Simple Sensation of being alive
Here’s a little known fact about me:
my senior project in university was a collection of my original poems.
While other students were starting businesses, developing software, creating wine labels, and building wind turbines, I was describing mundane things in interesting ways.
At the time, I didn’t think my type of project would leave much of a mark on the world. Even now I sometimes question the importance of it.
However, every time I find myself enraptured by a poem I found on Instagram or a beautifully written social media post (platforms where I admittedly spend a decent amount of time), I feel my whole body relax and exhale into the extra-ordinariness of life and it feels like this sort of experience might actually be the point of being human; living in a body, in the moment, aware of where I’ve come from, where I am, and open to where I’m going.
The simple sensation of being alive.
It’s been years since I wrote a poem. That is, until today.
In a Business Mastermind I’m in right now, we had a special guest on our weekly call: Zafira Rajan, sensory story teller. As a part of her offering Zafira led us through a simple poetry writing exercise that I’m going to share with you now because I found it so soul-nourishing (and she encouraged us to share).
Not only did it help me get to know the other women in the group better, but it amplified my awareness of my roots and connected me with my humanity. It gave me that full body exhale that I love so much.
So I invite you to to follow the steps below to write your own poem and in the process get a chance to see just how interesting and unique you are.
Should you choose to share your poem with anyone (which you don’t have to) just know that you will be giving them the gift of knowing you a little better and cultivating a more connected world.
So if you’re in, here we go…
-
I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments--
snapped before I budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.
-
Go back to your childhood, your upbringing, and your life that brought you to where you are now.
Follow the format of starting every new sentence or thought with “I am from…”
Write stream of consciousness for 5-10 minutes and see what comes out.
-
I am from chocolate and fruit roll ups.
I am from the smell of freshly mowed grass on the soccer field.
I am from a large green field of children flying colorful kites in the air.
I am from Elmer’s glue and coarsely cut construction paper
I am from long road trips through deserts and forests while sitting in the middle seat of a sky blue Silverado listening to cassette tapes of Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood.
I am from the musty basement full of spurs, saddles, and a steep stairwell to great grandma’s kitchen.
I am from sparkly little dresses and the tangled hair of Barbie dolls.
I am from clear water and lane lines; Lycra swimsuit and tan lines.
I am from the creaky screen door on our travel a trailer, smoky campfires, and marchmallows.
I am from the sulphory smell of natural hot springs.
I am from the squeak of sneakers on a gym floor.
I am from the smooth white and black keys of a piano and the achy back from practicing with poor posture.
I am from boisterous family gatherings, cigarette smoke, full plates and full coolers.
I am from the record button on the boombox capturing a favorite song.
I am from sunset, stars, and mosquitos.
I am from the moos of cows in the distance.
I am from the backseat of grandpa’s car headed to the Golden Arches.
I am from muddy feet, Rollie poley bugs, and dandelions.
I am from a couch full of cousins all posing for the camera, waiting for the cake to be served.
I am from being told that I could be anything I want to be when I grow up,
and believing it. -
Share your poem with someone in your life. And if you’re willing, share with me! I’d love to read it.
Inspired by my poem to share: This is little me playing soccer on my first soccer team The Little Mermaids (coached by my dad, also pictured)
I gotta say, I loved this exercise so much! For one, it was just fun to do and it brought me back to where I’m from in multiple ways. But I feel like it also helped make clearer my purpose for (pretty much) everything I do, all I offer, and many of my life choices.
I am not promising this exercise will reveal your life’s purpose to you. But I can almost guarantee that it will be an enriching experience that helps you know yourself better.
This brings me to the final reason I loved this exercise so much and that is because it is in perfect alignment with a program I am about to run!
—-> It’s a 6-week program to help you cultivate your relationship with yourself. I am currently opening up a few spaces to be a part of the pilot round. If you are interested in hearing more and being a part of the creation process with me please click the link.
Cheers to the extra-ordinariness of life and full body exhales!
