AMusingPoet

2009-07-25T03:36:00.000-07:00

Road Tripping and the Garden of Eden

2009-06-30T06:19:00.000-07:00

One of my most vivid memories from the trip I took across the country in 1972 is my visit to an off-the-beaten-path place called the Garden of Eden in Lucas, Kansas. Built by Samuel Perry Dinsmoor between 1907 and 1928, this rendition of the Garden of Eden is a conglomerate of postrock limestone figures and structures that recreates scenes from the book of Genesis. After reading about this wonder in a trip-tic we got from Triple A, my friend Margie and I decided to visit. We spent several hours in Lucas and spoke to the curator of the museum about S.P. Dinsmoor and his desire to create a Biblically-inspired wonderland. Though tucked away in a small town and most definitely away from the hypnotizing hum of the interstate, visiting The Garden of Eden is still one of my most vivid memories from that road-trip in the summer of my twentieth year.

I’ve been thinking about how I travel through life and whether I approach things with a super highway or an off-the-beaten-path mindset. Like most people, I mix up my approach based on time constraints, sometimes opting for the fastest route with very few stops. But more and more I find myself preferring the slow-paced trek that takes me on the back roads and by-ways of life. I like eating in local restaurants as opposed to chains and visiting farmers' markets or browsing in antique shops. You can’t do any of those things easily and freely when you travel on the interstate. Besides, in that mode of travel it is about the destination, the time, and the speed.

But when it comes to the arc of my days, I am more determined than ever to take a back roads approach to living, stopping where I want, chatting with friends, and being available for a spur-of-the-moment surprise. I like to eat meals on my patio in total quiet and gaze at the flowers. I like to shop in farmers’ markets and chat with the vendors about where they live and what kind of tomatoes are best that day. I refuse to wait until whenever to relax and travel.
With every passing year I realize more and more the value of the experience as opposed to a fixed focus on a goal. I hear Tony Bennett jazzing in my ear as he taunts, “Are you having any fun?” Yes, I answer, every day! Taking the off-the-beaten-path approach to life is my preferred mode of travel. If I hadn’t done that years ago, I never would have seen the Garden of Eden.

2008-06-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

This spring I took an improv class with an amazingly funny and talented actor named Bruce Nelson. I have seen Bruce in several local plays, and always enjoyed his acting. The characters he has brought to life include an elf based on David Sedaris' memoir of working as a Macy's elf at the flagship New York store on 34th St. Because I wanted to feel a little looser in front of an audience -- I am studying drama in education -- I decided I needed some actual training in the art of acting. Improv seemed like the logical place to start. It's improv, right? How hard could it be?

I walked into the darkened theater, hoping to slip in quietly because I was a few minutes late. Bruce was going over the attendance list and checking everyone off. “You must be Ann,” Bruce nodded in my direction. I slid down in my seat and grinned as I slipped off my coat.

Eclectic is the word that comes to mind when I think of the 20-35 people who made up my classmates. Most of them were a good bit younger, and there was a mix of men and women, though we outnumbered the men by about 3:1. Bruce began the class by going over the rules of improv -- the first and most important rule is to say "Yes, and..." Simple enough. Whatever your partner says or does, you must say yes, and then build on it. Hmmmm, that could make for some interesting scenarios. I squirmed a little in my seat and hoped I wouldn't have to say yes to anything too outrageous. As it turned out, Bruce’s ground rules worked so well that everyone enjoyed the surprises that came along with our agreement to “Yes, and.” Surprises like creating 10 lines of dialog with only a beginning and an ending line….you had to make “I love peanut butter,” and “The pope would never approve,” work in your scene. Or create a relationship with a passenger named Zeb knowing only that you were in a car going to work and your name was Mathilda.

Thinking back over other theater-related experiences, I had encountered some improv before Bruce’s class when I went through the Creative Emergence Process with Michelle James. In this program, no matter what we did, Michelle smiled and said “Yes, and…” whenever we said “No” or hesitated with “But.” She even challenged us to eliminate the word but from our vocabulary and replace it with and….Try this exercise and see how changing your words can actually change the way you are perceiving the world. Saying “And” opens doors, affirms another person, creates a feeling of flow. Saying “But” on the other hand, shuts a door, marginalizes others’ opinions, and negates possibility. Just give it a shot for a day, and you’ll be amazed at how many opportunities come your way for changing your response.

