My Yoga: This must be what they meant when they said "beginner's mind"

Photo from my first yoga teacher training -- courtesy of Samadhi Center for Yoga

In a lot of ways, I am starting over in my yoga practice. The going has been really slow and the work this time has been much harder than it’s ever been. It’s taking me longer to get my strength back and so many other things that come along with the practice. But, this is the first time I’m coming to my mat happy to experience the tiny changes that occur, the inner strengthening and alignment, the opening and the improvements that are so slight I could miss them if I was not paying attention. This is the first time I’ve had the patience to just experience those changes and not worry about where I am or should be going next.

Earlier this year, or maybe late last year, I came back to my mat after not really practicing for years. My body was stiff and sore and stagnant. I was embarrassed and angry with myself. While I wasn’t where I had started when I first began a yoga practice in the early 2000s, I had lost a lot of the flexibility and openness I had worked for. Essentially, now, I have to work as if I am a beginner. I consider that a boon.

I think that working as a beginner is probably how we should always come to the mat. As a beginner, we are more prone to be in a state of observation and interest, rather than of doing or accomplishment or just getting it done. I don’t know how long it would have taken me to be able to get into this mindset if I wasn’t kind of forced like I am right now to start again and work with my body in its present state. I think that this beginner’s mind is important and it is much more compassionate than a judicial mind, which nitpicks a soft belly, and an inability to do superhero poses. ;)

Every time I step onto my mat, I have to remind myself that this is where my body is right now. There is only what I can do right now. That’s all I have. …and just in the showing up, even when there are poses I can’t do (which is probably most of the time), even when there are frustrations, tears, and often, feelings of wanting to run out of the room, I come back to my breath. I come back to my breath because I know that this is also how I must live my life. I show up. I do what I can. I breathe. I see the possibilities and I don’t beat myself up because when I return, I can do more and if not, I do what I can again. I breathe again. . . .

The changes from my practice have been so subtle but they have been integral to a solid foundation. You hear that word a lot in yoga classes. There’s good reason, too. Would you build a house on a foundation that might fail? You might, but there would certainly be problems down the road. I am currently interested in building a strong foundation and I am enjoying putting together that part of my house.

Is it highfalutin to post a short history of your writing life or even your MFA entrance essay on Blogger?

A mess of writing stuff. Photo by Tameca L Coleman

I don't know if it is highfalutin, but a couple people have asked me to post it (that's only a little bit weird...but I still love you anyway):

Essay for Application of Admission to Regis

In my mid-twenties, I thought I was going to completely give up on writing. There were many reasons for that. For one, the way seemed hard. So many friends I thought were doing well told me this. Many of those friends have stopped writing, committing their work to boxes in their closets or hard drives. Some of that writing has been shredded, burned, or deleted – forgotten, in any case and relegated to the past.

I wasn't sure if any of my writing was any good. Sure, I'd been encouraged by my school teachers from grade school through graduation, but by the time I was twenty five, I hadn't much more to show for my writing than my own files chock full of juvenelia.

I had no interest at the time of going back to college (I had been cut from a music program because I “didn't fit in socially”) but the idea of higher education kept eating away at me. Maybe this is what finally prompted me to step foot into the Log Cabin Literary Center (now called The Cabin) in Boise, Idaho. It was a nice compromise and it began to fulfill this craving of wanting to be a part of a group of practicing writers who were creating, publishing, and talking shop with other writers.

At the The Cabin, I met many talented and accomplished writers like Annie Proulx, G.E. Patterson, Dagoberto Gilb and Janet Holmes. The Cabin hosted intimate writing workshops with these writers, and of course weekly workshops with a local community of writers who were at multiple levels of seriousness and experience. I loved this group, so I decided to register for The Cabin's writing retreat that summer for a more intensive experience.

There I met many more writers. I remember sitting at a dinner table with Robert Wrigley, his wife Kim Barnes, Lance Olsen, Joy Passanante, Billy Collins and others. I was mostly silent because there was all of this experience around me. I silently made a promise to myself that the next time I sat at a table full of accomplished writers like that, I would be one of them. I wanted so badly to be an equal rather than just a student (though, we are always students, I've grown to realize).

Since then, I've moved to Denver, a place where I have met many more writers in many different genres, many of whom I regard highly. I've gone to some conventions, picked brains, finished an undergrad where poetry and linguistics were my focus. I have even published a little, and some of my income is generated by writing news content, ghostwriting, website and pamphlet content creation and at times, coaching people how to write better. I feel that this is pretty good success but it doesn't necessarily allow me the time to devote to some of the ideas I want to explore in poetry, fiction, music, and whatever genre might fit.

