Athena

You are warrior of kindness.

Your  courage is your sword and

persistence is your shield.

You bravely walk through life

and with  owl-like wise eyes

you observe and admire the world.

 

Embrace this wisdom:

don’t be afraid to spread the wings

of your own powerful potential.

Maja S. Todorovic

3 reasons why anything you write has value

quote_writingvalue

Probably you have encountered yourself thinking that what you wrote was not good enough, that nobody would like to read it, ext. And as writers we all have that moments. It’s so easy to let that moment overpower us – just let it flood us with self-loathing about our own skills and capabilities. But today I want to offer you a different perspective on your writing and tell that anything, any word you write has value and it’s not your waste of time.

I so immensely believe in the power of written words, our own words we spill on pages that I’m quite confident in the following statements I’m about to make:

  1. Your writing has value because it’s inevitable part of your own self-exploration and the way to know yourself better.

Each writing session is actually part of something much bigger, a pattern, a recorded reflection of you in particular moment in time. It doesn’t matter do you write a novel, an article, or purely stating your opinion and commenting on someone else’s work – it’s part of you. And anything that is coming from your own sincerity and open heart has value.

What you write at this moment doesn’t have to be perfect. Probably this exact information you are reading can be written in better style, using better words (especially concerning that English is not my mother tongue), but still you can understand the encouragement I want to give you here. And that is what counts, the message and intention behind it.

But this moment me writing this, leads to another writing moment, another blog post, another poem and inevitably we become more comfortable and confident in our writing, which reveals my second reason:

  1. Your writing has value because it’s part of the process where you improve your writing skill and you ‘calibrate’ your writing voice.

As long as you trust your authenticity your writing is original. The way you select and arrange words – especially in poetic writing which is so sophisticated, each time you write poem you are discovering your specific writing expression. It’s unique just as your finger print – you learn to use the words to best express your nature, personality, opinions, belief system and anything you stand for.

  1. Your writing has value as it teaches you to be more mindful of your thinking and stay present in the writing moment.

Each poem or paragraph you write doesn’t have to be approved by editors, experts or published in high impact journals in order to be of value. You write what is true and real for you in that exact moment. While we progress with writing, as it changes so do we. At the beginning of my writing practice I used to write long prose-poems, where I needed a lot of space and words to express myself. As mindfulness begins to dominate my writing lines, so my writing becomes simple and clear. You probably also can relate to this: compare your early works with something you recently wrote and you will see how your poems/writing is more coherent, straight to the point and purposeful.

These are my top 3 reasons why you should keep writing, each time you start to doubt and feel discouraged. There is no word, minute or paper wasted.

And probably the 4th and most obvious (and important) reason that I didn’t list above it’s because it simply brings you joy and fulfillment. Yet, I focused on another crucial elements that most people don’t recognize and easily overlook. These are my three reasons giving me that push I sometimes need to write and commit myself to get the words out there.

Trust your yourself – your writing has value.

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott


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Autumn

For some reason autumn has always been my favorite time of the year. Dark green, yellow and deep red are colors that always reminded me of maturity, contentment and that satisfying feeling of carrying enough knowledge and experience into the colder and darker days…

For the first official day of autumn let us enjoy these simple yet mindful words by Amy Lowell:

A photo by davide ragusa. unsplash.com/photos/4jcFu1byopQ


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INFOGRAPHIC: 9 benefits of reading poetry

As opposed to the most popular post on this blog ‘Why people don’t like poetry’, I have compiled according to my so far done research a little, simple (yet cute, you have to admit🙂 ) infographic about beneficial aspects of reading poetry.  Many of us do like reading/writing poetry and we all know that it goes beyond pure use of certain words and language functions.

infographic_benefits_reading_poetry

I think this is especially interesting to the newcomers to this blog and how they are not that much acquainted with the previous work done, here are also links of the specific posts leading to creation of this infographic.

How poetry can stimulate creativity?

