how to fall in love with poetry {part two}

It's National Poetry Month, and each Monday, I'm sharing a few words about poetry in the hope that you'll fall in love. Today, let's get to the reading a poem part of poeming it out.

My life changed forever when I read Derek Walcott’s poem “Love After Love” in 2005. It was like looking into a mirror and upon seeing my reflection knowing I would never truly be able to believe my self-talk the next time I felt so damn lonely.

Because there would always be poetry.

Last week, I invited you to get into your poet's heart by being curious. Today, I want you to open that heart even wider by reading a few poems. 

Let's start with "Breakage" by Mary Oliver (though if you don't know "The Summer Day" or "The Journey" please read them both. Right now. I'll wait.)

Then go on to "Faith" by David Whyte.

Followed by "Forgetfulness" by Billy Collins.

And then "Early in the Morning" by Li-Young Lee 

And finally, here is one from me:

Yes, Just One
by Liz Lamoreux 

Just one? she asked.
I nodded.
But as I sat alone,
glancing at the menu,
I wanted to stand up and say:

Yes, just one.

Just one woman who has been broken open by love and sewn together by living.

Just one woman who has unearthed the stories she had tucked away inside the corners of herself.

Just one woman who holds grief in one hand and joy in the other.

Just one woman who hears the wind whisper the stories of those who came before her.

Just one woman who believes she must choose rest over expectations.

Just one woman who sees truth and beauty in her reflection.

Just one woman who swims with the whales while she sleeps.

Just one woman who cries when she hears Paul Simon play his guitar.

Just one woman who never thought she would be a mother.

Just one woman who feels cocooned by the push and pull of the sea.

Just one woman who listens for reminders to trust.

Just one woman who holds onto the hope of spring’s first crocus.

Yes, just one woman who opens her heart to love each day,
Even when it rains,
Even when the missing sets in,
Even when fear nips at her toes,
Even when it seems impossible.

Are you feeling it yet? The rhythm of poetry that lives inside you? If you're feeling a spark of recognition or even of something you can't quite describe, I encourage you to keep reading, keep searching for the poets who are just waiting to be companions for your journey. 

If you want to keep reading poems, here are some more favorites (be sure to also read the comments of that post).

"Yes, Just One" is from my poetry collection Five Days in April. You can read more about it and purchase a signed copy here.

GlobeIn Artisan Box

Recently, GlobeIn sent over one of their Artisan boxes and asked if I'd share a review about it here on my blog.

Moments like this are when I really do think to myself, "Best job ever."

When the adorable little basket arrived, I waited to open it with Ellie, because I knew she would love seeing what was inside.

And right from the start I want to tell you one of my unexpected favorite parts of this subscription box: No unnecessary packaging. They really are standing behind their mission to build a more positive world, and one way is by having less of an impact on the environment.

Everything that came in the box was tucked sweetly inside the basket with a tote bag folded underneath. And what was inside was a little feast for the senses with rice (complete with a coconut rice recipe), lip balm, delicious cacao nibs, and a little bamboo bowl. The tote bag is the perfect size for groceries or packages to take to the post office and books to and from the library (which is probably how I'll be using it).

As we looked at what was inside, Ellie and I might have had to talk about how the stuff inside was really for me, like my own Kiwi Crate box, and that she could help me open it all but that it wouldn't be going in her room. Though we're scheming up fun things to keep in the basket, from hair bows to notes that list things we're happy about. And I've agreed that yes, she can eat the rice and use the bowl. (Insert that wink smiley face emoji here.)

A little information about the GlobeIn Artisan Box. It's a subscription box where each month you receive a themed collection of artisan­-made products from around the world. The products are often organic, fair­ trade, and support artisans and farmers from around the world. Each box also includes stories about the origin of the products product as well as the stories of the artisans and farmers. This special touch of including the stories makes me so happy.

And these stories gave me an unexpected opportunity to talk with Ellie about what it means to buy handmade from people around the world. Because of my business and my studio in our backyard, she already understands that some people go to work to make things by hand for other people, but explaining how we can positively impact the world when we purchase handmade items wasn't a conversation I'd really had with her yet. She was so interested in reading the stories in the little booklet and learning more about the people who made these items that were now sitting on our kitchen table. It was awesome.