I work with a couple of pieces of advice at the forefront of my mind. During my undergrad, a literature professor told us that we should all try to write everything, even if we fail miserably. I think that is how I found myself writing news. The opportunity came up and I thought, “Why not? I get paid to write and I can learn as I go.”

The other piece of advice came from Robert Wrigley at The Cabin retreat way back when. I had signed up for a one on one session with him. I needed to find out if I had any potential in writing poetry. He looked at my poems, which mostly were poems I'd written in junior high school, and he was very encouraging, very positive. I asked him about college, and he admitted that it's not for everyone. He also said “You go to school for short cuts and community.” ← This made more sense to me than anything anyone else had ever said to me about college. It was honest and has stuck with me ever since.

 I have a foot in many worlds and I have friends at multiple levels of seriousness and experience in those worlds. I'm always looking for the community, and to be a positive force in that community. I want to be able to promote that community and the work that is coming from it. That's why conversations I have had with staff at Regis mean so much to me. It is apparent that the program's focus is to build and maintain community, not just for one graduating class or even within the program, but more broadly. I want to be a part of that!  

* Here is another, older, probably better written essay about Why I Write from my undergrad. 

* Also, writers are assholes...or are they? -->

Gitz Crazy Boy, Bree Davies, inspiration, collaboration and starting where you are for social action

My neighborhood is now a "hot" neighborhood where buyers can buy "pre-scrape" lots, have the existing houses torn down to make room for homes that fit many more people into those lots for $300,000-$500,000 or more per unit. This is a drastic change that means current residents must leave in order to find new housing that is hopefully affordable. Of course, this is good for the buyers and in many cases for anyone who can sell during what seems to be a big economical boom in Denver.

One of my favorite and most transformative experiences from my time at the last Arise Music Festival was meeting and talking with a man named Gitz Crazy Boy. Gitz is a Blackfoot and Dene youth worker and environmental activist who fights a fierce fight via peaceful activism against tar sands extraction in his Native lands. He's been featured in the documentary "The Yes Men Are Revolting", and travels far and wide to educate people about what is happening with the tar sands in Canada, why tar sands extraction is unethical and destructive and what can be done about it.

Gitz was a panelist during a talk at Arise about activism and doing the self work necessary to create change. The panel moved along with an aim to instill hope for those who were in attendance. I -- and I assume many of us who were in attendance that day -- see a lot of injustice and foul play in our respective worlds on a daily basis. However, feeling a bit helpless and unable to voice what is felt, it is often difficult to see whether we (can I say we?) are able to produce effective and long lasting change that is inclusive of a much larger scope than current paradigms based on consumption and capitalism allow. I know that I yearn to see changes in an unscrupulous world that seems to be ruled by an ethic of discarding, not only raw materials from the earth, but people themselves. I also know that I am not alone in this yearning.

During the workshop, Gitz made the answer to the internal dilemmas I was feeling radically clear and palpable. "You need to get the ideas of deus ex machina and tech ex machina out of your minds right now," he said during the panel. He pointed out that we all have a choice: We can sit back and watch things happen or we can do something about what is happening.

Later that day, I crossed paths with Gitz on the festival grounds. I decided to shirk my usual social awkwardness and just walk straight up to him to if nothing else, thank him for what he said at the panel. We chatted for a good while, and during that chat, he reiterated a detail from the panel that didn't quite hit me until we were talking face to face. He said that all anyone has to do is to start in their own neighborhoods. It seemed so simple but I remember feeling lost and frantic, already overwhelmed. The comment was familiar. It ran along the same lines as the common slogan from environmental movements everywhere: "Act locally; Think globally." The imperative was evident.

I wanted to do something but even in that moment, I wasn't sure I had any power. At the same time, I was thinking about one of the biggest sticks in my spine about the drastic changes that are happening in my current neighborhood. I've lived here a little more than three years and I have seen the neighborhood change from a place where I felt comfortable, a place where my neighbors would greet and talk with me, to a place where barely anyone says anything at all (I have even been run away from in this new iteration of the 'hood). I have seen this neighborhood literally scraped up, its past residents bought or pushed out. It's uncomfortable and angering.

I thought that maybe I would write letters to all of the old neighbors that are left, ask them what they think about what is happening in the neighborhood, or at least say, "Hi." I didn't do that, though.

Three weeks after that panel, I admittedly was back to my insecurities about whether or not there was anything I could do. But then, I had a coffee meeting with a local writer a few days ago from Westword and The Colorado Independent. Her name is Bree Davies.

