Hi.
I’m Liz.
You may remember me — I used to blog here.
Life has gotten pretty crazy at our house of late. My husband’s been recently diagnosed with a serious illness, and he’s had to succumb to endless tests and a really gnarly surgery — all just to prepare him for treatment.
As his right hand gal in the midst of all this, I’ve had to let all the nonessentials slip away
That said, today is April 1st, the kick-off of National Poetry Month.
Last year I celebrated by writing (and posting) at least one haiku every day —
a practice that ended up being a highlight of my year.
This year I am committing to do the same.
It feels a little illogical, seeing as how I can’t seem to get to an ordinary blog post to save my life, but I really want to do it.
Writing a haiku everyday for a month teaches me a lot about poetry.
It teaches me a lot about my writing practice.
It teaches me a lot about birds and leaves and wind and sky.
And it teaches me a lot about noticing each sublime moment each day has to offer.
Which is just about the opposite of nonessential, if you ask me.
So, without further ado, welcome, I’ve missed you and happy poetry month…
long train whistling
as I cut this morning’s fruit —
to warn or beckon?
Liz, I’m sorry to hear about all you’ve been dealing with. You are brave and wise, I think, to commit to this April poetry practice, and I will be cheering for you and your family in a whispery way from the sidelines.
Thank you, Jeannine. We love whispery cheers…
So sorry to hear about your husband! I’ve missed you and wondered. Sending hugs and healing thoughts. Looking forward to your haiku this month.
I’ve missed you, too, and can’t wait to read all you’ve got in store for us!!
we’ve missed you, too, liz
also your poetry.
-annette s
Re: we’ve missed you, too, liz
Thanks, Annette. Feels good to be writing it…
You have inspired me to do the same, and I thank you for this. My husband just got out of the hospital after a week-long stay; his grandmother died this morning. Things are, certainly, a little out of sorts right now — too out of sorts to write a poem a day. But a haiku, I can do.
Please know that you and your husband and family are in my thoughts and prayers. Jeni
Oh, Jeni, my sympathies!
Sometimes life is a little much, huh?
I’m so glad you’re haikuing too!
Oh Liz, *hugs* I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. I hope the gnarly surgery puts him on the road to recovery soon. I can only imagine the stress it must produce and yet I understand the need to turn to poetry to center yourself. I look forward to reading what you write, when you feel compelled to write it.
Love this haiku, especially the last line.
Thanks, Susan. And yes to centering through poetry…
*hugs* back
I’m glad you’re doing this. Taking on a little something extra is sometimes just the sort of thing you need to feel like you’re still making progress, even when things are crazy around you. (Says the woman who invented “Brush Up Your Shakespeare Month” to keep myself sane when the sh*t hit the fan with my own husband last year.)
Oh, Kelly. You’re cracking me up. I absolutely could not have taken on what you took on but then, you are superhuman. Happy to have you as a sister-in-arms.
What Kelly said. I’m so, so, sooo glad you’re in for Poetry Month.
Yay!! Me, too!
xxxx
I’m sorry to hear you and your husband have been through such a rough time. I’m sending healing thoughts to him and love to you. And I’m glad to see you feel moved to express your poetry here.
Oh, thank you. At this rate, he’ll be better by morning!
I’ve missed your blogs, DeDe, but also didn’t expect any under the circumstances! But good for you for committing to something that YOU love – may it be a nice break from the every day “stuff” and maybe a comfort too. Love you.
Yes, it’s definately a comfort and silly of me not to do it.
So, here goes…
Love you, too, Marty…
May the haiku leave you stronger every day. Stronger for you, for your hubby, for your family. Here’s to the healing power of poetry and “each sublime moment each day has to offer.”
Thanks, Mary Lee. I have utter faith in the healing power of poetry. I really do…
Liz!! How sad i felt reading your words of disclosure regarding your tough times! And oh how remarkable your haiku amidst all of this as you bend and grow to go beyond friend and wife and become more for your husband than ever before! May his treatment be successful and may you both enjoy your lives together for many many many years to come.
I wish you both the absolute best!!! My heart goes out to you and yours.
Love, Michele (Tupper) Worthey
Oh, Michele, thank you. This is such a sweet note…
We are adjusting and full of hope…
In some ways, though, that noticing of the moments could be the most essential thing you do right now. Looking forward to the haikus.
d
Yes. Right. Exactly…
Oh, Liz. I’m glad you’ll be around and I’m holding you and your hubby and your girls in my heart.
Thank you, Kristy. We feel it…
And having gone through your own husband-scare recently, I know you know how powerful the community support can really feel…
Tanita Says 🙂
The whistle is beckoning you — to find a place that is small and still your own, uninvaded. Poetry is that place.
xoxo
Re: Tanita Says 🙂
Thank heavens, right?
Liz you and your husband & kids are in my prayers these days too. I hear you on the difficulty of blogging and the grace found in haiku-a-day. May it bless you this month in many ways!
Andi — you are inspiration to me, all that you’ve dealt with and juggled. May I be half as graceful…
Liz–you are the most find-the-sacred-moment person I know. I’m so happy you’re transforming those moments into haiku this month and sharing them.
You and your family are in my thoughts daily. Haven’t wanted to bother or ask, but please know how many good wishes and virtual hugs are being sent your way!
inspiring
I do not know what illness your family is faced with right now, but I wish you strength and luck. I stumbled upon this blog and so excited I found it because I am a 35-year-old mom from Rhode Island, who was given your book (All the World) several months ago and am so in love with it, my two-year-old daughter and I read it every single day. At the risk of sounding nutty, I have told my husband that I want to model our new great room (and our future really) after the room in the book in which the extended family is gathered playing music (babies passed from neck to knee etc. (He agreed and we’re going to get a piano and a stand up base so that we encourage that kind of family togetherness as our young family grows. My husband is very musically inclined, hopefully the kids will be too). And I have begun taking the baby to Farmer’s markets on the weekends, and always remind her that life’s a garden bed. LOL I just wanted you to know how inspired I am by your book, how much I love its poetry, and to thank you for bringing into our world. I have purchased copies for every Mom/child I know. My daughter has LOVED books since she was a tiny infant and so we read heaps of children’s book in our house, but none has touched me like yours. Best of luck to you,
Jennifer Beauchamp
Re: inspiring
Dear Jennifer… I don’t know if you’ll come back to my blog, but I just wanted to thank you for sharing this with me. There are days in all of our working lives when we kind of scratch our heads and wonder why we’re doing what we’re doing. You just erased about 12 months-worth of those days for me…
This is tender and inspiring, and you have a very lucky little girl to have such a present, conscious mother and a such a full-of-beauty life.
I hope, someday, we’ll meet in person so I can sign All the World especially for her…
Best, liz
I hope things are well, Liz. Your family is in my thoughts and prayers.
Thanks so much, Erin. The support from near and far means so much…
Oh, Liz
I hadn’t checked back in a while and then I had to read back through all the poetry. Backward, I ended here. I am so sorry for what you all are going through. I will keep you all in my best thoughts. Please let me know if I can help in any way. –Barb Cooper
Re: Oh, Liz
Oh, Barb. Thank you for this sweet note. I love that we connect and reconnect as necessary. We are doing pretty well and are grateful for all the good thoughts swirling around out there. Really. Lucky us…