Free Women’s Writing Circle – February 27th, 4 to 5 PM PT.

February 20th, 2024 — 2:52pm

There is tremendous healing power in telling our stories. Writing our truths shows us who we are, how we got here, and where we want to go. Writing together makes us braver and stronger.

I warmly invite you to join me on Tuesday, February 27th, 4 to 5 pm PT, for a free, one hour Women’s Writing Circle practice. The process is simple and deep: using poetry as a prompt, we write quickly and steadily for a set amount of time, pen doesn’t leave the page. Writing quickly helps us bypass our inner critic, offers a real opportunity to meet our authentic selves on the page, and lets our creativity shine.

This practice is as joyful and freeing for those at the beginning of their writing journey as it is for those who have travelled a ways down the road. DM me if you have any questions! Let’s write!

To register go to: https://us06web.zoom.us/…/tZUsd…

Comment » | Uncategorized


Of Psilocybin, Lennon and Love

February 17th, 2024 — 10:46pm

Many years ago I took a psilocybin trip. It was my first (and so far only) trip and I wanted to travel gently. I did not want a Heroine’s Journey or to meet G-d on my first go around. I prepared the mushrooms, drank the muddy infusion and 15 minutes in, the Navajo rug we bought in Santa Fe on our honeymoon began to dance. I was listening to a cassette tape (remember those?)  that our friend John made for us, “Music to Trip By”: Holst’s “The Planets,” “Deep Blue Day” by Brian Eno, “Strawberry Fields” by the Beatles, “Box of Rain” by the Dead and more.  Just after I peaked and started coming down I heard John Lennon’s “Love is Real.” 

My heart burst wide open. I was hit with the certainty that All is Love. The absolute truth that we are here to learn to love, that we are meant to take the circumstances of our upbringings and the stories of our lives and do whatever we need to do for as long as we need to do it over as many lifetimes as it takes to heal ourselves so we can give and receive love.

I might not have met the divine on my first go-around, but I did meet something holy. The passage of time has not changed my mind.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I share Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s beautiful poem, “The Question.”  It’s not about romantic love, but big love, as in, how do we learn to move through the world from a loving place.  “Is this the path of love?” she asks herself throughout her day, regardless of who she’s with or what she is doing. Is this the path of love?

“Amazing how
quickly six words become compass,
the new lens through which to see myself
in the world.”

Wishing you love this Valentine’s Day, and every day.

Dayna

****

Next round of Women’s Writing Circles begins March 14.

Eight week series. Zoom classes begin March 14, 5:30 pm PT to 7:00 pm PT. In person Berkeley classes begin March 15, 10 AM to Noon. Cost: $360 per series. $315 if registered by March 1. No one turned away for lack of funds. If you are experiencing financial challenges, please reach out. daynamacy.com for more info.

*****

NEW!: Yoga & Writing One-Day Women’s Retreat, Saturday, April 27, 8:30 to 4:00 PM, with two sessions each of writing circles and gentle, mindful yoga, a sumptuous vegetarian lunch, all on a beautiful country property in Sebastopol, CA. I will be joined by my former colleague, Kaitlin Quistgaard,  mindful yoga teacher and former editor-in-chief of Yoga Journal. $225 or $195 if you register by March 10th. Eight spots left. Please email me at dayna@daynamacy if interested. More information at daynamacy.com and KaitlinQ.com

****

The Question

by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

All day, I replay these words:
Is this the path of love?
I think of them as I rise, as
I wake my children, as I wash dishes,
as I drive too close behind the slow
blue Subaru, Is this the path of love?
Think of these words as I stand in line
at the grocery store,
think of them as I sit on the couch
with my daughter. Amazing how
quickly six words become compass,
the new lens through which to see myself
in the world. I notice what the question is not.
Not, “Is this right?” Not,
“Is this wrong?” It just longs to know
how the action of existence
links us to the path to love.
And is it this? Is it this? All day,
I let myself be led by the question.
All day I let myself not be too certain
of the answer. Is it this?
Is this the path of love? 
I ask
as I wait for the next word to come.

Comment » | Uncategorized


Why We Tell Stories (from the February 2024 Newsletter)

January 31st, 2024 — 12:55pm

“Tell me your story,” the four year old daughter asks her mother in Marie Howe’s spectacular poem, “The Spell.” Her mother obliges: “I dropped you off, I taught my class, I ate a tuna fish sandwich, wrote emails, returned phone calls…”

The next day the daughter asks again, “Mom, tell me your story.” Her mom replies with the same list: “I dropped you off, taught my class, had lunch…” And her daughter said, “No mom, tell me the whole thing.” The mom says: “I feel a little sad.”No Mom, tell me the whole thing,” her daughter insists.  