Bree and I learned that gentrification is a subject that flips both of our emotional switches.  We learned that while I have been taking pictures of my neighborhood and posting them into an album on Facebook, she has been reporting, blogging, tweeting, talking with people and taking pictures, as well. Our talks continued after that coffee meeting and then there was that question again: What do we do and where do we start?

Bree suggested that we put together a Tumblr showing others what is happening and what the changes look like. We'll include stories, insights, news blurbs, information, talks with people who are involved with these changes, and just about anything we can think of. We also have made this project available for others so they can share their thoughts, ideas, concerns, stories and images, as well.

If you are in Denver and the changes are disconcerting to you, if you are an artist who lives here, a teacher, a resident of any kind who is affected, we want to hear from you. We want this conversation to be huge and to make waves. Starting from where we are, we can make big changes. Let's rock the boat and let's start here: http://disappearingdenver.tumblr.com/.

I have poems at the Denver Crossroads

in front of one of the Santa Fe Arts District murals
"History of the Westside Community," by Marc Anthony Martinez, 2002

*****

Some time ago, Denver poet, Carson Reed asked me to give him some poems for his wonderful project, The Denver Crossroads. Below follows one of those poems. Following the poem is a link to more of them, and in the sometime future, there will be more poems from me for his site.

He takes submissions! Links for more info follow below!

*****

a strawberry field in Oregon, summer of ’96

My beau, smiling in the sun, 

cracking jokes in Spanish

never looked so bright, crouched in the fields
with his friends.

The ladies, too, wives,
buckets full already, gossip and laugh,
and I’m trying to pick faster.

My beginner’s Spanish,
my 1/10th full bucket of berries,
my wobbling ankles and lips already cracking;
no hat for sun, and clothes
too warm for this — I’m only 40 minutes in,
feeling faint and weak.

I’d like to taste
a berry, juicy, sun-warmed,
straight from the bush,
but I need water, shade,
and a bushel or two.
No time to pick for me.

I am a tourist here
and when the farmer comes
looking after the workers,
poking fun as they blink,
throwing a bonus of Taco Bell
to supplement a pittance, I turn,
lips quivering, tongue
sticking in my mouth, telling him
I speak perfect English.

*originally published at the Denver Crossroads

To learn more about the Crossroads poem, developed by Carson Reed, go here: http://denvercrossroads.wordpress.com

"Writers are Assholes"

photo courtesy of Steve Eggleston

The other day, over a beer and fried pickles, two friends and I talked about many things including writer's groups.

"Writers are assholes," one friend said, "I'll never attend another writer's group again."

The other friend agreed. I found that I couldn't agree, really, so I asked them to explain.

The one friend said something close to what follows:

"Every time I have tried to get together with other writers to work, they agree to the gatherings, and then pass out copies of their own work for everyone else to read and be really resistant to feedback. In fact, they just won't take it and then, they'll go on to mention how awesome their work is and tear everyone else's work to shreds for no reason. Sometimes the critiques aren't even constructive ("This sucks!). Sometimes they don't even know how to string two sentences together. It's frustrating. It's maddening."

I thought about this. I had been to some workshops like that, mostly as an undergrad. On the whole, though, I seemed to have had some really good experiences with writing groups.

I asked if I could tell them about my experiences. They gave the go ahead. I'll repeat them here plus some:

In college, I was president of a poetry club that a friend and I had founded. Sometime during the course of the year, attendants (of which there were no less than 10 every single week) asked us for poetry writing workshops. This made me nervous at first. I hadn't even finished my undergrad yet. But nonetheless, there it was. People came to our meetings, stayed two or three extra hours after so they could share their work, receive and give feedback. The workshops were productive, fun, and consistent. 

There were a few things that were very key in the workshops' success. Our poetry meetings were very inclusive. We'd invite members to present on topics they cared about. Then at the workshops we would gauge where writers were as far as receiving feedback went. Not everyone was there to publish. Some attendants wanted to feel that their work had potential. Some just wanted to write and share their work. It was our opinion that all of this was okay.

For me, meeting the writer where s/he was became pertinent. I'd ask questions to gauge like, "What kind of feedback are you looking for today?" and then continue when the answer had been received. I would mention what I  liked most about the work, favorite or strongest, most moving parts of the work and how the writer could grow as a whole (speaking while keeping in mind where the writer was). I would tell them colors or images if I saw them, emotions, things they could hold on to and recognize. The critiques were not highfalutin and this kind of workshopping became the model on which this particular group was based. 

***

I have attended a few odd or so workshops with some of the local slam poets. I was not able to attend consistently but I could see that they had a really consistent group attendance. The goal was to write performance poems, and really good ones, poems that captured the audience and won them. One of the leaders and many of the attendants were already receiving significant attention and had been working in the poetry community for a long time.