Here's the thing, when you have the chance to review something, you hope you'll really like it and you want to be able to be honest in your review. I want to share the products I love here in this space. The products I would gift to my own mom, to my closest friends, that I would want myself. And I'm pretty much hoping that Jon gets me a subscription to the Artisan Box for Mother's Day. For real. (Honey, this is a big hint.)

Special just for you: If you want to gift yourself or someone else a subscription to the Artisan Box, you can use coupon code LIZ for 25% off a 3-month (or longer) subscription! 

Please note: GlobeIn gifted me one Artisan Box in exchange for this review. This post is not sponsored by them and the opinions shared are my own. Links throughout are affiliate, which means I receive a small commission if you choose to purchase anything through these links. Photo at the top of this post provided by GlobeIn.

10 mantras to help you choose love

I work with mantras in my Soul Mantra jewelry line daily, but I also use these phrases as handholds that I can grab onto in the midst of my day when I need to ground and center myself.

A mantra is a phrase that you can use to invite in mindfulness to your daily life. You can also use it as a focal point for meditation, which is where the word mantra originally comes from. 

Three ways to use a mantra:

1. You can repeat your mantra silently to yourself as you breathe and let this repetition be a space for your mind to rest while you meditate. It helps you enter into the silence meditation is helping you find by giving your mind something to focus on.

2. You can use your mantra as a touchstone during your day. When I want to pause for a moment or two and reboot myself a bit using a mantra, I inhale and think the words, and then exhale and imagine all that I need from the mantra surrounds me. Then I breathe all that in and say it again to myself. Doing this a few times creates some space between whatever is happening in my life and where I want to be.

3. You can use a mantra as a journaling prompt to help you peel back the layers of how you're feeling about something. Let yourself freewrite with the mantra as a jumping off point. (Freewriting means just putting your pen to paper and writing for several minutes without stopping.)

Here are 10 mantras to get you started. These are a few I turn to again and again, especially when I want to invite in more love in a moment... when I know I want to choose love. 

I open my heart.

For the days when you feel yourself "armoring up" to protect yourself only to find you're far away from the beauty and joy that surrounds you. 

How I use this one: Crossing my arms in front of me, I inhale, thinking it silently to myself while beginning to open my arms wide and away from my body. Then as I exhale, I bring my arms back to cross in front of me over my heart. This becomes a way of telling myself that even as I open my heart, I can set boundaries.

I can set down this story.

For the moments when you feel the old stories threatening to take over.

Setting down a story that isn't serving in the moment (or at all) can be a very powerful practice. Notice when the old stories come up and see what it would feel like to relax your shoulders and set them down. Recently, I shared about one of my own old stories and what happened when I made the choice to set it down.

There's room enough for everyone.

For the times when envy or jealousy arise, and for the times when your ego pushes you to move from a place of scarcity.

I find this one really helpful for moving through social media and the feelings it can bring up. Let these words push you to remember that we all have gifts and stories and hearts that we bring to every moment.

You can rest today.

For the days when you're physically and emotionally exhausted.

Because it is much easier to choose love when you aren't tired. Give yourself the gift of even just a few minutes of rest when the grumps make it feel almost impossible to choose love. And rest isn't only for the tough days. Sometimes the really good times can cause us to feel a lot more tired than usual. Listen to your body. Let breathing in this mantra invite in rest.

I allow love to guide me.

For the moments when you need to let the people in your lives just be themselves or when you need to invite in more trust.

This is one to say with your hand on your heart. Breathing. Trusting. Letting the love that is available to you in every moment guide you. Allow is a word that has been appearing in my life for a few months now. It becomes a whisper that helps me feel less uncertain as I navigate the relationships and decisions in my life.

I don't have to be right (even when it feels like I am).

For the moments when your ego wants to take over.

I pretty much added this one to the list because I want to remind myself of how helpful it can be. This is one that comes up for me in my marriage, but I find it's beginning to come up with my daughter in the moments when I feel like I have to "correct" her. I don't want to be that mom who says "because I said so," yet the moments come up when it's about to roll off of my tongue. I'm also her guide who helps her figure things out as she grows, and there are times when I do simply know what's best. This mantra helps me navigate the stuff that comes up with all of that. (Something tells me our world would be a bit easier to navigate if we all used this one a few times a day.) 