“Ok, Elise died. Elise is dead and the world feels weary and broken hearted.” This back and forth continues, her daughter continuing to ask for the whole story, the one she senses is mother isn’t saying, and continues asking until the story is complete.

I used this poem in my Writing Circle classes the other week and it still won’t let me go. The words and cadence are  beautiful, but just as beautiful is the invitation it offers to move from the surface of our lives to dig deeper, excavating layer by layer to what lies beneath.

This poem is a reminder to seek the stories inside our stories. This is what we do when we write together in Women’s Writing Circles—we invite ourselves to speak our truths, and then we ask ourselves to tell  more, to tell it all. We never get there, of course—we are works in progress, and our lives are still unfolding. But by writing and telling our stories, we are saying that we have not abandoned ourselves. That our lives are worthy of attention and respect. That we matter. 

This is why we tell our stories.

We suffer from an epidemic of loneliness, even post Covid. We need community. We need each other. Find your posse, your tribe. Find others whose stories you want to hear and who want to hear yours. We are meant to be connected. 

Marie’s poem is below. Embrace the spiral she creates. If you are moved to try your own writing practice, I’ve included very simple instructions. Keep writing your story.

Love,

Dayna

****

NEW!: Yoga & Writing One-Day Women’s Retreat, Saturday, April 27, 8:30 to 4:00 PM, with two sessions each of writing circles and gentle, mindful yoga, a sumptuous vegetarian lunch, all on a beautiful country property in Sebastopol, CA. I will be joined by my former colleague, Kaitlin Quistgaard,  mindful yoga teacher and former editor-in-chief of Yoga Journal. $225 or $195 if you register by March 10th. Space is limited to ten women. Please email me at dayna@daynamacy if interested. More information at daynamacy.com and www.KaitlinQ.com

****

Next round of Women’s Writing Circles begins March 13.

Eight week series. Zoom classes begin March 13, 5:30 pm PT to 7:00 pm PT. In person Berkeley classes begin March 15, 10 AM to Noon. Cost: $360 per series. $320 if registered by March 1. No one turned away for lack of funds. If you are experiencing financial challenges, please reach out. daynamacy.com for more info.

*****

Writing Practice: 

You can do this practice solo or with a trusted friend.

What you’ll need:

Ten minutes of quiet

A pen

Some paper or a journal. (I recommend pen and paper instead of your computer. It is a more visceral experience.)

1. Set your timer to ten minutes or have a clock handy.

2. Read the poem below out loud.

3. Choose one of the jump off lines from the poem:

  • Tell me your story
  • Tell me your whole story
  • Where the unlived life lives

Or you can use an alternate line: A few things I might want to write about…

4. Read the poem aloud one more time —then…

5. Begin writing. Pen doesn’t leave the page. Keep your belly soft. Say yes to what arises. If you’re stuck use the line, “Here’s what I want to say”… and keep writing.  When the time is done, put the pen down. Take a few deep breaths, then…

6. Read your piece aloud to yourself. Reading aloud helps your words land in your body. (Or read to a trusted friend. If reading in pairs, please do not comment on your friend’s writing. Simply acknowledge non-verbally, like nodding your head or prayer, hands. This is part of creating a safe space.)

7. Take a few breaths. Your practice is now complete.

****

The Spell
Marie Howe

Every day when I pick up my four-year-old daughter from preschool
she climbs into her back booster seat and says, Mom—–tell me your story.
And almost every day I tell her: I dropped you off, I taught my class
I ate a tuna fish sandwich, wrote e-mails, returned phone calls, talked with students
and then I came to pick you up.
And almost every day I think, My God, is that what I did?

Yesterday, she climbed into the backseat and said, Mom
tell me your story, and I did what I always did: I said I dropped you off
taught my class, had lunch, returned e-mails, talked with students…
        And she said, No Mom, tell me the whole thing.

And I said, ok. I feel a little sad.
And she said, Tell me the whole thing Mom.
And I said, ok Elise died.

Elise is dead and the world feels weary and brokenhearted.
And she said, Tell me the whole thing Mom.
And I said, in my dream last night I felt my life building up around me and
        when I stepped forward and away from it and turned around I saw a high
        and frozen crested wave.