The temperature there was kind but it was not without its work. The workshops also felt inclusive. Attendants would workshop one poet's piece at a time as a group. After listening, they would take turns and tell the performer/writer what really worked for them, what hit them in the gut and the heart, what didn't, what was unclear, cliches, and on and on. No one left angry, as far as I could tell. Everyone was there for that particular goal. Everyone gave something and everyone gained.

***

I belong to some other writer's groups, currently. I work with a group of ladies who gather two or three times a year for poetry writing marathons, to share and workshop, talk about ideas, memories, stories, and to celebrate our accomplishments. It's always a wonderful time and we get a lot of work done. Between workshops/writing retreats, we check in and support one another.

I also sometimes attend other groups. I study formally in paid workshops with accomplished writers as well as have gatherings of my own to discuss everything from grammar to craft and reading. Sometimes I'll meet with someone once over coffee or tea. Sometimes, I touch base with an ongoing group, some of them hybrid on-line/3-D meetups of writers in just about every stage of development, some of them academic-minded, for example, some of them just getting started. Sometimes the meetings surround a small project or a fun writing activity like exquisite corpse.

I'm not really sure if writers are assholes or not. Maybe we all are. Here I am writing a blog post about something unresolved in a conversation I had with friends. I guess, for me, the key in all of this is knowing what you really need or want from a workshop. When you know what you need or want from a workshop, you can then decide whether the one you are attending works for you or not. You are allowed to walk away and make new groups or connect with others depending on those needs and wants. You steer the boat.

Lately, Writing Samples Can Maybe Look Like This

This picture is neither here nor there. It's just
a picture of some possible blog ideas. 

I just wanted to share this. It was part of an application I turned in for a social media customer support position in Denver. I'm not sure it was what they were looking for but who knows? Maybe? It's fun stuff to guess, in any case. I'd love any feedback should those writer friends out there have any. Peace!

Writing Sample

An Example of How I Connect on Facebook:

After a friend recently introduced me to a girl band from Japan that mashes up Japanese Idol-Pop with Metal, I started a conversation about it and I also felt the need to do a little research:

My Response to Seeing BabyMetal for the first time: https://www.facebook.com/sireneatspoetry/posts/10100178757630793

The Research: https://www.facebook.com/sireneatspoetry/posts/10100179147968553

These two posts also resulted in multiple posts on my page and shares from my posts sharing either metal bands from Japan, the US or thoughts about BabyMetal.

Blogging:

Self-Made Internships

An Introduction to an Upcoming Music Research and Outreach Blog

Meetings with Mentors

Reinstating an Anchor for Creative Writing Discipline

I'm Counting on My Word

Selfie with a blue Billie

Many years ago, I'd picked up Don Miguel Ruiz's book The Four Agreements. It was a recommendation from a friend, one which I deemed as a good one. The agreements were so simple and still quite powerful. Powerful enough even to write a song  melody and lyric based on the first agreement.

The agreement goes like this:

Be Impeccable With Your Word. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

Lately, I've made moves to make room for the work that I want to do , as well as the collaborations that have been forming. I've decided to follow a best friend's advice, "Just Do You." That means despite certain opportunities that I may be shirking, I am turning in and focusing on the promises I have made to myself. I can't keep promises outwardly if I can't keep them with myself. I have been having a hard time consistently delivering the kind of work that the projects I love and want to support deserve and part of that is because I have not been working on consistent delivery in my own life.

I look around my little apartment and I see the writing which has been started and piled on the desk but not redrafted, let alone sent someplace or being read by anyone. It's collecting dust. The dishes are piled in the sink. The laundry is unwashed. The room is a mess. The bill collectors are calling. . . .

I was reminded then of the song I mentioned above and I imagined, for the first time since its creation, singing it to my self. I'm keeping my word because I am counting on it. How else can I be happy with myself? How else can I be a success? How else can I have plenty enough and more from which to give?

I'm Stepping Back a Bit from Many Things, and This is Why

sunrise: downtown denver

Over the last few days, I realized something about myself that maybe I've always known but was never really able to put into words. I have this tendency to fall in love with other peoples' dreams. I get high on others' excitement of their dreams and I want to see those things happen with them. I get carried away. I want to be involved and be a part of a team that sees those dreams to success. As a result of this, I add everything I can to those dreams, often multiple dreams of others at once, until I feel pretty depleted. Lately, I have been flaking out on many things (and by lately, I mean something like the last five years or more) and I have had to ask myself why the flaking happens.

see. i wasn't kidding. this is saved stuff to sift through and to work on.

