Every Day Is a Poem by Jacqueline Suskin (manga ereader txt) 📗

this means I need to sit or to lie on the floor and go inward. Sometimes when I’m at my desk writing, all I have to do is close my eyes and stare into the darkness, and a vision will drift into focus. I’ll assign it to whatever idea is on the page, weaving it in as a metaphor that takes the poem to another level of potency. I also find that my visions tend to be healing for me, giving added value and explanation to difficult matters that I need to address. If we don’t give ourselves time for daydreaming, we cut out a huge part of the creative process.

Try it now if you’d like. Close your eyes for a

bit and then write down whatever you see:

Equally, my dream world is a mainstay for my well-being while supplying me with a lot of insight for writing. What happens in the subconscious mind as we sleep is such a wild mystery. I get a lot of knowledge about myself from my dreams and do my best to remember them. Like most important things, it takes effort. I tend to write my dreams down in my journal or tell a friend about them. When I do this, I remember my dreams more frequently. Assigning interpretations to my dreams helps me recall them more clearly. These vivid accounts are strange and full of symbolism, great collections of useful information that churn out from the recesses of my mind as I rest. I wouldn’t want to ignore or waste the opportunity to get a better look at my inner workings. Our dreams are yet another cosmic source that consistently contribute to the wealth of our self-awareness.

I often consider my dreams to be enigmatic

messages, and decoding them is an

illuminating, imaginative practice that

buoys a lot of my poetry.

Another way I access visions happens when I’m crying. Letting yourself cry on a regular basis is an incredible source of release, and with release comes a clearing that allows for newness to enter. When I give myself the time and space to cry, to really let it all out, I usually discover a meditative place in the aftermath, and here a vision is often revealed. As an empath, I feel the entire world, and as all of that feeling builds, it can get heavy. When I’m carrying too much weight, when I’m holding a large amount of pain that isn’t mine alone, I can’t fully access my own pure emotions. The way I offer myself relief from the pain of the world is to cry. I realize this outpouring of tears might come more easily to some than to others, but it’s important to try and break open. I’ll sit or lie down and tap into my sadness in a private space where I feel comfortable enough to unfurl freely. In the aftermath of my tears, I sometimes come across a fresh interpretation of a feeling or an issue, which I’ll write that down in order to remember it.

Little Notebooks

Just as I take a notebook on my walks, I have one by my bed for when I wake up in the middle of the night with a poem. I also have one in my car so I can pull over and jot down an idea when it presents itself. I have one in my desk drawer, and I have a larger journal that I write in every day. The practice of writing down whatever comes to you whenever it decides to come is a way of showing the universe that you are here to translate it, that you are available to let this mysterious voice pulse through your mind and through your hand onto the page. I review the content of these little notebooks when I’m focused on a particular project. I flip through them when I first sit down at my desk to write and source material from the notes I left myself the day before. I find that whatever I scribble down has some significance, whether it’s a simple reminder or something complicated that gets me thinking. Above all, these notebooks serve as endless inspiration. I’m never short on subject matter if I keep up with this ritual.

Treat Yourself

An important part of creativity is being kind to yourself. I find that if I’m too rigid in my practice, if I’m too hard on myself without reward, I don’t write as well. If I’m gentle with myself, if I reward myself at least once a day, I feel better while I’m sitting at my desk. This reward can take whatever form you need it to: a cupcake, a glass of wine, a break to spend time with a friend, a TV show, a bath, a cup of tea, whatever works for you. Just make sure to let yourself indulge for a bit so you can better reap the benefits of diligence.

Conserve Your Energy

If you want to lean in to the voice of the universe and pull poetry from it, you have to learn how to create boundaries and conserve your energy. Each day I choose to focus on specific projects, different friends, and chosen tasks. When I’m careful about how I use my energy, I make more room for the magic of poetry to pass through me. If I extend myself too much socially, if I don’t take care of my body, if I don’t give myself enough time at my desk, I make it impossible to receive all the lessons that come my way when I’m tuned in to the world around me. When I tune in with enough energy to spare, with a healthy body, and with adequate time at my desk, the muse has a good foundation to land on, and I can respond to her with my full self. By taking good care, I’m respecting the vigor required to fully show up for the craft of poetry.

One great way