        And she said, the whole thing Mom.
Then I thought of the other dream, I said, when a goose landed heavily on my head—
But when I’d untangled it from my hair I saw it wasn’t a goose but a winged serpent
writhing up into the sky like a disappearing bee.

And she said, Tell me the whole story.
And I said, Elise is dead, and all the frozen tears are mine of course
and if that wave broke it might wash my life clear,
        and I might begin again from now and from here.

And I looked into the rearview mirror—
She was looking sideways, out the window, to the right
        —where they say the unlived life is.

Ok? I said.
And she said, Ok, still looking in that direction.

Comment » | Uncategorized


Democracy (and a Poem)

January 1st, 2024 — 11:09am

I had planned to write my January Women’s Circle Writing Group newsletter about welcoming this new year in with renewed belief in ourselves, and other uplifting thoughts, but my heart is tugging me in a different direction.

This is going to be a pivotal year. We have a presidential election in November that will decide whether our country will remain a democracy or slides into a dictatorship. The leading Republican candidate tried to overturn the 2020 election, and now casually flings words like “vermin” around to his followers. If it sounds familiar it is. This is the language of fascism and it’s terrifying. We must not look away.

We, the people, are stronger together, and the time to express that power is now. No one person can do it alone, but together we can take action to protect our democracy, for ourselves, our children, and future generations. 

Vote. And if you are able, help register other people to vote — especially young people and people in swing states. As Third Act co-founder and my friend Bill McKibben tells us, the best thing an individual can do to address attacks on democracy, and the climate crisis, is to stop acting like an individual. We are more powerful when we act collectively. 

Thankfully we have pro-democracy organizations in the world doing vital work, as well as smart journalists and writers chronicling what is happening in our country, how to interpret it all, and what actions to take. Just a few of these organizations and journalists are linked to below. There are more. No act is too small. Do what you can. The time is now.

Finally, this newsletter closes with a poem by the wonderful Bay Area poet Danusha Lameris, who writes about how we are all in this human soup together, and small kindnesses matter.

Love,

Dayna

****

New round of Women’s Writing Circles begins January 10th! One spot left in each class. (Hoping to add a third class in the near future!)

Eight week series. Zoom Classes begin January 10, 5:30 pm PT to 7:00 pm PT In Person Berkeley Classes begin January 12, 10 AM to Noon. Cost: $360 per series. No one turned away for lack of funds. If you are experiencing financial challenges, please reach out.

daynamacy.com

****

Pro-Democracy Organizations

Third Act

“Experienced Americans” are the fastest-growing part of the population: 10,000 people a day pass the 60-year mark. That means that there’s no way to make the changes that must be made to protect our planet and society unless we bring our power into play.

Swing Left

Swing Left is building a lasting culture of grassroots participation in winning elections for the Left by making it as easy as possible for anyone to have maximum impact on the elections that determine the balance of power in our country.

Pro Democracy

Helping state leaders establish a shared vision for what an inclusive and participatory democracy looks like, and engaging with them to win critical fights to protect democracy and promote pro-democracy policies and actions.

Protect Democracy

Protect Democracy is a nonpartisan organization committed to combat the rise of authoritarianism, and preserve democracy for future generations.

NextGen America

NextGen America’s mission is to empower young voters to engage in the political process and ensure our government is responsive to the largest and most diverse generation in American history.

The Civics Center

The Civics Center is a national, nonpartisan, nonprofit organization dedicated to bringing voter registration to every high school in America.

****

Political writers to check out:

Simon Rosenberg, Hopium Chronicles

Veteran political analyst. (And one of the only ones who got 2022 right.)

Robert Hubbell

A newsletter devoted to preserving American democracy.

Joyce Vance – Civil Discourse

Former United States Attorney, currently a law professor and a legal analyst for MSNBC and NBC.

Ruth Ben-Ghiat

Lucid is a solutions-oriented publication that provides clear analysis about the consequences of democratic erosion. It also covers the global resistance to tyranny past and present.

Jay Kuo – The Status Kuo

Committed to protecting the rule of law, our civil institutions, and the future of our democracy. This newsletter takes a deep dive each weekday into important political and legal topics, broken down in plain English.

****

And last, this:

Small Kindnesses 

by Danusha Lameris

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk

down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs

to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”

when someone sneezes, a leftover

from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons

from your grocery bag, someone else will help you

pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile

at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress

to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,

have my seat,” “Go ahead — you first,” “I like your hat.”