I have boxes upon boxes of unfinished work of my own in the closet; recordings (scratch tapes, drafts, poem snippets, etc.), journals, parts of stories, images, and even more ideas I haven't even written down yet. I want to get in shape, be able to travel, and create something meaningful. I want a windowsill garden, and to take better care of myself. I want to create substantial means for myself, maybe even a name in music and writing, perhaps in some other areas, as well. I would love for the writing and music and other projects to bring in some of the means I seek.

The thing is, I have been giving away most of my time minus the time I spend making a small means and sleeping.

I had been doing a lot of unaccounted for free and gift-based work for some non-profits, friends, and other artists in social media management and consulting as a way to experientially learn the trade since about last winter. I called this my internship and I was pretty happy to do all that work. I learned a lot, gained some trackable results, and even gained some references, as well.  At some point, however, something in me changed. I felt that depletion I've mentioned. I felt a little used, maybe, a little taken advantage of as the demands of this work increased. I wasn't sure why I felt this. I'd chosen projects that I was really excited about, and I'd chosen people to work with whom I adored.  I wanted to give my all. Still, the depletion. I woke up mornings with dread and simply no longer wanted to do any of it, especially after I'd figured out just how much time I was giving.

some new work i have been working on. nope. you can't see it yet.

Two or three months ago, a dear friend gave me some tips on learning how to bill. I considered this the next step in my internship, as I wanted to figure out how to market the skills and knowledge that I had been accumulating, or at least keep track of my pro bono work for tax purposes. I took out a notebook and a pen at the beginning of the month and began keeping track. I logged the projects and the hours spent while learning about how much people get paid to do the work. I learned that while my paying job took up about 120 hours of my month (which barely sustains me at present -- last month I deposited my laundry quarters into the bank to barely make my rent) my unpaid work added up to just as much time, if not more. Further, I was paying some money out of pocket to accomplish certain things required of the volunteer and gift-based work.

What I was doing was not sustainable. While there are many things I want to support, I have to really pull back and pay attention first to my own needs. I have to figure out ways to self-sustain and better so that I can have more to give without depleting myself or pulling the carpet out of the role of any project I may be assisting or heading. Further, regarding my own dreams: How much should I give and for how long before I can finally sit down and get to my own dreams? I have work to do but it can't all be in giving it away no matter how much I love someone, their project, their goals, their agenda, their dreams. <3 br="">

The New Poetry Journal

old poetry journal cover featuring some of the poets
whose work I studied during the course

It's been almost four years since I completed my undergrad in writing. 

Many friends from the program I attended have gone off and on to amazing MFAs, have published pretty significantly, or have become technical writers, content writers, slam poets of note, blog writers, adjunct professors, poetry award winners, and writers on the sides of many other things like myself. 

I feel that I have lost my academic discipline, rigor, and mind-set to the point that even keeping to a simple writing schedule has been challenging because of all the transitions of life. I think that discipline and rigor are important. Write, draft, write, draft, etc. and all the reading and living and absorbing that goes along between the writings and redraftings. . . and then of course there's the finishing and the sending off part (because too many of us never even try publishing, even in a world where publishing has become as simple as this blog post). 

Writing needs to be a practice. It needs to have some sort of routine or anchor. 

example pages from old poetry notebook featuring found poetry
and one of the poetry experiments form the class

I've been wanting to get back into writing in a disciplined way, with goals and deadlines, projects and brainstorms, research and more research. I especially have been wanting to get back to this work because I feel obligated. I make claims sometimes that I am a writer, a poet, and there are people who are asking me to either perform work or submit something, and there are still others asking if I might host a workshop, salon, or another non-sequitur exquisite corpse party. I feel obligated, not only to those calls and inquiries but to my own call which becomes an anxious one if I am not doing this work. That call trumps any fear that my work might suck or that it might not mean anything to anyone.

I wasn't sure how to start. I own more than 2000 books, at least two bookshelves of which contain poetry anthologies and chapbooks, books about craft, books about poets, books of letters from poets to poets, etc. It's just too overwhelming. Aside from the library, there are the local poets I want to keep tabs on, the poets from the hub of my home town, friends from school, and I of course want to keep up with and continually hone my own craft. 

In college, one of my professors had us make a Poetry Journal in one of her classes so that we could really marinate over poems and poets we learned about during the course of the class. In the books, we tried out poetry experiments, looked for and pasted in found poetry, pictures of things, pictures of poets, and works of theirs that we had copy-changed. We listed quotes that we liked from the poems, pasted in lines, stanzas, wrote our thoughts about them, wrote letters to the poets we admired and asked them questions, told them what we thought. . . .

a collection of favorite lines from some of the
poems of Mina Loy.