“Yes, anding,” as we call it in improv, has had a powerful impact on my life. I say yes to all kinds of opportunities in the course of a business day. I think of this practice as being similar to following new roads on a map – You just might find your dream-house as you wander in unknown territory. I said yes to a friend when he asked me if I was interested in writing a paper on journaling in business education. The topic was somewhat new to me, and I knew I’d learn something. The real impetus was the possibility that the paper, if accepted, could land me a trip to Madrid and the opportunity to present at an international business conference. My inner cynic snickered a little every time I worked on the project, and my shining optimist won out and finished the paper on time, sending it off with grand hopes.

The deadline for acceptance notification passed. One day late, then three…finally, I got an acceptance email and celebrated with my co-authors, Alexei Mateev and Rick Milter. I thought I’d be presenting with Alex. However, about a month before the conference, he accepted a free trip to China – once he determined that I would be all right to present alone. “Yes, and…” I thought, “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Excitement mixed with some jitters as I realized what exactly I’d said yes to. Presenting a paper at an international business conference in a foreign country…..My shining optimist is sitting tight, patting my hand, and whispering, “Yes, and you’ll be fine. You can do this. How exciting!” I’m glad there is room for her in my carry-on.

Smile and the world smiles with you

2007-10-10T04:39:00.000-07:00

Here I am in Venice.....scouting for a location for "Journal Journies."

2007-10-09T15:22:00.000-07:00

I spent a week in Italy this past July-actually, I spent six days in Venice and one day riding a train to Trieste, looking around, having lunch, and coming back to Venice. It was absolutely amazing! To be in a foreign country alone, to be able to go anywhere, do anything, eat fabulous gelato, drink great espresso.....and all those amazing sights. Venice is truly a magical city-steeped in mystery, lore, and magic.

People ask me all the time, "How did you learn to speak Italian?" Well, it was really simple-one word at a time, practicing over and over. I bought CDs and listened to them while I drove to and from work. Actually, trying to learn another language kept my mind off of worries or anxieties surrounding my work as a special education teacher in a large, suburban high school. I also bought several books to go with the CDs and would read the dialogs, memorize the phrases, make flashcards......it was actually fun! I hadn't attempted to learn another language since college. Back then, I was fluent in French and I had taken two years of Latin in high school, so there were a lot of links already in place in my brain. I actually used my knowledge of French and Latin to help me learn what I call "baby Italian."

I could ask for food, get directions, buy things in a shop, order and send back wine, listen to the train announcements, and engage in basic conversation. People told me, "Everyone in Venice speaks English," but my experience did not confirm that. There were many people who spoke a few words of English, enough to make a quick transaction. But if you wanted anything more, you needed to speak Italian. So I used to say, "Capisco bene, ma parlo come una raggazza piccola." which means, "I understand pretty well, but I speak like a little girl." That was pretty frustrating for someone who is articulate and enjoys writing and conversing as much as I do.

So what was the point? Why did I go alone and why would I bother to spend four or five months learning the basics of a language for such a short trip? Actually, going to Venice alone was about overcoming fear. See, I had never, ever gone to a foreign country before where I did not speak the language. I HAD to speak Italian if I wanted anything.....and it was really empowering to know I could navigate alone in a foreign country, find all the places I wanted to see-except the Biennalle Art exhibit-and spend about 90% of my daytrip to Trieste navigating in Italian. Yes, sir, if you can do that, you sure as heck can quit your job and start a business.....

Seriously, my "one tiny step" approach to learning and my success in venturing to Italy alone gave me a sense that I could succeed at pretty much anything I decided to focus on. This past year has been a year of major change-I lost about 15 pounds and two sizes, learned Italian, went to school in Ireland at Trinity College, and started my own business. My success with things in the physical world-like losing weight and speaking Italian-has given me the confidence to dare to succeed in other realms as well. And so far, so good. I am giving workshops, I have speaking engagements, and I will be presenting at the Maryland Writer's Conference next May. Amazing....all I had to do was make a space....and that took all the courage I could muster. One line kept me going, "Leap and the net will appear." So far, the leap is grand!

Next year...maybe a "Journal Journey" in Europe. Lets keep dreaming!