Comment » | Uncategorized


Nothing To Hold On To

December 14th, 2023 — 11:02am

I met Annette Bening twenty years ago at a Yoga Journal conference when I was communications director. I admired her talent, but I didn’t want to fangirl her either. She was there to do yoga, I was there to help make that happen, in peace.

I watched her during a class with Sri B.K.S. Iyengar, a rare opportunity to study with this great yogic master. I was captivated by her practice. Not by her willowy suppleness or her backbends, but by her embodied presence on the mat—right down to her toes. Literally! She was feeling it and I was happy for her.

After class, we stood next to each other on the lunch line. We began to chat. I don’t really remember about what—politics probably. I was livid at the Bush Administration’s policies, but I tried to reign my fury in. (It was a yoga conference after all.) Then she asked me to join her for lunch (cue the palpitations…)

We sat. We ate. We talked politics. I wanted to ask her a question that was surely too personal but I was curious and asked anyway. “How is it you’ve never done botox, filler, or plastic surgery? How are you so brave?”

“I started on stage,” she replied. “My face had to be expressive. The roles were never about me.” She paused then added, “And I never thought I was beautiful. So there was nothing to hold on to.”

Nothing to hold on to. Yoga in action. She’s fearless.

Comment » | Uncategorized


A New Kind of Bucket List

December 5th, 2023 — 9:11pm

I’ve been feeling my mortality lately — my knees ache a bit (but I still get where I’m going — eventually!), my yoga practice is slower (but I’m still shlepping to the mat!), my hair is streaked with silver and white (love it way more than when I dyed it! Who knew?). Time passes. There’s less of it ahead, in this incarnation anyway, than there is behind. So what is it I really want to do, as Mary Oliver asked, with this one precious life?

Which brings me to bucket lists. Visiting Scotland was on my bucket list for decades. I yearned for it so deeply I took a DNA test, sure I had Scottish blood in me somewhere. Nope. Not a drop. This past summer, I finally made that journey. I spent three weeks in Scotland with my sons, walking for days around the old cobblestoned streets of Edinburgh, then driving through the Cairngorms up to Balmoral and north to Inverness. We saw the mystical standing stones of Daviot (where I felt like Claire from Outlander falling through time), drove the Trotternish Peninsula around the Isle of Skye, basked in the Fairy Glen near Uig, drank whiskey shots in Oban and so much more. I can honestly say this trip exceeded my dreams and brought back a piece of my soul in some way I still can’t quite describe. The best part of it all, though, was the gift of getting to spend three precious weeks with my adult sons. Such a fierce love!

Andrea Gibson, a remarkable poet who is currently in cancer treatment, recently shared a new kind of bucket list. It got me thinking that even though there’s more I really want to do —seeing the Northern Lights, spending time in Alaska… — maybe it’s time I rethink mine, too. Maybe I’d like my bucket list to be less about what I do and more about how I live in the world. As this year draws to a close, I share some of Andrea’s beautiful list with you, with the deep wish that we be kind and gentle with ourselves and each other. The world can be a rough place. We’re all on a journey, and in the end, as Ram Dass said, we’re all just walking each other home.

Love,

Dayna

***

The next round of Women’s Writing Circles begins mid-January! Zoom classes begin Wednesday, January 10th, 6 PM to 7:30 PM PT, and in-home class begins Friday, January 12th, 10 AM to noon. With a line of poetry as our inspiration, we put pen to paper and write quickly and steadily, and away we gallop, getting to the truth of our stories. These short practices give us a beautiful creative freedom to be who we are and simply write. More info at daynamacy.com

***

Excerpts from Andrea Gibson’s “New Kind of Bucket List”:

To sense with senses the world taught us do not exist.

To stand guard over my own attention.

To break the vows I have made to my suffering.

To understand how much my attention is worth, and to only let it be bought by the silver in my love’s hair, the gold of an Aspen tree in autumn.

To communicate with the dead before they die. To listen for the spirit beneath everybody’s mind.

To think like an inventor. To refuse to be a product of a thought assembly line.

To know what lives at the root of my fear.  To weed that garden until only truth blooms.

To reckon with my trauma until it is a poem no longer written in blood. 

To see through the lens of my spirit, and not the bruised and clouded eyes of my wounds.

To know shame can’t live in the light, and let the light fall wherever I am hiding.