I have thought about that journal off and on since then. I have even posted a couple of things from that journal onto this blog with the intention of posting more (see "Accessible Poetry First," as an example). Things have been transitioning for me so I haven't been able to scan what pages I really want to include but I have many blank notebooks and lots of pens. 

Last night, I opened up Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey's book Thrall and I couldn't get past the two first quotes on the page preceding the contents and the poems. I was reminded of my old poetry journal from class, found one of my blank moleskins and made my very first little entry, the quotes, my thoughts about them, and soon, there will be snippets featuring lines that I like best, quotes from the poet, and perhaps even some of my own work as response. I am excited about this because it feels like direction. It's an assignment, self-assigned, and an anchor back into the discipline, an anchor of study that relates directly to craft.

Self-Made Internships are Still the Best!

I have always been a really big fan of the self-made internship. I have even written a couple of articles about it for college students ("It's Not Just a Catchphrase! Get Involved!" and "Starting a Club Equals Your Best Internship."). 

Over the last little while, I have been working with my friends over at the Shiva Mandir Center for Vedic and Yogic Studies, helping to edit, create and consult on blog content, and work on social media management. This has been quite the learning experience for me as I didn't know how much I knew already from my personal usage of blogs and social media. I didn't know how valuable these skills and services were to people, either. Also, I didn't realize what wonderful tools existed that I didn't already know about. Further, writing, editing, and even just reading the content that I am fed to post, has been enlightening,as I am very interested in Vedic and Yogic knowledge. 

I am also very excited about all this because it may very well turn in to some much needed work for me and because it utilizes skills that I both seem to be really good at and really enjoy. It also fits in to some of my other interests such as yoga, music, and even massage therapy. Further, I now have references for the work that I have been doing (and I didn't even know it could be called work until maybe a few months ago!).

I thought I would post a guest blog that I had written on the site, late January (which you can view HERE), as well as a link to the blog generally(which you can view HERE). Please check it out! There is a lot of wonderful information there, coming from many of the teachers and students who are in and out of Shiva Mandir. 

This has been one of the best and most rewarding internships I have had, and I didn't even know it was going to be such a thing!

A Quote on Living and Another About Poetry from Henry Miller

I have been looking for a quote from the Rosy Crusifixtion by Henry Miller that speaks to the point that writers must live their lives and not just write all the time. All I remember is that Miller was not worried (or may have been at some point and shirked the worry) about writing every single day. Living was important and he would trust that memory would serve him by acquiring the bits that were important to remember at any given time. 


It could be that the passage from which I crave quotes is close to this one (which is one of my all time favorite quotes, as I deem the words words to live by): 

"Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music--the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself."

Although I did not find the quote that I wanted, tonight  (and I'm turning in soon since I've been up since 3a.m.), I did find the following about poets and thought I would post it here for safe keeping: 

“Conditioned to ecstasy, the poet is like a gorgeous unknown bird mired in the ashes of thought. If he succeeds in freeing himself, it is to make a sacrificial flight to the sun. His dreams of a regenerate world are but the reverberations of his own fevered pulse beats. He imagines the world will follow him, but in the blue he finds himself alone. Alone but surrounded by his creations; sustained, therefore, to meet the supreme sacrifice. The impossible has been achieved; the duologue of author with Author is consummated. And now forever through the ages the song expands, warming all hearts, penetrating all minds. At the periphery the world is dying away; at the center it glows like a live coal. In the great solar heart of the universe the golden birds are gathered in unison. There it is forever dawn, forever peace, harmony and communion. Man does not look to the sun in vain; he demands light and warmth not for the corpse which he will one day discard but for his inner being. His greatest desire is to burn with ecstasy, to commerge his little flame with the central fire of the universe. If he accords the angels wings so that they may come to him with messages of peace, harmony and radiance from worlds beyond, it is only to nourish his own dreams of flight, to sustain his own belief that he will one day reach beyond himself, and on wings of gold. One creation matches another; in essence they are all alike. The brotherhood of man consists not in thinking alike, nor in acting alike, but in aspiring to praise creation. The song of creation springs from the ruins of earthly endeavor. The outer man dies away in order to reveal the golden bird which is winging its way toward divinity.”
― Henry Miller, The Time of the Assassins: a Study of Rimbaud

Further, as a sort of side note, the above picture was found with this blog which I would follow, were it not dead. 

Learning to Write Articles for Percentages of Pennies Per Page View Inspires Me to Keep at It

In Summer, 2010, I got together at Under the Umbrella cafe with two other writers to chat, become re-inspired, and glean some ideas about writing.

