My word for 2017 is PRACTICE

I am using “practice” in the sense that one has a practice because a specific kind of activity is regular and frequent (ideally daily). In other words: consistent, engaged and present with.

In which I am surprised by the results of my 2016 poetry plan

I was totally surprised when I started evaluating progress on my official 2016 writing /poetry goals. According to my mood related to writing in 2016, I believed I’d failed every goal I’d set. Turns out, I totally nailed it.

The girl with a fighting chance

Paying attention to all of it reminds me that I am of the world. It’s easy for me to live in my head. And while I enjoy retreating there — and need to sometimes because the world can feel too crowded — ultimately it untethers me in a bad way. I need to be in my body.

Snow geese with a side of Mary Oliver

They brought me the sort of joy I hadn’t felt in a while, and it caught me off guard. It seemed like a gift. Yes, I understand it to be a chance encounter that had nothing to do with me, but I came away from it feeling more dreamy than I had in months.

Curious and beautiful

It’s the episode in which I throw a bunch of tantrums and grow deeply resentful. It isn’t pretty, but it’s my stubborn process of relearning lessons. Like this: if I don’t claim my own space, I’m useless to everyone.

A poem in which the poet wears a red dress for the apocalypse or whatever

Here / trying to enact what they mean when they say Let’s cross over. / If I write about the butterfly you’ll think I want to be one But who are you

In the face of everything

Do you believe in synchronicity? We’ve been writing about gatekeepers, and this card appeared in my mail along with a deck of tarot-type cards I’d ordered: “The gatekeepers are gone. You are the one who will open the door to your dreams.”