A Horsewoman for Harlan by Barbara Goss (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

commend it and share its perfection:

To Let This Land Be My Cape

I stand before the green valley

and hear it say: you belong,

this is the place that fits you.

I searched for years to find

the right ravine. I traveled

the country testing canyons,

listening to the ground,

calling on rest and refuge.

Now, a hawk hangs above me

and my body is a stone

among the swaying trees.

I memorize the cakes of light

that make their way

through the canopy.

My knees are stained with mud

from spontaneous prayer

and I watch the rolling fog arrive.

I have everything I need—

it is wet and wonderfully heavy.

POETIC MINOSET TIP

FIND JOY EVERYWHERE

Most days offer a hint of something to rejoice in. Even if it’s just a small cloud floating on the horizon or one kind word from a stranger on the bus, this is a drop of pleasure, and that’s all that’s needed for a poem to bloom in your mind. A way to ignite this type of thinking is by making lists of things that you like. My book Go Ahead & Like It describes this practice. Writing down lists of the particular things that I find noteworthy, the beautiful aspects of the commonplace, the little incidents that stand out in a day, changes my perspective and reminds me there are countless components that add up to create my enjoyable life. From the smallest things, like soft cotton sheets, perfectly ripe apricots, and a favorite song on the radio as I sit in traffic, to the monumental moments of celebration, they all combine to catalyze my ongoing satisfaction. My lists of likes simply reinforce and remind me of my human ability to uncover joy.

chapter 9

LISTENING TO THE POETIC UNIVERSE

The words boil out of me,

coil after coil of sinuous possibility.

The cosmos unravels from my mouth ...

—MARGARET ATWOOD

When I’m confused, when I can’t decide which way to go when I’m looking for renewal and nothing makes sense, I turn to poetry. I fill up notebooks with rambling lines. I read the work of poets who were lost and found their way through writing. I filter my thoughts and options with logic and with unlimited compassion for the complexity of being alive. It’s often hard to figure out the best move. I give myself permission to be lost sometimes, and in such moments, typically dark and hard, I can count on my connection to the universe at large to be a guiding light.

When I say “the universe,” I’m talking about some kind of higher power. God, Goddess, the swirling magic of the cosmos, the Great Unknown, the Almighty Mystery, Consciousness, the force that exists behind the intricate perfection and elaborate chaos that are creation, the whole wild mess that puts atoms in their place, the sacred science of being, the miraculous human brain, the Spirit inside of it all—whatever it looks like to you, whatever you call it, it’s this source that I connect with when I’m trying my best to follow some kind of lead in the dark.

As someone with immense privilege, my choices can be limitless. How do I make the best decisions for myself, for my career, and my relationships? What tools can I use to make these choices? Each day brings a new question—which step to take, which direction makes sense for me—and I’ve found the best way to sift through all of the questions is to create a practice around it.

Every morning and every evening I sit at an altar to get myself grounded. I light candles, burn sweetsmelling plants, sing and hum, write in my journal, ask my questions, listen to the silence around me, and look deep within my own mind. For years I’ve dedicated myself to this ritual; I never miss it, not even when I travel. My altar and the time I spend there every day allows me to find coherence. When I search for clarity, I’m reminded to redefine my purpose, to sharpen my reasons for being here on earth, and when I remember what it is that moves me most, there’s always a poem there in one form or another.

POETNG IS

AN

OFFERING OF CLARITY.

How to Fall in Love with Yourself

Sit in front of two candles,

one for each eye.

Light them and watch how the fire

takes its time with the wicks, nearly dying,

touching wax and climbing back into air

with a wave of hot yes.

Now, breathe each flame into the crown

of your head. There is a hole there

where elements can enter.

Your skull is a cup, hungry for light.

Close your eyes and let

this glowing gift travel throughout

your entire body, take it down

slowly, like a dose of brilliant honey.

See how you overflow?

See how you do magic?

The warmth is red. It’s white, orange,

blue and green. It touches every

part of you and when

the tailbone starts snaking,

when you become a tree,

you will love yourself completely

for burning with such ease.

EXERCISES FOR LISTENING TO THE UNIVERSE

HOW TO TAKE CARE SO YOU CAN HEAR IT

The surrender it takes even to ask for help is a type of poetry: saying yes to diving deeper. When we choose to care for ourselves and build a practice around this care, we open up to new possibilities of creativity. My altar is also the space I go to if I’m experiencing some kind of blockage. Some might refer to this as writer’s block. If I’m ever blocked, it’s not because I don’t know what to write; it’s more than that. It’s that I haven’t given myself the time or space it takes to figure out what I’m actually feeling. There’s a recipe for moving through this barrier. In order to fully tune in to the universe, to clear my blockages and be open enough for the muse to enter, I have to make room