Hello everyone. I’ll admit, when I started writing this newsletter a few days ago it felt like I was going through the motions, dragging myself along, one word after the next, tired but realistic. I had my list of announcements that I saved up to share with you, because it’s part of my job to sit down and let you know what I’ve been up to. My livelihood depends on it. But every day is broken by what’s happening in Gaza and beyond. I witness the atrocities unfolding around the world by reading, responding, and grieving. So often, nothing else feels like it matters. How could it? This horrific killing, the death of the earth, the ceaseless slaughter of women, children and civilians, humans repeating our cruel cycle…
I imagine that this is all weighing on you as well. We’re in it together, here on the page in February 2024, as I talk about poetry and classes, and the privilege of life as I know it. It doesn’t make sense to me, the way of our world, and each day I wonder how we’ll join together to shift this story.
I say to myself keep with it. Connect about it. We have to stay engaged. These were the only uplifting words I had for us today, but then I went to a poetry reading and everything changed. A friend asked me where can we grieve together? Poetry is my answer.
Last night, I sat by myself in the middle of the audience at Next Chapter Books and listened to Detroit poets La Shaun phoenix Moore, Justin Rogers, and Nandi Comer. Surrounded by community, by people I’m honored to work with, I wept and felt the deepest feelings. In their words, I found a way to reconcile with pain, I found release for my grief, I leaned into the safe place of poetry where we’re allowed to unfurl vulnerably together.
Poetry brings me to life, not just with tears and nourishment, but with acceptance and awe. What magic words can do! How worthy is the effort of the ones who take the time to craft each line and share it! I woke up and immediately found heaviness again, but then I opened Ross Gay’s Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude and let my heaviness bloom with glorious detail. Poetry doesn’t ask us to turn away from horror or hurt, it allows even the worst parts of existence to appear threaded with beauty and joy. Poetry shows us the bridges between all of it and then some. It’s a relief and I love that after all these years I can still be surprised by its power.
I’m back home in Detroit, doing my best as I try to settle into a rhythm, still yearning for a deep winter pause and not quite sure when I’ll get it. I’m teaching again with InsideOut, grateful to be in classrooms around the city and excited to witness students in their states of creative expression. This is where I always find hope and joy. They’re already writing such beautiful poems about the natural world and every session I feel so lucky to have access to them. Come spring, they’ll see their work in print and we’ll plant trees to commemorate their effort. I love this job so much. It constantly challenges me in new ways and although I’m the teacher, I’m learning every step of the way.
My trip out west was perfect and I’m grateful to everyone who made it so. Such beautiful gatherings of people, packed readings at my favorite bookstores, and many moments of California connection that I’ll cherish always. Everything went so smoothly and I find myself still awash in a sense of huge relief. Thank you to everyone who continues to support A Year in Practice. One reader said to me that “it’s the new Artist’s Way” and I’ll let that massive compliment charge me up for many moons.
Omega Institute – The Power of Radical Imagination
My biggest announcement this month is that I’ll be teaching at Omega Institute for Holistic Studies this spring. May 24-26, I’ll join Valerie June Hockett, Ayesha Ophelia, and Sarah Walko at Omega for our special retreat The Power of Radical Imagination. This three-day group experience in Rhinebeck, NY is designed to deepen your relationship with nature and cultivate positive change as we embody new practices through music, poetry, art, and mindfulness.
We had our first planning session yesterday and wow, this is going to be one for the books. The retreat is many months away, but with this all-star lineup I know spots will fill up quickly and I want to be sure you all have the info! Please let me know if you have any questions after reviewing the Omega site. It’s going to be a dreamy time of embodiment and exploration. I cannot wait to share such a unique and inspiring journey with those who can make it.
CIIS – On Seasonal Practices and Rituals to Awaken Creative Expression
Last month I did a virtual event with the one and only California Institute of Integral Studies for A Year in Practice. I’ve respected CIIS for a long time and it really was incredible to connect with this community. I so appreciated the thoughtful questions and deeper dive into the impact seasonal awareness can have on us all.
You can watch the replay here.
Introducing: Personal Poetics – If You Really Want to Know Me
I love writing my newsletter once a month, but I want an outlet for writing that doesn’t necessarily fall into the category of news or updates. I want a space where I can share personal essays and spontaneous poems with readers who are interested in getting to know me on a deeper level.
Back in 2018, I created a zine subscription series called If You Really Want to Know Me with the intention of writing and sharing more personal material. In the same vein, I decided to create Personal Poetics, my new paid subscriber offering here on Substack.
My Poetic Updates are limited to news related content for a reason, as each one provides a boundary and purposeful focus for me each month. With Personal Poetics, I’m aiming to give a more expansive collection of feelings, self-exploration, opinions, experiences and emotions without the construct of news or necessity. These personal rambles won’t come on a certain day or arrive at a reliable time. This will be an untethered realm for my language to live and I’m inviting you to join me here.
When I created the zine subscription series, I needed to call in a new source of income in order to pay my rent. This time around, I need to channel some funds to help us get to the finish line so we can move into our home by the end of spring. Onward I go, writing and working, seeking support and offering language in exchange. Thank you to anyone who is willing to pay for my work, for those who already do, for those who always have. I appreciate you more than you may know. Be on the lookout for the first Personal Poetics post sometime next month. It’ll come whenever the Muse strikes.
I’ll leave you today with this poem by Ross Gay. No matter what, my gratitude continues to lead me back to breath and being. This life, hard and confusing, is also an incredible gift and I’m interested in that which helps us remain present with it.
Infinite gratitude,
Jacqueline