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Click to follow Let’s Write 2019.

Leigh Anne Eck is inviting bloggers to join a new community of writers.  The purpose is for us writers to share and celebrate our writing goals. Click the image above to read more about Leigh Anne’s invitation.

Somehow writing down a plan for writing makes it more real.  WordPress sent me a notification that I have made 1,337 posts.  I’m not sure why that number is significant to WordPress, but it made me realize that I write an average of about 200 posts per year.  I don’t plan to make that a goal, but I do plan to continue to participate in these writing challenges and blogging round ups:

  • March Slice of Life Challenge (and weekly during the other months)
  • April Poem-a-Day
  • December Haiku-a-Day
  • Poetry Friday
  • Laura Shovan’s poem-a-day in February (her birthday month)

I work with two writing groups.  These monthly and bi-monthly meetings keep me writing and working toward publishing goals. In 2018, I celebrated the publishing of my first poetry book for children, Bayou Song.  I am currently working on Swamp Song.  I hope to finish this manuscript in 2019.

Hitting the Send button on submissions takes courage and vulnerability.  I’m trying to get better at it and take rejections in stride.  After all, don’t we read over and over about famous writers getting multiple rejections.  It’s all part of the process.  I hope to be more brave in 2019 and submit more often.

The third goal for my writing life is to write a poem a day.  I do this as part of challenges like the December #haikuforhope and in April as part of National Poetry Month.  Why not do this every day? Using my scrap paper art journal, I am invited to just write without judgement.

I have found a writing home in poetry.  Poetry fits me and is comfortable.  Maybe too comfortable?  One of my writing goals for 2019 is to try a different genre.  I’ve written fiction, but I’ve shied away from memoir.  Two of my writing group partners are writing memoir, so I’m intrigued and inspired.

Writing in a community of writers both strengthens my writing and urges me on to write more, submit more, and to be more.  Would you like to be a part of Let’s Write 2019?  There’s always room for one more at the table.

 

 

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Spiritual Journey is gathering today at Ruth’s blog.  We are writing about our chosen words for 2019.

Choosing a one little word is something I start thinking about weeks before the year’s end. For me it becomes a process of listening to the universe.  This year my thoughts started around Thanksgiving.  The first word I considered was Compassion. 

A compassionate life is something to aspire to. I recently read Bishop Jake Owensby’s latest book A Resurrection Shaped Life. 

“By God’s grace, a new life–what I’m calling a resurrection-shaped life–emerges from suffering and sorrow.  One way in which that new life emerges is in our unguarded engagement with the suffering of others.” (21)

Caring so deeply that we stand beside and hold hands with suffering is what Jesus calls us to; however, the more I thought about this word, the more unworthy I felt.  I don’t want to choose a word that leads me to despair, that feeling of not meeting up with my own expectations.

Another word I considered was Mindfulness.  I love practicing yoga and bringing meditation into my day.  I’ve not made time for this since school started, so perhaps if I gave myself the word mindfulness, I would get back to these spirit-filled activities.  And being in touch with my spiritual center would also lead me to compassion.

These words are still an integral part of my thinking.  I meditated the other day and heard another word, Blessed. Ah, yes.  That’s it.  I am blessed and when I feel blessed, I can bless others.  But the dictionary definition of blessed is “made holy; consecrated.”  This definition makes me feel I am proclaiming something rather than working toward a better me.

In searching for synonyms of compassion, I found a perfect word, one I can wrap my head around, one that is not a claim or full of unlimited expectation.  Simple and sincere…

 

 

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See more posts at Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life .

Happy New Year!  On Friday, I posted about my art journal that I am using for scrap paper poems.  Often I am inspired to write while out and about.  This weekend I was driving to my parents’ home in Mississippi listening to On Being and watching for birds on the highway.  The muse hit, and I scratched out this poem in a tiny notebook I keep in my console.

We are all dizzy
tilting this way and that
speeding through our days
at 75 miles per hour.

We distract ourselves with distractions.
We cover noise with sound.

So look
at the egret, still and patient.
He flies on white wings
dragging his long stick-like legs
behind him.

(c) Margaret Simon

My wish for you in 2019:

Slow down.

Watch the birds.

Savor the sunset.

Speak to the moon.

Hold your loved ones close.

Know when to let go.

Live each day.

Laugh more.

See more.

Be more.

 

 

 

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Laura Purdie Salas hosts a 15 Words or Less poetry drafting exercise every Thursday.  This image is on her blog today.  Join in here. 

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See more posts at Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life .