To see people as a mystery, especially those I know best.

To know exactly what parts of me are comforted by other people’s approval and comfort those parts myself instead.

To love my body as if it were my soul’s silhouette.

To have a spirit so strong I own every instance I am the hater, the bully, the tongue sharp as a broken mirror.

To be good to people without investment in being seen as a good person.

To be guided by giving instead of getting.

To bend over backwards in yoga class only – To not shapeshift to fit the expectations of society that is yet to see all the ways it is sick.

To live like I’m kissing the universe on her temple.

To make sure everyone I love knows how much I love them….. 

Comment » | Uncategorized


Around the Listening Table, or, What it Feels Like to Write Together

November 14th, 2023 — 1:11pm

This poem by Julia Fehrenbacher describes what it feels like to write in a safe, supportive circle of women. In our practice, we use poetry lines as a prompt and write quickly and steadily for a set amount of time. If we were in class right now, our jump off lines would be:

Our only job is to tell the truth

This is what seeing looks like

This is what listening sounds like

This is what free feels like

I warmly invite you to join my next Women’s Writing circles! Zoom classes begin Wednesday, January 10th, 6 to 7:30 PM PT, and my in-home class begins Friday, January 12, 10 to noon PT. Fees are $45 per class/$360 for the series. If you sign up by December 10, the series is $310. The series runs for eight weeks. If you are experiencing financial challenges, please reach out! Any questions or if you’d like to talk more, email me at dayna@daynamacy.com

Let’s write!

————

Around the Listening Table – Julia Fehrenbacher

We arrive one by one, carrying the heavy

of the body’s aches, the mind’s angst, the day’s
so-muchness, the warring world’s weight. We carry all
of the beautiful things too. All of it is invited.

We put pen to paper, throw off
the saddle, and away we gallop, we gallop fast enough
to outrun the ones who want to shut us up.

One word at a time, our only job
is to tell the truth. One word at a time, we say
what we want to say, what we don’t want to say.

There is no wrong way. It is all life. It is all right.

And then, we listen. We listen as each woman
empties herself. Each string of each heart
gets plucked. We bow. We cry. We laugh. We say thank you.

This is what seeing looks like. What listening
sounds like, what a little closer
to free feels like.

I walk away with their stories and hearts forever woven
into mine, like braided sweetgrass that can never
be unbraided. Like a notebook that holds every last word—

a symphony of sisterhood that can never be unsung.

Comment » | Uncategorized


Free Women’s Writing Circle November 28

November 12th, 2023 — 10:25am

There is tremendous healing power in telling our stories. Sharing our stories in a circle of supportive women not only helps us grow and heal, it helps others do the same. However different our lives are, we share a common thread — the desire to understand and find meaning in our lives. Women’s Writing Circles offers a practice that helps us with our journey.

On Tuesday, November 28, 6 to 7 pm PT, I will be offering a free, one hour Women’s Writing Circle practice to share a taste of this work. The practice is simple and deep: using poetry as a prompt, we write quickly and steadily for a set amount of time, pen doesn’t leave the page. That’s it! Writing quickly helps us bypass our inner critic, offers a real opportunity to meet our authentic selves on the page, and lets our creativity shine. It sounds too simple to be that powerful — yet it is. This practice is as joyful and freeing for those at the beginning of their writing journey as it is for those who have travelled a ways down the road. 

If you are interested, email me at dayna@daynamacy.com for a link. Let’s write!

Comment » | Uncategorized


Expressing the Ineffable: A Brief Practice

November 6th, 2023 — 7:07pm

I’m at a loss for words. The tragedy that is unfolding in Israel and Gaza, the continued tragedy of Ukraine, the global rise in overt antisemitism, all of it makes me pause.  What words can you write when you can’t find the words?

There is a word for that — “ineffable” — meaning too great or extreme to express in words. This includes both the beautiful and the horrific. This word describes the moment we are in.

My heart is breaking. But I am committed to finding the words, to name and witness what is happening in the world and within me. Grief. Despair. Love. I use these very words in my daily writing practice. I believe the act of committing words to paper is healing. I find writing in a safe circle of women healing. 

And so I’d like to share with you a brief writing practice for the time we are living in.

This practice is simple and can go deep. Using poetry as a prompt, we write quickly and steadily, pen not leaving the page. I chose this month’s poem, “The Peace of Wild Things,” by Wendell Berry, because it acknowledges both the truth of suffering and the possibility of grace. 