Shanti. Shanti. Shanti. (Peace. Peace. Peace.)

For the days when you feel weary and worried that love won't win. 

During my yoga teacher training, hearing my teacher chant these words became a place that felt like home to me. Whenever I need to reconnect with the love, the hope, that exists in that space where one person can make a difference simply by choosing love, I chant these words. You can hear me chant them at the end of this audio love note I shared a couple of years ago. 

Know my truth.

For the moments when you know it's time to say how you feel.

Telling the true stories is something I feel very passionate about, but we also have to choose who we tell these truths to and think about the timing of our sharing. There is a difference between following a sometimes reckless need to "speak our truth" instead of sharing our truth from a place of love. This phrase, "know your truth," helps ground me as I make these decisions. While diving into my archives recently, I came across this post where I shared my "aha" moment about this phrase. 

I can let in more light.

For the moments when it's time to shed something that no longer serves you to bring in more light.

Sometimes you're simply shedding the stuff that piles up each day. Other days you might be shedding the belief that you can't allow in joy because you need to protect yourself. And some days you have to shed the words of others that swirl around inside you. This line from Leonard Cohen, "There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in," speaks right to this mantra. When we let ourselves open up to the beauty, even in the moments that feel impossible, there is always light. I use this mantra to connect with that light within and around me. 

I can choose love.

For the moments when everything from the annoyances of daily life to the big tough stuff you see on the news pulls you far away from feeling love within you.

Can you let yourself choose love today? Instead of wondering, turn this question around to a statement and gently whisper to yourself that yes, "I can choose love today."

In This Moment: Field Journal and Photo Album

 

I'm becoming even more passionate about getting our photos out of our phones and computers and into our hands. Ellie loves to look through my photo albums from my childhood, from when Jon and I were first dating, and from the trips I took before everything went digital. She also loves it when a new set of Instagram photos printed from the various sites I use comes in the mail and she can hold a photo of herself and put her favorites up in her room.

Printed photos are a way for us to hold tangible evidence of our lives in our hands. We can literally hold a piece of our story and then put it someplace to remind ourselves of the feelings, the true stories, of that moment.

And when we pair these photos with words that help us go even deeper into the story, we hit a frequency that helps us feel seen.

I really believe this is why I used to sit in the guest room/office in my childhood home and slowly, repeatedly, flip through the photos from when I was little. I was feeling seen by looking through these pieces of my story. 

That isn't to say that we can't feel seen sharing our photos through Instagram and Facebook. These moments of feeling seen do happen in real ways online. I love Instagram for the connection I feel there. And in the Facebook groups I use for my ecourses, I see real, deep connection happening when stories and photos are shared.

But the connection to the memories, to sharing these moments, can be fleeting online. And when we only share on social media, we sometimes forget to take that important step of feeling seen by ourselves that happens when we interact in more hands on ways with our own photos, with these pieces of our stories.

In This Moment: Field Journal and Photo Album

Helping you capture the beauty and realness of your everyday moments by printing out your photos + pairing them with words to share even more of the story is the reason why I want to get the In This Moment: Field Journal and Photo Album into your hands. It is one way I'm saying: It's time to stop talking about how we want to find ways to tell our stories and start doing it.

This field journal is a beautiful book you can fill with your photos and your words that tell the story of where you are right now. It is your reminder to see and to notice, to root yourself deeply in the beauty of your everyday life (even on the messy, rainy, tough days). The 27 prompts throughout the journal are the prompts I turn to daily, and they give you a place to begin. There are also blanks pages for you to come up with your own prompts and ideas.

In This Moment really is a mindfulness meets photography ecourse that arrives in your mailbox. You can actually hold it in your hands so it doesn't get lost in your inbox.

 

Previously, In This Moment was available only through The Gift of This Moment Home Retreat Kit. But I now have about 100 of them in my studio ready to be sent to you. You can buy it in my shop right here. 

how to fall in love with poetry {part one}

I've been known to say that poetry is a lot like cilantro. People really love. Or they pretty much don't want it around. Phrases like, "I don't get it" or "Poetry is just too confusing to me" or "I'm just not into it" are the ones I hear most often when I tell people that I teach poetry as a form of creative self care. Lots of people have the story about that one teacher in high school who made them read a whole bunch of poetry they didn't like.

