A Brief Overview: Where the Book Has Been, and May Be Going
The book began to emerge in a workshop in 1998 at the Hudson Valley Writers Center in Sleepy Hollow, NY after I was asked to design and teach a combination of poetry writing and meditation (not a novel idea in ’98). It went reasonably well, no one got hurt, participants asked for a Part 2, and by the time we were done, I had an outline for the book, which appeared in print (arguably before its time) in 2004. I am amid a major purging and pruning. Stay tuned.
Interestingly (to me) I had begun fooling around with various forms of meditation in 1993, and by 1996 had a daily practice. During the weeks immediately following the request for a workshop, as my mind enjoyed occasional bouts of quiet while sitting, insights regarding how to use various literary tools as vehicles for self-knowing began to emerge—some of which I remembered, some I forgot. So, I decided to violate just about every meditation instruction I’d learned and began sitting with my notepad and pen at the ready. The workshop and the book are the fruits of that violation. Amen.
Meanwhile, here is a hybrid introduction—some from where the book has been, and some from where it may be headed.
Questions for the Poet and the Self
Every one of us knows the bittersweet moment that defines our having figured out or been told what needs to be done in a given situation, juxtaposed with our realization that doing it well will require some work and commitment. Our poet spills his deepest feelings onto the page, captures the essence of what may some day be a good poem, only to remember that craft requires more than mere spillage, more than pure emotion gushing forth. He then must choose between abandonment and embrace. Having allowed that within to escape and manifest in writing, does he walk away from the page, or do the work that craft demands: diction, metaphor, music, line, point of view, imagery, form, texture and always, always, revision? Re-vision, see again where the poem wants to go. Yikes. This is a lot of work. Is he committed enough to see it through?
As our poet may abandon or embrace this work, so our self chooses to address, or not, the work of life. Given miracles of matter, body, mind, soul and spirit, does she abandon or embrace her opportunities for ongoing growth and transformation? When will she be satisfied—from what perspective does she view the world, of what perspectives is she aware, and to what level of consciousness, if any, does she aspire? How tuned in is she to whispers from the future? Having felt the body, does matter still matter? Does the body still entice once she embraces the mind? Where the mind falls short, dare she explore Soul, gasp—and, gulp, Spirit? Is she willing to embrace her interiors and exteriors through an evolving awareness of her awareness? How committed is she to living fully—into and as her True, Unique, Authentic Self?
Some Prospective Responses
Living Poems, Writing Lives explores these questions and some prospective answers for both our poet and our self. Each chapter begins with a basic introduction to/review of a poetic device or concept: point of view, structure, line, image, metaphor/simile, drama, diction, punctuation, rhythm, revision, theme, texture, and completion. Readers who would like to explore any of these more deeply might choose from among the following titles, among others: Steve Kowit’s In the Palm of Your Hand; Robert Wallace and Michelle Boisseau’s Writing Poems; Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook and Rules for the Dance; Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux’s The Poet’s Companion; Robin Behn and Chase Twichell’s The Practice of Poetry; Kenneth Koch’s Making Your Own Days; Mary Kinzie’s A Poets’ Guide to Poetry; and Michael Bugeja’s The Art and Craft of Poetry. Each of these is unique; all of them have something of value to offer, and this list is illustrative, not exhaustive.
Each chapter then moves from the realm of the poet to the realm of the self, and explores the device’s or concept’s role in helping her live a conscious life.
- To what extent is she aware of who she truly is: when she expresses her point of view, who is behind her first- person pronoun?
- How does she structure her life around time, money, vocation, relationship and other areas?
- As the line is the basic building block for the poet, what are the basic building blocks of her life?
- Does imagery affect her day-to-day living, and if so, how?
- Has she chosen her life metaphors, or is her perception of life as a journey, a gift, or a war simply borrowed unconsciously from others?
- How much of the drama in her life arises from conflict that is beyond her control, and how much from conflict that she can influence or even eliminate?
- Is she at all aware of her diction—her means of expression beyond simple word choice?
- Does she live life punctuated by periods, commas, question marks, colons, exclamation points, or some combination thereof?
- To what extent is she aware of and does she attempt to influence the rhythms of her life?
- Does our self believe there is some underlying meaning, dominant idea or theme to her life story, and how does this belief affect her living?
- Given the interrelationships among these devices and concepts, can she recognize the overall texture of her life?
- To what extent is she able to see her life anew—to revise her interpretations of events when such revision serves her?
- Finally, has she ever reflected upon her life’s completion? How conscious of and prepared for death is our self?
Each chapter ends with written exercises and a brief discussion of some aspect of meditation. The exercises address both poetry writing and self-exploration; the meditation section provides simple “getting started” instructions for several approaches as well as suggestions for further reading and/or experience.
A Basic Premise
That writing can be an effective tool for learning about and understanding the self is a given—our point of departure here, a point perhaps best supported by the work of James W. Pennebaker, (e.g. Expressive Writing: Words That Heal). Among others, Ira Progoff’s classic At a Journal Workshop, Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way and The Vein of Gold, John Fox’s Poetic Medicine, all establish writing’s role as an exploratory, therapeutic, and healing process.
Although these authors, among others, approach the process from different angles and with various levels of intensity and structure, and whether one feels drawn to Pennebaker’s research-based programs, Progoff’s intensive journaling, Cameron’s morning pages, or Fox’s poetry (to grossly reduce each of them) they engage the writing process as a method to access the power of the unconscious, as a spiritual path to higher creativity, and as a healing art. Living Poems, Writing Lives travels a road both well paved and well traveled by these and others who have come before. It also introduces a new mode of transportation.
An Even More Basic Premise
People develop. More accurately, perhaps, people can develop in many different ways, and people can pretty much stay “the same” (in a manner of speaking). Given reasonably safe, loving and stable circumstances, some physical, emotional and mental development is for the most part “automatic” in childhood and early teen years; given any circumstances at all, once we’re into our twenties or thereabouts, further development is optional—coming about through intentional practice or in response to external circumstances (more often the case, and usually difficult or traumatic). The second half of each chapter, which deals with “our self,” offers an approach to using poetry and poetic “devices” as vehicles for intentional practice—consciously chosen for our own development and/or healing.
Once the second half of each chapter commandeers the poetic device for use as a transformative vehicle, our “self” is called to look deeply into the question, “Who am I, really?” Such looking requires a turning inward in order to explore both individual worldview and cultural influences, a caring, honest look outward that provides insight into our experiences, behaviors, and environment(s), and an ongoing recognition that worldview interprets experience, which, in turn, influences worldview. Our inquiry will consider the universal or absolute, as well as the more personal or relative realms—the latter very often the primary, or even the only realm of which we’re aware (and through which we filter any knowing we come across—whether we know it or not). Our self’s inquiry further includes a variety of intelligences or developmental lines, as well as various states and types of consciousness.
Universal Rights of Pronouns Statement
While I believe this statement is becoming increasingly unnecessary, readers may have noticed by now that references to “our poet” above have been masculine, while references to “our self” have been feminine. From this point forward, when those pesky, lovable third-person-singular pronouns are appropriate, they will be masculine in reference to our poet, and feminine when referring to our self. These particular gender assignments are completely arbitrary and have not been evaluated by the FDA, NOW, the ACLU or the FCC (thank God), and are not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any obsession, including, but not limited to, misogyny, misandry, or political correctness.
It is possible, perhaps essential, to navigate both the goofiness and gravitas of life with fierce, gentle intention and behavior.
Copyright © 2004, 2010, 2014 by Reggie Marra
All rights reserved.