Practices

 

It’s become a practice,

This black-out poetry.

I wrote my first poem a month ago

And I haven’t missed a day since.

I’ve written at school,

In Florida,

In Charleston,

At the beach,

In Asheville,

At Starbucks,

And at home.

I’ve written one poem on some days.

I’ve written seven on others.

It’s a practice in mindfulness, really--

In being completely present with both the text and myself,

Seeing what words emerge and

Trying to craft them into something beautiful,

Or funny, or sad.

I’ve laughed.

I’ve cried.

I’ve felt happy.

I’ve felt sick.

Some poems have been autobiographical.

Some have been about friends.

Some have been about no one in particular,

Imaginary people,

But people who wanted to be heard nonetheless.

 

Sometimes we need daily practices in our lives in order to provide structure and routine.

 

Sometimes we need to make ourselves do things that we sometimes don’t want to do because we know that, in the end, it is good for us.

 

What practices do you have in your life? What structures and routines have you adopted to carry you through your days?

 

Practices can come and practices can go. But practices need to be in place to help us grow.

 

Dear God: Help us to adopt practices that grow us spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. Amen.