Below are brief instructions, as well as an accompanying video. Our souls are worthy of expression. This is the gift of this practice.

*******

You can do this practice alone or with a trusted friend.

What you’ll need:

Ten minutes of quiet

A pen

Some paper or a journal. (I recommend pen and paper instead of your computer. It is a more visceral experience.)

1. Set your timer to ten minutes or have a clock handy.

2. Read the poem below out loud.

3. Choose one of the jump off lines from the poem:

  • When despair for the world grows in me
  • The peace of wild things
  • I rest in the grace of the world

Or you can use an alternate line: A few things I might want to write about…

4. Read the poem aloud one more time —then…

5. Begin writing. Pen doesn’t leave the page. Keep your belly soft. Say yes to what arises. If you’re stuck use the line, “Here’s what I want to say”… and keep writing.  When the time is done, put the pen down. Take a few deep breaths, then…

6. Read your piece aloud to yourself. Reading aloud helps your words land in your body. (Or read to a trusted friend. If reading in pairs, please do not comment on your friend’s writing. Simply acknowledge non-verbally, like nodding your head or prayer, hands and bear witness. This is part of creating a safe space.)

7. Take a few breaths. Your practice is now complete.

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.

***

I will be offering a free, one hour writing practice on Tuesday, November 28, 6:00 to 7:00 PM PT. If you’re interested, please email me at dayna@daynamacy.com to receive a zoom link.

The next round of Women’s Writing Circles begins January 10, both on zoom and in my home in Berkeley. Join our wonderful and supportive community of women as we write our truths together. You can read more at daynamacy.com, or email me for more info.

Comment » | Uncategorized


October Writing Practice: Follow Those Spiritual Breadcrumbs!

October 2nd, 2023 — 2:09pm

Greetings Friends! Just halfway through my first season of teaching Women’s Writing Circles and I love pretty much everything about it — the honor of hearing people’s stories, and the simplicity and generosity of a process that invites us to meet ourselves on the page. The practice can be full of surprises, words sprinkled with our unique spiritual breadcrumbs, all leading us back to our true selves.

What we do in these circles is simple, I read a poem and we write together for a short amount of time. Then one by one we read. We listen, we do not comment. It takes courage for sure, but the gifts are worth it —meeting all parts of ourselves in a circle of safe listening. It’s an honor to facilitate these circles.

There’s no better way to get a feel for what the practice is than to try it. So I would like to share with you a short poem and video so that you can try this on your own, or maybe with a trusted friend. If you watch the video, I will give you brief instructions on how the practice works. If reading is more your thing than watching, simple instructions are below.

The next round of Women’s Writing Circles begins mid January, both on zoom and in my home in Berkeley. Find out more at daynamacy.com. Or feel free to email me at dayna@daynamacy.com for more info.

Love,

Dayna

*****

October Writing Practice

What you’ll need:

A pen

Paper/journal (I recommend pen and paper instead of your computer. It is a more visceral experience.)

• Set your timer to ten minutes or have a clock handy.

• Read the poem below out loud.

• Choose one of the jump off lines from the poem below:

• Everywhere you turn there is an entrance

• Everyone is connected

• Or an alternate line: Here’s what I want to say

• Read the poem aloud one more time then… 

•Begin writing. Pen doesn’t leave the page. If you’re stuck use the line, Here’s what I want to say… and keep writing. Keep your belly soft. Say yes to what arises. You got this.

•When the time is done. Put the pen down. Take a few deep breaths, settle in, then read your writing aloud to yourself (or if writing with a friend, take turns reading out loud. Listen and do not comment).

Take a few moments to feel what lines you wrote resonate in any way. Surprise. Laughter. Anger. Grief. These are our spiritual breadcrumbs. They are windows into knowing ourselves better. It’s all part of the human stew and it’s all good.

“An Entrance” by Malina Morning

If you want to give thanks

but this time not to the labyrinth

of cause and effect–

Give thanks to the plain sweetness of a day

when it’s as if everywhere you turn

there is an entrance–

When it’s as if even the air is a door–

And your child is a door

afloat on invisible hinges.

“The world is a house,” he says,

over lunch as if to give you a clue–

And before the words dissolve

above his plate of eggs and rice

you suddenly see how we are in it–

How everywhere the air

is holding hands with the air–

How everyone is connected

to everyone else by breathing.

***

Comment » | Uncategorized


Back to top