The Whole Self

2006-11-10T11:59:00.000-08:00

THE WHOLE SELF

“You put your whole self in
You put your whole self out
Whole self in and you shake it all about.”
The Hokey Pokey
When I think of the long history of the self
on its journey to becoming the whole self, I get tired.
It was the kind of trip you keep making,
Over and over again, you pack and repack so often
the shirts start folding themselves the minute
you take them off.
I kept detailed notes in a brown notebook, I could tell you
when the arm joined, when it fell off again,
when the heart found the intended socket and settled down to pumping.
I could make a map of lost organs, the scrambled liver,
the misplaced brain. Finally finally we met up with one another
on a street corner, in October, during the noon rush.
I could tell you what I was wearing. How suddenly
the face of the harried waitress made sense. I gave my order
in a new voice. Spoke the word vegetables like a precious code.
Had one relapse at a cowboy dance in Bandera, Texas,
under a sky so fat the full moon
was sitting on top of us.
Give me back my villages, I moaned,
the ability to touch and remove the hand
without losing anything.
Take me off this mountain where six counties are visible at once.
I want to remember what it felt like living by inches.
You put the whole self-I’ll keep with the toe.
But no, it was like telling the eye not to blink.
The self held on to its perimeters, committed forever,
as if the reunion could not be reversed.
I jumped inside the ring, all of me. Dance, then, and I danced,
till the room blurred like water, like blood, dance,
and I was leaning headlong into the universe.
Dance! The whole self was a current, a fragile cargo.
A raft someone was paddling through the jungle,
and I was there, waving, and I would be there at the other end.

_Naomi Shihab-Nye
Words Under the Words
The Eighth Mountain Press, 1995

Naomi Shihab Nye is of a female poet American-Palestinian heritage who grew up in the American Midwest and Southwest. She came of age in the 60s and brings a fresh voice to the poetry scene. She frequently uses images drawn from Native American culture or draws on her multicultural upbringing to give voice ot the everyday and add freshness to the mundane. In this poem, "The Whole Self," Nye explores the journey of finding your authentic self. She uses the tableau of a journey where one finds various parts of the self while traveling and seeing things from another perspective.

When I think of the long history of the self
on its journey to becoming the whole self, I get tired.
It was the kind of trip you keep making,
Over and over again, you pack and repack so often
the shirts start folding themselves the minute
you take them off.
I kept detailed notes in a brown notebook, I could tell you
when the arm joined, when it fell off again,
when the heart found the intended socket and settled down to pumping.

Everyone knows how draining it can be to feel as if packing and unpacking merge into one long and arduous task. Yet it seems the poet is telling us that the only way one finds oneself is by engaging in the this particular tedium of packing and unpacking the self. What do you want to bring forward? What do you no longer need? What can you do without and what no longer serves you? Questions all of us must ask at various times in our lives. They are landmarks that sing our names; we know exactly when pivotal, life-changing events occurred.

I could make a map of lost organs, the scrambled liver,
the misplaced brain. Finally, finally we met up with one another
on a street corner, in October, during the noon rush.
I could tell you what I was wearing. How suddenly
the face of the harried waitress made sense. I gave my order
in a new voice. Spoke the word vegetables like a precious code.

Finally, one day it all makes sense. You may feel as if we have lost parts of yourself, then one day all the parts reappear, reassembled and you see yourself in a new way. It’s as if you have found that authentic voice, the one you have struggled so long to own. The one voice that only sings the key of self. The moment of discovery is etched in your mind like a precious engraving .

Had one relapse at a cowboy dance in Bandera, Texas,
under a sky so fat the full moon
was sitting on top of us.
Give me back my villages, I moaned,
the ability to touch and remove the hand
without losing anything.
Take me off this mountain where six counties are visible at once.
I want to remember what it felt like living by inches.
You put the whole self-I’ll keep with the toe.

Then you are slammed and feel as if being pulled back out with a rip-tide. Everyone has moments where they feel as if they have made absolutely no progress and are still the same, despite efforts to change. You just don’t want to see the big picture, you tell yourself. Just give me back the tiniest slice of life, a few moments at a time. But no, you can see everything, not just the inches. Which way of life is more comfortable for you? Are you someone who likes seeing the whole picture or does that equate with worry and loss of control? Are you more comfortable with just a slice called today, this morning, tonight? How much can you handle? This is an individual preference, a decision one makes after experiencing life from all angles. Go back to your comfort zone, but keep with the changes. They become comfortable soon enough. .

But no, it was like telling the eye not to blink.
The self held on to its perimeters, committed forever,
as if the reunion could not be reversed.
I jumped inside the ring, all of me. Dance, then, and I danced,
till the room blurred like water, like blood, dance,
and I was leaning headlong into the universe.
Dance! The whole self was a current, a fragile cargo.
A raft someone was paddling through the jungle,
and I was there, waving, and I would be there at the other end.

Once the wand of change has waved over your life, you cannot turn back. It is a new reality for you. Something happens in that moment of surrender. You begin to like this new rhythm, this new pace of living. It is exhilarating, like surrendering to the current, like finally learning the turns in swing dance, like skiing downhill and flying over the moguls, like raking in rhythm to your own inner music. It’s that moment of freedom that comes when one acknowledges the true self, the one who was always meant to be. It is as liberating and freeing as dancing. Enjoy, you have earned the rewards.

