Photo courtesy Suchitra |
For instance, out with:
- Negative self-talk (Tell your inner critic to shut up.)
- Angry thoughts
- Excuses
- Fears
- Resentments
- Grudges
- Judgment
- Criticism
And in with:
- Affirmations
- Forgiveness (As Karen Salmansohn wrote in Instant Happy: Happy = “Repeat after me: I forgive myself for not being perfect. And I recognize none of us are perfect, so I am open to forgiving others.”)
- Gratitude
- Acceptance
- Courage
It’s a lot easier to spring clean a kitchen than a brain, but
the results of our “brain cleaning” are more likely to bring us lasting
happiness. What would you like to sweep out of your life this spring?
Photo courtesy Thomas B. |
Introduction
by Ted Kooser: This year’s
brutal winter surely calls for a poem such as today’s selection, a peek at the
inner workings of spring. Susan Kelly-DeWitt lives and teaches in Sacramento.
Apple Blossoms
One evening in
winter
when nothing
has been enough,
when the days
are too short,
the nights too
long
and cheerless,
the secret
and docile
buds of the apple
blossoms begin
their quick
ascent to
light. Night
after
interminable night
the sugars
pucker and swell
into green
slips, green
silks. And
just as you find
yourself at
the end
of winter’s
long, cold
rope, the
blossoms open
like pink
thimbles
and that black
dollop
of shine
called
bumblebee
stumbles in.
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 ©2001 by Susan
Kelly-DeWitt, whose most recent book of poems is The Fortunate Islands,
Marick Press, 2008. Poem reprinted from To a Small Moth, Poet’s Corner
Press, 2001, by permission of Susan Kelly-DeWitt and the publisher.
Introduction copyright 2017 by The Poetry Foundationi. The introduction’s
author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry
to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.
Horses, like all animals, live in the moment. They’re in tune with their surroundings—aware of the turkey in the next field, the start up of the truck that brings their hay, or if you’ve got a carrot in your pocket. That presence, harmony and connection is something most of us want more of.
For the past six weeks, I’ve been experimenting with what
horsemanship instructor Carolyn Resnick calls the Chair Challenge, “sharing
territory” with my horse, Tank. Mostly it involves simply sitting in a chair in
his paddock. Some days I read, some days I write in my barn journal. Others, I
just sit and listen and look. The theory is that this practice develops a
stronger bond between us, by “achieving a companionship experience and
connection in the moment in harmony and unity.” We so often only spend time
with our horses when we want to do something with them, when we have
expectations. Simply hanging out allows us both to relax and become more in
tune with each other.
When I first started this practice, my mind scrabbled around
like a trapped lizard. I found it almost impossible to sit and do nothing. No
matter how much I profess to want a present life, I more often than not careen
through my day—racing from checking emails, to working out, to writing a blog
post to cleaning the bathroom to running errands.
Tank napping next to my chair |
At first, Tank was puzzled. Apparently, he’s absorbed my “we
must be doing something all the time” attitude, and my journal entries record
that he nudged me, nibbled on my magazine, journal, and pen. He still tries to
do this sometimes, especially if he’s bored, and I have to shoo him away. At
other times he’s happy to stand in his favorite spot looking out beyond the
fence line, or doze in the corner of his shelter. I love it when he stands near
me, gives a nice long sigh, and we savor the peace of being together with no
agenda. That’s when I realize one of
the most pleasurable of the benefits of this exercise: harmony, living in the moment,
the sheer pleasure of sharing space with this beautiful animal.
While I still have to fight my desire to “accomplish
something” when I go to the barn, I’ve also started to crave the peaceful
togetherness of sharing territory. Of hearing the tap-tapping of a pileated
woodpecker, the haunting cry of a hawk. Of seeing sand, sky, puffy white
clouds, scrubby woods bordering the paddocks. Of feeling Tank’s muzzle nudging
me or resting for a moment on the top of my head. The quiet within the quiet.
No one around, no sound of traffic or people.
Yesterday, I even found myself using this technique while
waiting for a prescription to be filled. I stopped fidgeting, checking my phone
for the time and mentally ticking off the next three items on my to-do list, in
favor of sitting calmly, breathing slowly, and observing what was going on
around me.
So what does this have to do with you, most likely a
non-horse owner? The lesson is: if you want peace, harmony and connection,
stop, look, listen, and be. Slow down especially when you feel called
upon to rush. Quiet your thoughts, let your body relax. Let the moment draw out
as long and smooth as possible.
You don’t need a green plastic chair and an American Quarter
Horse. Wherever you are, slow down. Pay attention. Don’t miss the daily simple
pleasures that are right there for your enjoyment.
Photo courtesy Jenna Beekhuis |
“Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand
bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray; nay, when it strikes on a
kindred heart, like the converged light on a mirror, it reflects itself with
redoubled brightness. It is not perfected till it is shared.”
—Jane Porter
It’s time once again for Link Love, a round up of links I hope you’ll find as entertaining and thought provoking as I did.
Bloggers are an opinionated bunch. We offer stories and
advice, hoping to connect with readers and make their lives better. But as
Courtney Carver writes in “I Don’t Know What’s Best for You”:
“Use the information you find on the internet, in books and courses, on this site, and anywhere else as pieces of the puzzle, but not as the end all be all. It’s not. No one know what’s best for you but you.”
A skill I need to develop—learning how to be comfortable
with other people feeling uncomfortable.
Overwhelm. It happens to the best of us. Here’s one way to
stop it from derailing your day.
I enjoy many of David’s posts on his blog, Raptitude. In
this one, he shared “4 Absurdly Easy Things I Do That Make Life Disproportionately Better.” What four things would make your list? One of mine:
Put the coffee pot on a timer so it’s ready when we wake up!
I read a lot of non-fiction, but I’m embarrassed to say my
memory of what I read is often spotty. I’m thinking of trying Michael Hyatt’s
ideas from “How to Make Your Non-fiction Reading More Productive.”
Just discovered the website Art to Self after hearing a
podcast interview with artist Steph Halligan. What a terrific idea! I’ve been
back several times. One of my favorite “notes”: “It’s Meant to Fall Away.”
This made me laugh:
Photo courtesy Uwe Baumann |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: The next time you open
your closet, this poem will give you reason to pay a little more attention to
what's hanging inside. Gary Whited is from Massachusetts and his most recent
book is Having Listened, (Homebound Publications, 2013).
My Blue Shirt
hangs in the closet
of this small room, collar open,
sleeves empty, tail wrinkled.
Nothing fills the shirt but air
and my faint scent. It waits,
all seven buttons undone,
button holes slack,
the soft fabric with its square white pattern,
all of it waiting for a body.
It would take any body, though it knows,
in its shirt way of knowing, only mine
has my shape in its wrinkles,
my bend in the elbows.
Outside this room birds hunt for food,
young leaves drink in morning sunlight,
people pass on their way to breakfast.
Yet here, in this closet,
the blue shirt needs nothing,
expects nothing, knows only its shirt knowledge,
that I am now learning—
how to be private and patient,
how to be unbuttoned,
how to carry the scent of what has worn me,
and to know myself by the wrinkles.
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 ©2013 by Gary Whited, “My Blue Shirt,” from Having Listened,
(Homebound Publications, 2013). Poem reprinted by permission of Gary Whited and
the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 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. We do not accept unsolicited
manuscripts.