Haiku: A Compassionate Bridge to Your Creativity and Your Voice
MY VOICE FILLS MY HEART.
EMBRACE ME, COMPASSIONATE
ONE. NEWNESS UNFOLDS.
Recently, I created a challenge on my social media channels — The 2-Week Haiku Challenge. This challenge is designed for people who are writers, creatives, entrepreneurs, and others who are in need of a boost of creativity, community, and connection to their voice. And, it’s also for people who just like writing haikus. (Surprisingly there aren’t as many of you haiku-lovers as I expected, but I think I’ve just upped the percentage by a whole bunch with this challenge!)
I know you may not be too familiar with haikus, and if you are, it may just be this common meme and t-shirt slogan:
Haikus are easy.
But sometimes they don’t make sense.
Refrigerator.
HAIKUS ARE HIGHLY UNDERRATED
Contrary to popular belief, haikus aren’t nonsense — they actually help you to make sense of the world and your voice and message. In my work with myself and my book writing clients, I find haiku writing to be a great way to tap into creativity and to your voice. Why? It’s different from what we are used to writing or creating. It’s a short form of unrhymed Japanese poetry that contains 17 syllables and three lines, with the first line containing five syllables, the second line containing seven syllables, and the third line containing five syllables. Haiku as a form of poetry was created to be a terse response to the elaborate poetry written at the time (17th century) and the subject was always something about nature, but for my purposes I am focusing on form and letting the content fall where it may.
My love of haiku was re-ignited back on May 5, 2020. I know you are probably thinking, “that’s very specific!” And you are right! You see, this date is ingrained in my brain. I live in Ohio and we experience all four seasons here — the joke is that sometimes we experience all of them in one week, and the first week of May this year really lived up to this. We had some lovely spring weather leading up to the first week of May. Some great sunny days in the 50s and 60s as well as some cooler days with rain; a mixed bag, but overall a trend towards warmer and sunnier weather. I was doing a lot of walking in and around my neighborhood, through the woods, basically everywhere near me in nature, so I was really enjoying the spring-like trend.
Enter May 5th, and that morning I noticed the sky was a bit gray and it looked cooler outside so I threw on jeans, a t-shirt, and a zip front hoodie before I went downstairs to start breakfast and take out my dog Coco. My memory is very vivid and solid on what I was wearing because as I stepped out to my backyard with Coco, I was met with not just cooler air, but a downright cold wind. As I walked with her further into the yard I started shivering, pulled my hood up and zipped myself in up to the neck. To say I was grumpy would be an understatement, and then as I stood there impatiently waiting for Coco, I began to see the snow falling. Yes. Snow. On May 5. This is a day that people talk about having tacos (it was a Tuesday by the way) and margaritas (hello Cinco de Mayo!).
As I came inside, I realized that the weather was seriously about to ruin my day and I didn’t want to go down that path. What was underneath me being upset? I was scared. I didn’t want to head back to winter, not in May 2020. I needed my walks for my mental and physical wellness. I needed those walks like I needed food and water and shelter. Of course, in that moment I wasn’t processing all of this, I just wanted to throw a mini-tantrum about the weather, but I didn’t want to put energy into that, not really. So, I thought about writing about my experience to soothe my mind and heart, but realized I had a lot on the agenda for the day and I really didn’t have time to write a big thing about how I was sad about the weather. However, I thought to myself, “I could write a poem. Wait, I could write a haiku! I have time for a haiku — it’s only three lines and 17 little syllables!”
I decided in that moment to turn this grumpiness into a little sassy-ness so I wrote the following haiku (I needed to write it in two parts because I wasn’t done after the first three lines):
ODE TO MY WINTER COAT ON MAY 5TH
(Part 1)
Oh, winter coat, you
Laugh in secret, waiting in
The closet for May.
(Part 2)
I thought we were done?
“No, no, you foolish girl! You
Live in Ohio!”
The act of writing this was soothing and brought a smile to my face. In fact, it made me laugh out loud. It reminded me that although I didn’t want this winter weather, it didn’t mean that we were heading back to winter. I was able to have some perspective and realize that this was a moment in time and would probably change the following week if not by tomorrow. Afterall, it was Spring in Ohio! And for the rest of the day, as I slipped on my winter coat before I went outside, I chuckled to myself and was thankful for the ill-weather because it brought me back to writing some poetry. Since then, I have begun to use haiku writing as a quick creativity boost and a way for me to use my voice very succinctly and intentionally to introduce my blog posts and other pieces I am writing. It’s a puzzle for my brain with the form and a kind and compassionate way to enter into the writing process for myself.
WHY IS THE ACT OF WRITING A HAIKU KIND AND COMPASSIONATE?
This is where all of the newness of re-igniting my love for haikus unfolded for me. Writing haikus as a warm-up or practice before the main event (like writing a book or your blog) takes the pressure off. All of the sudden, instead of focusing on the big piece of writing that means SO MUCH, I am instead focusing on just three lines. The internal suffering and back-and-forth-ing that happens with the blank page is replaced by excitement, anticipation, and curiosity. It’s a small step that gives me a boost and a metaphorical jumping-off place for the writing of the day. Let’s face it, when you are creating and then consistently participating in a daily writing practice, some days are hard. The point is to show up though, without judgement, and write. And when I sit down to write, I have my friend the haiku right there with me, supporting me, saying, “This is no big thing. Let’s have some fun. How about a little puzzle? What can you create in three lines that feels true to what you need and want to say today?”
If I’m really struggling even with my friend supporting me, I put a little more support under me, picking one or two words I want to include in the poem. They can just be random — like CRISP and LONGING — and all of the sudden, something is unlocked! If choosing specific words doesn’t feel quite right, then I ask myself a question around which to write, maybe something like, “What if I bring more of my safe haven into the writing today? What if I connect to something that soothes me and supports this idea that I want to write about today?”
Well, I’ll tell you what happens when I ask myself those questions and then write a haiku: I feel better. I feel at ease. I feel the joy within the act of writing and sharing my voice.