Until next time,
Ann

Sweet Darkness

2006-09-09T11:46:00.000-07:00

Sweet Darkness

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Turn to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.

Give up all other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

_David Whyte
The House of Belonging
Many Rivers Press, 1998

This is the first post in a series planned to introduce readers to accessible poetry. What makes a poem accessible to the average reader? Direct language, well-chosen vocabulary, and relatively short length are a few of the components that can assist new poetry readers to feel a connection with a mode of expression many consider boring, obtuse, and irrelevant. Perhaps the only poetry you ever read was in school where you felt bogged down with difficult terms such as iambic pentameter and had trouble distinguishing between open or closed rhyme scheme. You always confused metaphor and simile. The only poems that made sense were the story poems such as "The Charge of the Lightbrigade" or the silly, entertaining poetry of Shel Silverstein. But the world of poetry is vast and waiting for the average person to sit down for a few minutes and absorb the beauty of language chosen with great care to communicate simple as well as profound thoughts. It is my hope that many of you will resonate with the poems I choose and will begin to feel as much at home with a book of poetry as you do with your favorite newspaper or novelist.

David Whyte is a modern poet whose voice is as clear and cloudless as the sky above Crater Lake. He is of English/Irish heritage, has a background in marine zoology, and uses poetry in the workplace to assist people in affecting change in their personal and work lives. He calls all of us out of our routine slumber and directs our gaze to places we may fear or wish to avoid. David asks us to risk being authentic in an increasing virtual world. "Sweet Darkness" is a poem that asks the reader to enter the particular place of darkness that is calling to you now.

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

You see the world through your own particular set of eyes and your own particualr set of experiences. No one else in creation sees the world exactly as you do. Your vision is unique. But when something unexpected bumps up against us in life, then our vision is temporarily lost. We feel alone and engulfed by the surging energy of life. We cannot be found, just as we can no longer see.

Turn to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

Don't fight the darkness, the poet seems to be whispering. Just as our eyes grow accustomed to a dark place, so the dark place will make a home for us, will see our shadow self. No matter what our particular set of circumstances and our particular reasons for being dropped into darkness, we are recognized and loved. Think of the poet's metaphor used to describe this kind of night: your womb. A womb is a place of complete safety, a place where an innocent life can grow and be nurtured. A place to wait until you are ready to emerge, whole at last. A place of incubation, peace and rest.

You must learn one thing.

The world was made to be free in.

Give up all other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Here the poet tells us there is only one thing to know right now: you are meant to be free, to take your own particular place in the grand scheme of life. Have you been going through some life-changing event? Large or small, scale does not matter here. All that matters is that you realize your place in the grand design and take that place. Maybe you are called on to leave a job that is choking you. Maybe a relationship needs to shift or even to end. Maybe there is a geographical change to make or a dream that you feel has always had your name on it. Whatever that world is, it is time to take your place. Know that others have done it before, the poet seems to be saying. You can do this. Just embrace the one world that is yours for the taking, no matter how small or how grand. The time is now and everthing is telling you that.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

The darkness that has enveloped you has provided a place of safety and shelter to incubate your emerging self, to nourish new growth, or to give sustenance to your will. What is it in your life that has been too small for you? That has not allowed you to grow? The other question concerns a person. Who is it in your life that has stifled you? Who has placed you in a box that you have outgrown?

Life is constantly calling us forward to take our place and to be fully alive. What is that one thing in your life that is now too small for you? Who is that person you have outgrown? Maybe it is a role you have played that no longer suits you. Maybe you need to stand alone. Maybe it's time to become one with a partner. You hold the answer, the poet tells us. Just go into the darkness until you can hear the small voice inside and then follow its becokoning, loving hand.

Until next time,
Ann

Welcome To AMusingPoet

2006-08-12T04:54:00.000-07:00

Hi, I am Ann Bracken and I believe in the power of poetry to effect change in our lives. I am a journal coach, a poet, and a writer. I use poetry in my work as a journal coach; more importantly, I use poetry to look at my life and the world around me. People often wonder where a poet gets an idea for a poem. The answer is -everywhere! Once on the DC Metro, the voice on the loudspeaker kept repeating, "Doors opening.....doors closing" and that sparked an idea for a poem. Sometimes a headline will inspire me to speak to an issue in the world, such a peace, fear, or the environment.

One of my favorite places to look for inspiration is in the supermarket check-out line. Take a look at all of the magazine headlines and then imagine culling several of them into a poem. You may see a pattern in the headlines that speaks to you about an issue, a pet peeve, or an event. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Poems will begin to appear. Poetry - for an abundanza experience!