Life is poetry
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Dear friends,
I hope you’re all doing well and starting your week feeling nourished and rested.
This month’s By Hannah newsletter is about how we can cultivate awe. I am just as much writing this for myself, as for you. I’ve needed the reminder that we can still find awe in the simple moments, even through turmoil and challenging experiences.
The idea for today’s newsletter came to me while sitting in my mum’s garden, with the family dog on my lap. It was a crisp autumnal morning, the air cool, the sky clear of clouds and a radiant blue. I watched as the leaves on the trees began to curl, crisp, and pirouette to the floor. During this moment, I found awe in witnessing the changing seasons.
In her poem, It’s the Season I Often Mistake, Ada Limón encapsulates this feeling of awe, as she writes:
And today, just when I
could not stand myself any longer,
a group of field sparrows, that were
actually field sparrows, flew up into
the bare branches of the hackberry
and I almost collapsed: leaves
reattaching themselves to the tree
like a strong spell for reversal.
I’ve previously assumed that the only moments I can find awe are in the ‘grand moments’, like travelling to new countries, chasing thrill-seeking experiences, or witnessing rare moments in nature. But, as my practice with being with and part of nature and the present moment has deepened, I’ve realised this is not the case. This shift was also cultivated during my time at Plum Village, a Buddhist monastery in the South of France. I learnt a more embodied way of being in the world; one where simply being present with a cup of tea can invite awe and wonder.
If you abandon the present moment, you cannot live the moments of your daily life deeply.
Thich Nhat Hanh
I see living in awe as a way of seeing in poems. This notion was illuminated to me through the poet Naomi Shihab Nye’s idea that we ‘think in poems’:
when you think, when you’re in a very quiet place, when you’re remembering, when you’re savoring an image, when you’re allowing your mind calmly to leap from one thought to another — that’s a poem. That’s what a poem does.
When we pay attention to the world around us, and within us, our lives can become a living, embodied poem. A moment becomes imbued with meaning. The world is no longer simply a backdrop, but a co-creator. The seasonal shift aids me in this awareness of the world around me, perhaps it does for you, too?
As we arrive in October, the season of harvest, the wise women's traditions, and turning inward, I hope you find moments of awe in your day.
Wet tousled yellow leaves,
thick on the slate terrace.
The jay’s hoarse cry. He’s
stumbling in the air,
too soaked to fly
Perhaps you can share your moments of awe in the comments :)
If you are new here:
Hi, I’m Hannah!
I'm a writer & creative mentor based in the UK, a regular writing contributor to the transformational learning platform, Advaya, and work within the climate space focusing on fostering resilience amongst young people. I’m also a student of Zen Buddhism, an avid reader, and a lover of the natural world.
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Beautiful words ✨🙏