I had been thinking a lot about all of my talents and joys and I wondered how I could implement more of those things into my life. I have had more than fifty jobs because it is challenging for me to not become miserable when my interests and abilities are not engaged and of course, I have been searching for that job that is a joy and not a challenge because of the lack of engagement related above.

I had come across the Strengthfinder book and while it offered some really good insights about how I work best and how I learn, I still felt a bit lost. Most of my skills have been best utilized in my volunteer work with internships and non-profits. I enjoy working in those sectors because there is usually a lot of freedom there to explore, learn, and hone skills. Of course, the pay is not great if it is a tad above nil. A lot of CEOs at non-profits get a pittance if anything at all. Also, my work description, if it existed, was fuzzy and not backed by proper certifications so that I might move forward with those skills into future employment. This was probably mostly my fault because at any of those situations, I have usually had the freedom to at some level create my own position. I suppose as a writer, I can write that in, create the titles and such if I need/want to....

At any rate, getting back to the meeting: One of the things that I really wanted was to step significantly back into my writing life. I wanted to learn ways in which I might be able to make a little money with it. I'd heard that you can still make some ducats writing sci fi and romance novels but these are things that aren't too much of an interest to me, despite my attempt to write just about everything. I'd applied for a technical writing position and made it halfway through the editing portion of the interview, and when I became so bored to literal tears, I decided I couldn't go that route. I would pull every hair out of my head in grips.

The three writers at Under the Umbrella talked a bit about freelancing. I'd wondered if freelancing was a bit dead. Nonetheless, I seemed to know people who did freelance and at least two who did well enough to eat and have shelter by. One of those people was at the table.

I knew that I had become a fairly decent writer. I'd won some awards and scholarships for writing and have even published a little. When I wrote for a fellowship, despite the site saying that those who were not accepted would not get a letter, I got a letter saying that my work was worthy of some program, that there was no doubt I would do well in any program that might accept me, and that perhaps I should try the fellowship again with new material.

The chat at Under the Umbrella was a relief as well as a boon. Recently, I have been trying to fulfill the advice that I obtained there from the freelancer who feeds and houses himself with the work. The advice was a simple first step. Write a blog post everyday on any subject, about 250-300 words, before making inquiries into freelancing gigs. Write about everything. Write about products in your fridge. Write about books you've read, records you've listened to. Anything and then Presto (!) you have a portfolio.

I've taken the advice to heart, even if I don't make the goal of writing something 7 days a week. I have to keep in mind that I am learning, too. I want to write very good articles that are informative and valuable to readers. I haven't practiced journalism since Junior High School. Not everyone takes blogs seriously, and I don't even know if anyone really reads these things. The solution? A dear friend of mine told me some time ago about Yahoo Voices. It's a website which is very similar to Examiner or Yourhub. Anyone can submit articles to the site and there are varying levels of writerly ability there. I have been watching some very good writers, some freelancers, to try to gain more skills. I have also begun to submit to the site on a regular basis. I like the site even though I rarely make a per article up-front pay (and the most I have made so far is $3.02). The boons from the site are priceless to me, though. Even the percentages of pennies I earn per page view are incentive for me to continue. I am making more there with a writing exercise than I am on my blog and the possibility for an audience is increased by the nature of the site. Further, when I ask for up-front pays, I get very good tidbits from the editors who teach good journalism (ie using full disclosure, getting permissions, and nixing assumptions in articles). The experience is good and helping me keep my gumption up.

I'd suggest it to anyone who wants to try.

The Sama Veda: An Entry Point and or/Anchor to my Studies of Naad Yoga (The Yoga of Sound) and Sound Therapy Generally

Picture found here: http://www.indianetzone.com/32/jaimini_teacher_sama_veda.htm (July 1, 2012)

I told myself I would not attend any more schooling for a grip of time after finishing up my studies in massage therapy at the Massage Therapy Institute of Colorado (MTIC) but of course, I was only kidding myself. The very night of graduation, I attended one of a series of classes concerning goddesses of Vedic literature and shortly thereafter, I signed a contract for an introduction course at Shiva Mandir's Center for Vedic Studies.

I wasn't completely sure of what I was doing. I am obviously interested in healing arts. I've completed my massage therapy course and in 2006 I completed a yoga teacher training at Samadhi Center for Yoga. Somewhere in the last little while, I briefly studied with a Barefoot Doctors' Program (with the Tai Chi Project) and I have (hopefully emphatically) communicated my interest in sound therapy studies through The Denver Center for Oriental Medicine. I am very interested in Indian culture and spirituality and have been studying it on my own for years now along with other bits from many cultures, native and far.

