for indulgence’s sake.

To make things more confusing, sometimes saying no is really saying yes! Saying no to lots of yummy-but-bad-for-me foods is really saying yes to my bigger goals of being leaner and healthier. (However, saying no to all delicious foods can lead to binge eating. Let’s not get too carried away here.) Saying no to an $80 purse I don’t need and am not in love with means saying yes to keeping that $80 for something else. (Here, a friend’s motto, “If it’s not an absolute yes, it’s a no” comes in handy.)

Instead of a week of yes, I’m slowly and gradually bringing yes into my life in small ways. To start, I’ve come up with these basic guidelines. I will say yes if:
    • It costs less than $10.
    • It’s something I’ve been wanting/wanting to do for a long time.
    • It furthers my larger and most important goals: good health, loving relationships, fulfilling work.
    • It’s an unexpected chance that might not come again.

And yes, I bought the socks.

The socks that started it all.
Do you think you’re generous with yourself? What do you want to say yes to?

Field Trip Friday: Le Mouton Noir

March 12, 2013


Are you ready for another installment of Field Trip Friday? This time, our wanderings took us to Le Mouton Noir (“the black sheep”) Bakehouse, because sometimes you just need to visit a gourmet bakery. Partner-in-adventure Laure and I made the trek to downtown Tampa to have lunch at this little place I’d heard about through the newspaper.


While our day was fun, we had a bit more adventure than we planned, thanks to my own inattention to detail. My first mistake was to copy only the rights and lefts of the Google Maps directions without the distances between points, and my second mistake was assuming I knew where the place was and walking confidently off in that direction after we’d parked. It was after we’d walked several l-o-o-n-g blocks and the street numbers were going the wrong direction that I remembered a bit about cross streets and Laure pulled out her phone to locate it. Yup, we’d walked in the opposite direction.

We were lucky it was a gorgeous, cool-but-sunny day and the extra walking made us feel that we could indulge, perhaps, in a pastry as well as lunch. (What better way to celebrate 20 extra minutes of walking than by inhaling 800 calories of sweet and sinful delight?)

By the time we reached the bakery, which we had actually driven past on our way to the parking garage, we were more than ready for lunch.

What I ate:

Insalata caprese sandwich
Our reward for the extra walking:

German chocolate cake
Lunch was delicious and worth the drive and walk. Laure sketched hers (she writes about it here) and I took pictures. Perhaps a sketch will appear in my sketchbook, but probably not, because I still haven’t finished the sketches from Sunken Gardens (but I promise I will and I’ll share them here)! We’ll probably go back at some future date—we haven’t tried the chocolate croissants, after all.

The moral of this Field Trip Friday is: when exploring new places, go with the flow and don’t get too upset if things don’t go quite as planned. Oh, and be sure to reward yourself with cake. Definitely, cake should be involved.

Have you taken a field trip lately?

Eating

Happy Little Things: Flavored Almonds

March 08, 2013


Eating: one of life’s great simple pleasures, but one that can quickly get me into trouble. In my quest for tasty-yet-mostly-healthy snacks, I’ve discovered the joy of flavored almonds. I started off with Blue Diamond butter toffee flavor, and…yum! Slightly sweet, but still mostly healthy. Next, a friend introduced me to the toasted coconut flavor, also tasty and just slightly sweet. And then, well, another friend warned told me about the salt ’n vinegar flavor, which is now my favorite. The only downside is that you have to be careful how many of these you eat, because one ounce weighs in at around 170 calories—no slugging down handfuls and expecting to retain (or regain) one’s svelte figure. 

Sure, plain almonds might be a bit healthier, and I do eat and enjoy them also—but when I want to have something that feels like a treat without totally derailing my health goals, I reach for one of these yummy flavors. They make me happy. (And yes, I do see that “artificially flavored” on the label of the salt ’n vinegar flavor—I admit they’re not perfect…but neither am I.)

What is your favorite healthy snack?

*I received no compensation for this completely unsolicited mention of Blue Diamond almonds.

Mailboxes

Waiting for News From Spring

March 06, 2013

Photo courtesy rnhyppy

When spring finally arrives, it can be fun to see what winter left behind, and Jeffrey Harrison of Massachusetts is doing just that in this amusing poem. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

Mailboxes in Late Winter

It’s a motley lot. A few still stand
at attention like sentries at the ends
of their driveways, but more lean
askance as if they’d just received a blow
to the head, and in fact they’ve received
many, all winter, from jets of wet snow
shooting off the curved, tapered blade
of the plow. Some look wobbly, cocked
at oddball angles or slumping forlornly
on precariously listing posts. One box
bows steeply forward, as if in disgrace, its door
lolling sideways, unhinged. Others are dented,
battered, streaked with rust, bandaged in duct tape,
crisscrossed with clothesline or bungee cords.
A few lie abashed in remnants of the very snow
that knocked them from their perches.
Another is wedged in the crook of a tree
like a birdhouse, its post shattered nearby.
I almost feel sorry for them, worn out
by the long winter, off-kilter, not knowing
what hit them, trying to hold themselves
together, as they wait for news from spring.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Jeffrey Harrison, whose most recent book of poems is Incomplete Knowledge, Four Way Books, 2006. Poem reprinted from Southwest Review, Vol. 97, no. 1, 2012, by permission of Jeffrey Harrison and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.