Fiona writes: I fell in love with Sage’s beautiful blog and her exquisite poetry many (how many? 5?) years ago. Then she fell in love with mine, and we’ve been in love with each other’s work (and each other!) ever since.
Her first book, Writing the Life Poetic, is a MUST for anyone who wants to write poetry. Anyone who wants to carve out some space for writing (esp if you find it difficult) should buy The Productive Writer. And Like the Heart, the World is one of the handful of poetry collections I return to again and again. Visit her at Path of Possibility.
As you might be able to tell, I think Sage is an all-round-marvellous-person.
One of these days I might even get to meet her : )
So, lovely Sage, on with the interview. What drives your creative work?
The need to inhabit truth — to write myself toward something resembling comprehension.
What would you say to yourself if you could go back in time and meet yourself at the beginning of your creative career?
You are worthy. Yes you are. Always have been. Always will be.
How do you keep creating when things get difficult?
How do you keep creating when things get difficult?
Sometimes I don’t. The beauty of having a lifetime of experience with my craft is that I have come to know and trust my rhythms and seasons. Sometimes, life is just too difficult to write. I don’t worry about whether I’m writing or not…I let the words come when they’re ready; and I follow them wherever they are headed.
How does your creative work affect the rest of your life?
Writing has taught me how to live. I became conscious of this in my son’s first year. Every two hours, every night, we were awake. And because of my writing practice, I had a means of savoring this exquisite exhaustion. I’d hold my thirsty child, feeling the pulse of history moving through the union of our bodies. I knew how to be present without wishing to be or feel or do anything else. I could sense in my peripheral vision the thread of humanity stitching us to every mother and child all over the world who were awake this minute, nursing as we were–to the mothers and children of all time. I think what I am trying to say is this: writing has given me deeper access to both the intimacies of my own life and the cross-hatch of the universal where we all overlap.
What is it like to send your work out into the world?
I have always focused on the thrill of simply getting my work in the mail in time for the deadline. For me, that’s the real triumph. Being committed to moving forward and taking action in that direction is my part of the bargain. The rest is out of my hands. If my work is published, that’s nice, too. But honestly, it doesn’t feel any better to see my name in print than it does to drop that sealed envelope in the mailbox.
What was the best advice anyone gave to you?
My mother taught me the art of breaking down a big, complex problem into its component, approachable (and therefore solvable) parts.
What helps you to pay attention to the world?
My three-year-old son. My cats and dogs. They slow me down, they stretch my heart open to greater vulnerability and compassion, to deeper listening. Also, I have come to understand that I need to bookend my days with: a morning dog walk in the forest and a before-bed bubble bath. These practices both enliven and settle me, such that I am more lucid and receptive.
My three-year-old son. My cats and dogs. They slow me down, they stretch my heart open to greater vulnerability and compassion, to deeper listening. Also, I have come to understand that I need to bookend my days with: a morning dog walk in the forest and a before-bed bubble bath. These practices both enliven and settle me, such that I am more lucid and receptive.
Thank you so much for visiting, Sage. In lieu of a nice cup of tea and slice of cake, it’ll do nicely! Now, lovely readers, get yourselves off to your favourite bookshop and buy Sage’s books!
Kaspa writes: I lapsed a little with my small stone practice. Let me tell you when I lapsed, and what I noticed when I started again…