I’m trying to return to a place of abundance.

As I mentioned in previous posts, 2020 was a year of immense output with poetry. I started the year with a goal of writing 150 poems and I ended up writing over 300. I also couldn’t stop reading poetry. It was as if my mind and soul and body were completely transfixed on verse in a way that simply wouldn’t let go, and nor did I want it to.

I miss that. And I know that all creative processes ebb and flow and evolve; the things that inspire us one day may not inspire us the next, and sometimes we go through periods of slowness. These moments are essential because they remind us to rest, to refuel and recharge. We can’t create from an empty cup, and that means we have to make time to refill our cups when they get low. (Pardon the very cliche metaphor; it’s Monday and it’s early.) I know, therefore, that I need to allow myself room to recharge. I just finished my masters degree last week. There’s no need to jump head-first into something that’s going to require a lot of energy.

So, I’ve been trying to focus on reading. I think sometimes a lot of writers forget that in order to be able to write, we first have to read. It can be less than five books a year, and it will still be enough to fill the cup. I try to read at least 50 books a year; this comes out to a little less than one book each week, and it usually keeps me motivated to check new books off my list.

Right now I’m reading two poetry books, one novel, and two self-help books. The first self-help book is called The Shadow Work Journal; I’ve been slowly making my way through it to try and deepen my own healing and growth. The other is called Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. I’ve read this book before (back in 2020), and it completely revolutionized how I view healing and growth. I’m rereading the self-help books I read in 2020 to try and retrace my steps back to the place where I my creative cup was overflowing. But I’m also adding new books to the pile as well.

Writing ourselves through/out of trauma is a tremendous thing. For so many creatives, art in general is an integral part of how we process the world and the events in our lives. I know writing has been healing for me in so many ways. But writing ourselves into healing is also just as important. And some people might say there’s no difference; that writing ourselves out of trauma means writing ourselves into healing, but I’m not sure I would agree (I won’t get into that philosophy now, though).

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. It was a particularly difficult one, although I’m not sure why. For several years, I’ve felt resigned to not only my miscarriages but also to the fact that I likely will never have children. That’s always been a disappointment and a heartbreaking truth, but it’s one I’ve carried for years. But yesterday hit extremely hard. I wrote a poem about it in my Sunday writing salon, and while it was cathartic to take the pain and put it onto the page, it was also enlightening.

In my M.F.A. program, a lot of the faculty mentors gave lectures on trauma and loss and how to transform such experience into literature. And one of the things that always stood out to me was how, even when we’ve written an entire manuscript focused on an event in our lives, an event of pain and loss, and the writing process allows us to heal, the events never leave us. My M.F.A. creative thesis was a manuscript of poems about my miscarriages, and yet I still write about pregnancy loss and infertility and the desire to be a parent.

This is what was enlightening to me yesterday. To quote a portion of the poem I wrote, “No one warns you that some hurts will always be with you.” My M.F.A. director used to say that “As a writer, I dream the end of things.” I write about my miscarriages because they were endings, but I think I also write about my miscarriages because within those endings were also many small beginnings.

I’m rambling at this point. Coming out of this master’s degree, I realize I have a lot to say. And poetry is the medium through which I want to say it.

Sonnets for Post-Divorce Photosynthesis is still being submitting for publication.

A Body Ripe for Talons is being edited and individual poems are being sent out for publication consideration.

My fourth poetry manuscript (untitled) is in the very early stages of development.

And my chapbook This is How I is being sent out for publication consideration as well.

This is my new 2020. Not just writing poems but getting them published. Not just putting together manuscripts but getting them published too.

Love and light!