I’m getting ready for an adventure! Tomorrow I take off to New Mexico and Arizona for another road trip with my friend Kerri. (Read about 2016’s Florida road trip adventures starting here.) 

Along with my clothes, books, camera, sketchbook, and journal, I’m preparing for this adventure by “packing”:

It’s likely that I can buy any physical item left behind, but if I leave behind any of these attitudes, my trip will surely be the worse for it.

When adventure comes calling, will you be ready? How do you prepare for adventure?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Roy Scheele, one of Nebraska's finest poets, has a new chapbook called The Sledders: Thirty Sonnets, from Three Sheets Press. One of any writer's most valuable tools is memory, and this poem shows it being put to work to breathe life into an afternoon from long ago.

In Possession (Minnesota)

Something almost Flemish about that water,

a golden brown but clear into its depths,

the plank-ends of the dock a fading gray

beside it, and a boat moored at the end;

something, it seems to me in looking back,

about a murky bullhead on a stringer,

one of those rope ones you can hardly see,

so that the fish appeared to scull in place;

something (the details start to widen now)

about white wooden clapboards on the side

of that inn or tavern where my dad had stopped,

a neon beer sign staring out through glass—

late in the afternoon, I drinking deep

of everything I saw, now mine to keep.

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 ©2016 by Roy Scheele, “In Possession: Minnesota,” from The Sledders: Thirty Sonnets (Three Sheets Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Roy Scheele and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2016 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.

Does reading poetry seem hard or boring? Do you think you’d like to read poetry, but for some reason just can’t seem to make it a regular practice? April is National Poetry Month here in the U.S. and regular readers of Catching Happiness know that I like poetry and to force encourage others to read it, too, I  post a poem on the blog every couple of weeks. Every year during National Poetry Month, I also try to share simple ways for us to explore poetry in a painless fashion. (You can see some past poetry posts—say that five times fast—here, here, and here.)  

Reading poetry can be a simple pleasure, not an ordeal, or something that’s “good for you,” like eating broccoli. Consider these painless ways to add a little poetry to your life:

Downloading a poetry app, like Poetry from the Poetry Foundation, Poems by Shakespeare (Android), or Poems by Heart by Penguin Classics (iOs).

Or watch one of these movies with a poetry connection. (One lovely film with a poetry connection that was left off this list is Il Postino.) 

Watch  people reading their favorite poems by clicking here. 

Why not read a poem about happiness? 

And, of course, come back here Wednesday when I’ll have a new poem posted for you!

I encourage you to give poetry a try this month—and come back here and share your discoveries with us.

Last Friday, I accompanied Laure Ferlita and the Sarasota Urban Sketchers to the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota, Florida. This was my first visit to Selby, and I’ll be back.

The Selby Gardens feature a number of different gardens and habitats, including the Tropical Conservatory, a bromeliad garden, a tidal lagoon and hardwood hammock in the Native Florida section, and edible, fragrance, and butterfly gardens. When she died in 1971, Marie Selby bequeathed the property to the community for the purpose of creating a botanical garden “for the enjoyment of the general public.”

Our instructions were to sketch until 11:30 a.m, then meet to share our work. During this time, I never got farther into the gardens than the Tropical Conservatory, where I might have lost my mind a little after seeing the orchids on display. (My orchids are definitely slacking, and received a good talking-to when I got home.) Because of my mad photo taking and mind-losing, I didn’t finish my sketchbook page, and had to work on it later. (It’s not done yet, but will be soon.)

After sharing our work with the group, Laure and I stayed for lunch, then walked through the rest of the gardens. Laure  took photos for her upcoming class and I took them to use on the blog (Wednesday’s statue photo was taken at Selby) and my own pleasure.

Here are some highlights of the day:

From the Tropical Conservatory:

“Loving people live in a loving world. Hostile people live in a hostile world. Same world.”

So many lessons I’ve learned in riding can be neatly applied to the rest of my life. Take this deceptively simple instruction: Look where you want to go.

In riding, and even when leading a horse, if you’re unsure about where you want to go, or even just not paying attention, the horse can take over. You may or may not want to go where he does, so you’d better stay focused!  Don’t look at the ground (unless you want to meet it, abruptly) or at the horse himself. Look where you want to go. The act of turning your eyes in the direction you want to travel causes tiny changes in body position sending information to your horse, and making it much easier to steer him. (I’ve also heard race car drivers are told never to look at the wall—unless they want to crash into it!)

You can waste a lot of time looking in directions that don’t propel you forward into your desired happy life. Maybe you spend too much time looking back, regretting things you’ve done or opportunities missed. Maybe you stare at the blemishes in your life—the daily irritants, the painful experiences, all the stuff you wish was different. You might even be mesmerized by the things that scare you—afraid to take your eyes from them long enough to move head. I know I’ve turned my eyes in these less-than-helpful directions plenty of times.

So where should you look?

Look for opportunities. Look for someone who has already gone where you want to go—what path did they take? No two paths are identical, but you can often get some hints about where to go next from someone who has walked the path before you.

Look for inspiration, look for humor, look for happy.

Yes, you’ve got to back up your looking with action, but the first step is always—you guessed it—look where you want to go.

Where do you want to go? Are you looking in that direction?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Marge Saiser is a Nebraska poet about whose work I have said that no contemporary poet is better at writing about love. Here's a love poem from her new book, I Have Nothing to Say about Fire, from Backwaters Press.

You and I on the boat notice

the print the whales leave,

the huge ring their diving draws

for a time on the surface.

Is it like that when we

lose one another? Don't

know, can't. But

I want to believe

when we can no longer

walk across a room

for a hug, can no longer

step into the arms of the other,

there will be this:

some trace that stays

while the great body

remains below out of sight,

dark mammoth shadow

flick of flipper

body of delight

diving deep.

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 ©2016 by Marjorie Saiser, “The Print the Whales Make,” from I Have Nothing to Say about Fire, (Backwaters Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Marjorie Saiser 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.