And I get it. Some poetry can be really tough to understand. Or it can take reading a poem out loud once or twice to get into the rhythm of it. Or you might have to keep looking until you find the poetry that speaks to you. But what might happen if you tried?

Poetry is one of the lifelines I hold onto when life is getting a bit upside down. What do I mean? Poetry reminds me that I'm not alone. It gently pushes me to step outside the old stories and open my eyes to the wonder around me. It sometimes makes me a bit uncomfortable. It stitches my heart back together. It is a tiny lantern in moments of darkness. It is a lighthouse. It is home.

April is National Poetry Month here in the US and over the next few Mondays, I want to share a few ideas to help you (yes, you) fall in love with poetry. Or fall even deeper in love if you're already hooked.

Begin with curiosity

Think about the way a child walks through the world with her eyes open wide, curious about the world around her. Everything is new. So many questions to ask and new worlds to explore. 

This is how a poet walks through the world. A poet asks, "Why?" In fact I think a poet asks, "WHY?" in all caps because poets really are the truth tellers of our time. Even when that "why?" might be whispered because the world is afraid to answer, they ask it anyway. And then they write down what they hear.

Poets look at the big human topics life grief and love and loss and anger and rage and gorgeous wide joy. They put down the truth about what it means to not fit in and not be heard and not be seen in the world. Poets take what other writers spend pages explaining and say it in a few lines that can take your breath away. But we'll get to all this on another day.

This week, I want you to just open up to being curious as you move through your day.

Take a few minutes over the next few days and ask yourself WHY as you encounter your world. Look under things. Ask questions. Look closer. Describe what you find. You might even want to keep a notebook near you to write down your observations.

Doing this will open up the poet heart inside you.

Feel free to come back here and tell me what you find. 

*****

And if this idea of opening up to curiosity has you already excited and ready to put pen to the page, check out my ecourse Poem It Out, which dives deep into the world of poetry and shares juicy poems and prompts to inspire you to get the poems just waiting inside you out into the world.

the uneven line

I wrote the following words a few years ago as a guest post on a blog called Roots of She (it's no longer out there). I came across it again recently and the words rang so true inside me as I read them that I knew I wanted to share them here. Writing the true stories, using a prompt like "I ignored you," is how I water my mama soul.

I hope it inspires you to write your own true stories. To get them out of you and onto paper, even if you don't share them with anyone. We simply let in more light, create space for more joy inside us, when we tell the true stories, even when (perhaps most importantly when) we're telling them to ourselves.

And I'm pairing these words with two self-portraits I took back in 2010...when the uneven line was fresh on my body. When I was almost disappearing into the role of motherhood and caretaker. When I was diving deep into my self-care and self-love toolbox to feel seen. Self-portraits are another powerful way I unearth the stories inside me.

Note that this post is about my cesarean scar, which feels important to share in case it is a sensitive subject for you.

*****

For months, I ignored you. I tried to pretend you did not exist. 

But then there would be a pull or a twinge or a pain that seemed to come from the center of me and I would remember you. You, the scar across my abdomen that birthed my daughter. (That birthed me.) The scar across the abdomen, the core, the womb inside me that had housed her, connected me to her, protected her for almost 10 months. 

I ignored you.

I ignored the core of me that you decorate with your uneven purple fading to creamy pink line.

I ignored you. And with that decision I ignored part of me. I pretended you (we) weren’t even there. 

And I did this for self-preservation really. I had a job to do. One that involved taking care of a baby girl who would have open-heart surgery at four months old. And I had a business to run. And I needed to ignore you. I was focused on her heart (holding my heart together), and I couldn’t think about you.

Every now and then, I would talk about you, telling pieces of the story to a few trusted souls. Just here and there. Sometimes through tears. Sometimes through sobs, I shared pieces of the story. 