I have even more interests than that! These are interests that apparently I cannot or will not give up. I am a singer (who hasn't had a regular gig since 2006 because of school, work and multiple moves but who intends to still write, perform, and seek out music), a writer (who has published in some small publications, print and internet, and who has won some small awards and scholarships), and I have an interest in linguistics, words, communication, and poetry. I began my college career with a full tuition waiver for music (Jazz Studies) and finished my bachelor's degree in writing and linguistics (minor). I did not pursue (though I may pursue it later) an MFA in creative writing because I felt that it would put these interests further on the back burner and of course, most of the MFAs that I could have obtained a teacher's assistanceship and stipend for felt limiting.

It's funny how we come full circle, sometimes. I was interested in music therapy only fleetingly in high school (I thought I was going to become a great jazz singer...and I may still do some of that) and the programs I looked at then (which were sparse) seemed very limited. As you can see, limitation is not okay with me.

The last time I tried to complete a degree in music (probably around 2009), I knew that my goal was to do a final project that involved music and sound therapy. I was very excited about the project and even had a wonderful adviser who lent what became the bulk of a bibliography towards these studies. She also gave me many names, numbers, and resources to this goal. I still have these things and hope that they will contribute to my studies and career (if this is what is indeed occurring, the development of a career) and I have been collecting other names and resources along the way.

So the point of this post? I attended a meditation retreat a few short weeks ago via the Vedic Studies Course mentioned above. I already had come across readings and teachers (such as the Sanskrit for Yogis course created and taught by Dr. Katy Poole) which spoke to the power and resonance contained in Sanskrit (and really, all sound, all language). During the retreat, this information was reiterated but also enhanced by the note that the Sama Veda is a whole book of knowledge about melody or sound. I was excited immediately because here is a study tool that touches on so many of my interests. Further, if I can, studying this portion of the Vedas could provide an anchor and starting point for me to stem off of which does not stray too far away from the studies I have immersed myself in to date. Further, Sama Veda seems to hook together the interests that before seemed so disparate and scattered.

I am not sure if I am taking a course far too overwhelming but I have already sent out a couple of inquiries about the study. My excitement for learning has been renewed and I am more sure of myself that I have chosen the right path for myself, even if the lack of certifications or degrees in certain subjects make me seem subpar, not serious, or simply unworthy of expertise.

Arguments for Writing Poetry (1)

I love this quote from Mark Strand's The Weather of Words: 

I is for immortality, which for some poets is a necessary compensation. Presumably miserable in this life, they will be remembered when the rest of us are long forgotten. None of them asks about the quality of that remembrance--what it will be like to crouch in the dim hallways of somebody's mind until the moment of recollection occurs, or to be lifted off suddenly and forever into the pastures of obscurity. Most poets know better than to concern themselves with such things. They know the chances are better than good that their poems will die when they do and never be heard of again, that they'll be replaced by poems sporting a new look in a language more current. They also know that even if individual poems die, though in some cases slowly, poetry will continue: that its subjects, it constant themes, are less liable to change than fashions in language, and that this is where an alternate, less lustrous immortality might be. We all know that a poem can influence other poems, remain alive in them, just as previous poems are alive in it. Could we not say, therefore, that individual poems succeed most by encouraging revisions of themselves and inducing their own erasure? Yes, but is this immortality, or simply a purposeful way of being dead?

The quote makes me happy, giddy, really and it also reminds of the following quote from Ted Kooser's The Poetry Home Repair Manual: 

Considering the ways in which so many of us waste our time, what would be wrong with a world in which everybody were writing poems? After all, there’s a significant service to humanity in spending time doing no harm. While you’re writing your poem, there’s one less scoundrel in the world. And I’d like a world, wouldn’t you, in which people actually took time to think about what they were saying? It would be, I’m certain, a more peaceful, more reasonable place. I don’t think there could ever be too many poets. By writing poetry, even those poems that fail and fail miserably, we honor and affirm life. We say ‘We loved the earth but could not stay.

I like adding to energy, and creating poems to the whole process of creation seems like adding energy to me. Further, all of this rings of some kind of spiritual and moral life. These things are also close to my heart. I live a life of some sort of spiritual discipline, hoping to add to the good in the world.


There are so many arguments that poetry is dead but I don't think that is true. It's not just these quotes that make me think that but the way in which I see poetry working in the communities around me. I see poetry as a healing conduit, a way that people connect, share, vent, transform, understand, make connections and build dialogues. Perhaps what is dead is the ego in poetry. The Poet's work is for all not just for one. I think it's probably always been that way, despite any of our initial hope and search for glory.