Yesterday I read aloud the book Santa Clauses to my students.  Written by Bob Raczka and illustrated by Chuck Groenink, Santa Clauses is a book of haiku for every day in December up to Christmas Day.

I read the opening author’s note: “Santa is a man of many talents.  He’s a toymaker, a reindeer trainer, a sleigh pilot, and a world traveler.  But did you know he is a poet?”

Chloe, 3rd grade, said Santa must’ve written the haiku and sent them to Bob Raczka to publish.  I agreed that seemed like a reasonable idea.  (I love having believers in my classroom.)

Of course, in response, we had to write our own Santa clauses.  Here are a few:

So warm at nighttime
I love eating my cookies
with tasty milk cups.

by Breighlynn, 3rd grade

Paper, ribbons, bows
wrapping love in a package
Open carefully.

Margaret Simon

Rudolf is happy
that history is alive
He will tell Santa.

by Chloe, 3rd grade

I am participating in #haikuforhope along with others on Twitter. My poem today was made in Word Swag from an Instagram photo from my friend Jen Gray.

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Round up is with Irene at Live Your Poem.

On this first Thursday of December, the Spiritual Journey bloggers are reflecting on our 2018 one little word. Way back in January, I chose the word Explore.  Like previous words, Presence and Open, this word helped me to be more present to the world around me.  Exploration is important in the life of a writer.  To me exploring has a connotation of adventure and daring. While I find much comfort in just being at home, when I am more open to adventure, I reach out and invite joy in.

My students and I enjoy exploring different ways to look at common objects.  The above image was taken through a Private Eye jewelers loupe in the school garden. The Private Eye asks the viewer to use figurative language to describe what you see.  It looks like… and it also looks like…

A rose in bloom
flowing tutu in the sun
a garden dancer

 

Following NCTE in Houston, my friend Dani traveled home with me for a few days before heading back to Montana.  We explored Avery Island and the Tabasco plant, a sculpture garden in New Orleans, and an old cemetery.  Dani was fascinated by the above ground crypts.  Since NOLA is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground to avoid floating away. Exploring is more fun with a friend.

 

Explore was a good word for 2018, but as this year comes to a close, I’m thinking about next year’s one little word.  I feel the need to turn more toward reaching out to others and making some kind of difference.  Explore was a more self-serving word, one that led me to adventures and new places, but didn’t send me outward to others.  I’m ready to look inward to how I can become more generous to others.

#haikuforhope

Hope fills my waiting heart
Gently cradled in wonder
Exploring my world

(c) Margaret Simon

 

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Our paths turn and turn
we seek the light of knowledge
a labyrinth of faith

(c) Margaret Simon
#haikuforhope

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See more posts at Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life .

I am participating in writing a haiku-a-day in the month of December.  Follow the hashtag #haikuforhope on Twitter to read and join in.

I had news of a tragic death by suicide this weekend.  A former student. A creative soul. An enthusiastic friend who loved without condition. Why? No one knows.  Not even the ones who were closest to him.

I wish there were some way I could remain a person in my students’ lives, someone they could call whenever they needed someone to talk to without judgement.  They enter my heart when they are so young, 8, 9, 10 year-olds who know so very little about what lies ahead, but they are full of curiosity and longing. I love them when I have them, then I have to let them go.  They continue to grow and change and become grown-ups.  I may find them again on social media, but there are no guarantees.  I have to trust that the world will be kind.

I don’t think the world was kind to Walt.  He never fit in, conforming was not a part of who he was or who he could be.  He wanted so much more than the world could give him.  I really don’t know what could have gone through his head to make him choose death instead of life.  I need to let go again.  I have to trust that he is where he needs to be now, in the arms of an angel in heaven who can love him forever.

 

 

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Sunday afternoon was so gorgeous we had to stop and take a canoe trip down the bayou.  The temperatures were in the 70’s which we won’t likely see again for a while as December begins to roll in on cooler waves.  I really believe that the cypress trees are more beautiful this year with their bronze needles that still cling to the branches.  We stopped by a neighbor’s house and chatted with her while a fat water snake slithered from a nearby bush.  Yes, it freaked me out, and I became jumpy.  Everything became a snake: branches, leaves, jumping fish, scurrying squirrels. But soon my heebie-jeebies subsided, and I enjoyed the scenery.  With the still water, the reflections were picture perfect.

December on Bayou Teche by Margaret Simon

Dusk, hawks are hunting,
Scouting a slithering snake.
Keep paddle moving.

(c) Margaret Simon

 

 

 

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