Poetry and Creativity: crucial blocks in building leadership qualities

Can poetry help you become a better strategist?

Are you a ‘deep reader’? 3 reasons why you should nurture this habit

How important is tacit knowledge for your creativity and one simple way to get more of it

Develop your own mindfulness practice for more patience and joy at work

Diversity at workplace: how to use poetry for improving communication and intercultural differences

Raise your emotional intelligence for creative entrepreneurial leadership- part I

Raise your emotional intelligence for a creative entrepreneurial leadership – part II

Are you an introvert? Poetry can help you access your inner treasures

Please, feel free to share this info as we together can inspire more people to make poetry essential part of their lives.


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Making Peace by Denise Levertov

As today we are celebrating a World Peace Day, I thought of sharing this beautiful words by Denise Levertov, “Making Peace” and through poetry take opportunity to first find peace within ourselves and simply let that energy transcend further, around us:

peace_poetry


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15 most beautiful poems about mindfulness

mindfulness_poetry

We are all aware that present moment is the place where our power lies. Not in the past or future, but in the now where we can make the most of our lives. Yet, being mindful is not that easy: we often catch ourselves dwelling on the past or worrying about distant events, thus allowing sometimes beautiful tiny moments escape our attention. In this post I share my own practice on using poetry for meditative purposes that I found to be helpful. Today I list here my 15 top poems about mindfulness, purpose in life and happiness. I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I do.

 The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.

What Do We Know by Mary Oliver

The sky cleared
I was standing
under a tree.

and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment

at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain —
imagine! Imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry

 When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For the time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

What We Need Is Here by Wendell Berry

 Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

You Reading This, Be Ready by William Stafford

 Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?
Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?
When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life–
What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?

Enough by David Whyte

 Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
until now.
Until now

Stand Still by David Wagoner

The trees before you and the bushes beside you are not lost.
Wherever you are is a place called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

Happiness by Hermann Hesse

If luck you chase, you have not grown
enough for happiness to stay,
not even if you get your way.

If, what you lost, you still bemoan,
and grasp at tasks, and dash and dart,
you have not known true peace of heart.

But if no wishes are your own,
and you don’t try to win the game,
and Lady Luck is just a name,

then tides of life won’t reach your breast
and all your strife
and all your soul will rest.

Rumi

Be empty of worrying
Think of who created thought
Why do you stay in prison
When the door is so wide open
Move outside the tangle of fear thinking
Live in silence
Flow down and down
Into always widening
Rings of being

Hafiz

Now is the time
Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.
Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God?
Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child’s training wheels
To be laid aside
When you can finally live
with veracity and love.
Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.
That this is the time
For you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.
Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is Sacred

Franz Kafka

You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice,
it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

T.S. Eliot

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope for hope
would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

Osho

There is a music which has no sound,
the soul is restless for such silent music.
There is a love in which the body is not,
the soul longs for such unembodied love.
There is a truth which has no form,
the soul longs for this formless truth.

The Way It Is by William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

One Sand Grain Among the Others in the Winter Wind by Jane Hirshfield

I wake with my hand held over the place of grief in my body.
“Depend on nothing,” the voice advises, but even that is useless.
My ears are useless, my familiar and intimate tongue.
My protecting hand is useless, that wants to hold the single leaf to the tree
and say, Not this one, this one will be saved.


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If only

If only I could be a river

a river that goes, flows to the mouth of giant

whale, joining other watery hands to handshake in

the rhythm of waves, rejoicing drop by drop in the

eternity of an ocean;

 

If only I could be a wind, that carries my breath

collides white clouds, like a spider’s net catches every word

has the strengths to rearrange desserts

and knows how to surrender

in the eye of storm;

 

 

If only I could be a tree,

a tree that knows its place under the sun,

how to befriend soil and welcome rain

a tree that accepts its roots – broken sinews

too tired to grow:

 

I would congratulate myself,

I would sing the song only I hear,

I would visit places only I knew exist

I would finally be who I am.

 

Maja S. Todorovic