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

to conserve your energy is to collaborate. I find that when I work with friends or my publishers, when we make a project happen together and divvy up the tasks of editing, distribution, or discussing the possibilities of an idea, I’m not stretched as thin. I can rely on another person to bring their energy to the table as well. This doesn’t work for everything, and poetry is all in all a very solitary art—but when I’m able to share a part of the process with someone else, I tend to feel like I have more to offer my work in general. It’s true that having others involved might make things more complicated at times, but I’m also held accountable when there are other eyes on what I’m making. That feeling of accountability can actually help me avoid distraction, and I’m always looking for whatever enables me to be more available to the act of creation.

The Daily Ideal

One way I’m able to gain clarity is by checking in with my “daily ideal.” This has been a favorite practice of mine for years. The first time it came up I was on retreat in the desert. I asked myself to think about what I would actually do if I had an entire day of uninterrupted time. The answer was a list, a schedule of sorts, that spelled out the most important aspects of my day. The daily ideal is basically a set of guidelines that helps me remember what a perfectly productive day looks like for me. This ideal changes with time. I adjust it to whatever state of mind I’m in, and it typically corresponds with my dedication to a certain project. Ideally, I have boundaries set up so I can efficiently get to everything I need to get to in a day to feel satisfied and fulfilled. This includes things like selfcare, computer work, connecting with friends, and creative practice. Once I’ve refined my daily ideal to a point that feels good, I tape it on the wall in front of my desk and refer to it as I work. Sometimes the ideal is very lofty, loose, and fun. Sometimes it’s quite rigid, with set times and rules. This set of directions keeps me on track and open to the work of inventiveness. It serves to guide my mind back toward the things that matter most as I let poetry move through me.

Your Daily Ideal:

Use the Tools

I’m a huge fan of asking the universe for guidance, and I use all types of tools for this practice of inquiry. I have three decks of cards designed for divination, and I often choose a single card from each deck to start off my week. I’ll pull a full spread of cards when I’m in need of deeper understanding. This practice is really about intuition. When I read my cards, I do use the books that come with a deck and learn from the person who created the tool, but for the most part, I delve into my own understanding of what the images and definitions mean for me. It’s the initial feeling I get when I look at a card or read about it that guides me.

Strengthening your intuition is a tool that will help your poetic practice because your intuition tells you when a word is the right one to use, when an idea is worthy of your time, and when it’s best to let something go that isn’t working to serve your vision on the page.

You can even make your own deck or divination tool.

Bundle up your personal wisdom and

serve it to yourself in times of need.

Your wisdom is the wisdom of the universe—

we’re just star stuff, after all.

My friend Sacha Marini suggested that we make our own “bottle cap oracles.” She got the idea from her friend Sarah Brown. We collected old, flattened bottle caps for months, painted our oracle answers on them, and tossed the caps into little velvet bags that we’d pull from after asking a question. We each made our own books to pair with the bottle caps, further explaining our oracle answers. I highly suggest making your own divination tool because you’ll get to see what you think you need in periods of crisis or longing. These answers show us so much about who we are. I continue to pull bottle caps from the bag when I’m lost or confused.

You can use all types of materials to make your own divination tool. Use index cards, or cut squares of paper, or paint bottle caps—whatever feels best for you. However you want it to look, come up with a collection of supportive, Magic 8-Ball answers to questions that you feel would help direct you in a time of need. Let this writing be as poetic as possible. Here are some examples to help you get started:

Sacha showed me another method with an old dictionary, which I love. It’s a fortune-telling game of sorts. You set your intention, ask a question, focus on what you’re trying to see clearly, and flip open a dictionary to tell your fortune with the words on the page. Run your finger over the lines with your eyes closed and land on a word or a phrase. That landing place will be an answer you can decipher in a creative way. And you don’t have to use a dictionary; any book will do. Are you confused about where to live? Open up a poetry anthology, for example, and see how something like a Wendell Berry poem about the forest makes you feel. Take direction from poetry in this way and let it show you what you want most.

A Mountain Brought Me Here

I sat in my tent as fog shifted

through the gulch. I lit my candle

and asked my questions.

Where should I be if not here?

How can I best be in