Then the day came where I told the whole story. Looking up at the ceiling with my foot tapping and my breath almost stopped, the words it really was trauma and why did this happen and they just keep telling me to be thankful we are okay but she wasn’t okay really and I fear getting pregnant again so much I can’t breathe poured out of me as my foot tapped on the beige carpet and I almost held my breath because if I didn’t the words wouldn’t all come out.

I told the story. Your story. My story. I told it as the space was held. 

Please don’t ignore me.

Those were the words you, my body, my core, my center, said to me as I sat in guided meditation listening after the truth poured out of me.

From this moment of listening, a practice was born: Breathing all the way down into my belly until you were forced to expand and move and we could both begin to let go. Five deep breaths in between nap times and reading Goodnight Moon for the twenty-second time in an afternoon and projects and quick meals and walking in the park as the dahlias stretched toward the sun. Five deep breaths all the way into my belly. 

I see you.

This practice was slow and often beautiful and gave me the gift of noticing all of me, noticing you, in the moments between all that a day holds. The layers between us began to shift and shed. But still there would be a twinge, a pull, a reminder that I might never feel whole again.

A few weeks ago, I thought about you as I spent a few days in the Pacific Northwest woods at a retreat with eleven other women. We were exploring poetry, photography, painting, and slowing down to be present in our lives. There were stories shared and moments of being deeply seen. And then there was the laughter. (There was so much laughter!) 

I laughed all the way down into my belly until my whole body was shaking with the silliness and the beauty, until tears of actual joy pooled in my eyes. Laughter full of so much realness and truth and sound that it shook something loose inside my core, inside my center. It shook something big loose as it tucked joy right inside my heart. And I thought about you as I stood in the kitchen of that cabin in the woods and listened to their laughter. I thought about how something I thought you had locked away had been awakened by the sound of joy.

In this moment, today, I stand naked in front of the mirror in my bathroom. I close my eyes and I hear the memory of their laughter, my laughter, and it echoes as it rattles around inside me.

And then I hear Maya Angelou when she stood on the stage in March and sang, “I shall not; I shall not be moved. Like a tree planted by the water, I shall not be moved.” I hear her just as I did as I sat in the audience and felt those words cloak me with a shawl of hope.

I hear her, I hear their laughter, I hear my own truth singing within me, and I open my eyes as I clasp my belly. 

There you are. You, the scar across my abdomen that birthed my daughter. (That birthed me.) The scar across the abdomen, the core, the womb inside me that had housed her, connected me to her, protected her for almost 10 months. The scar that houses trauma, sadness, and more love and joy than I thought possible (for me, for her, for us). The scar that runs across me like a river, as I stand tall planted in the earth, in my truth.

*****

If you're looking for a way to tell the true stories, my book Inner Excavation is one place to begin. It is full of prompts to help you explore your stories through self-portraits in photography, poetry, and mixed-media art. You can read more about it and order a signed copy from me right here.

you are not alone over there honey

I shared these words a few years ago, and I'm feeling deeply moved to share them again.

A prayer in the form of a quote from a wise man from my favorite show, The West Wing:

“This guy’s walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can’t get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, ‘Hey you. Can you help me out?’ The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, ‘Father, I’m down in this hole can you help me out?’ The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by, ‘Hey, Joe, it’s me can you help me out?’ And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, ‘Are you stupid? Now we’re both down here.’ The friend says, ‘Yeah, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out.’”

- John Spencer as Leo McGarry on The West Wing (Season 2, Episode 10)

You are not alone over there honey.

you have all the tools you need {a meditation}

An invitation to remember that you hold all you need inside you. (You can hear me read this audio meditation right here.)

Give yourself permission
to let this moment,
this moment
right now,
be just for you.

Find your breath.

Notice your next inhale,
then the exhale that follows.

Let your mind rest
inside the movement
of your breath
in your body.

Find the rhythm of your breathing.

Inhale,
chest opens.
Exhale,
shoulders relax.
Inhale,
heart opens.
Exhale,
feel the space inside you.

When you are ready
to return
to whatever your day holds,
know this:

You have all the tools you need for this day
and the next
and the next.

(yes.)

PS For more little reminders and love notes like this one, sign up for my (almost) weekly newsletter (where I also share stories of my real, true adventures in self-care and living with my heart open).