Category Archives: a small stone

How to fall in love with the world & the poems of Jane Kenyon

Look at the world though the eyes of a poet (or an artist).

Kaspa writes: When Fiona and I moved in together we each came trailing cases full of books. We each had some visual art too, and have collected more since, but most of our belongings are paper based and word filled.

A year and a half later I’m still finding poetry on the shelves that I’ve not read before. A few days ago I pulled a slim volume called Let Evening Come from the bookcase. It was Jane Kenyon’s third collection of poems. As I read her poems my daily preoccupations faded away and I felt myself sinking into her world, and it is beautiful.

David Brazier’s thesis in Love and its Disapointment is that all art is motivated by love. Not perfect love, perhaps, but love is at the root. Reading Kenyon’s work I get a palpable sense of that love, and of its often meloncholic flavour. And the world is melancholic, even as it is beautiful.

Her observations are full of grace and as I go into the world filled with her words I think that I am paying more attention to the world. Through being immersed in her clear vision of the world, my vision is a little clearer.

Kenyon’s style of writing fits in very well with the small stone philosophy. Look at these lines from Heavy Summer Rain:

Everything blooming bows down in the rain
white irises, red peonies; and the poppies
with their black and secret centres
lie shattered on the lawn.

Or this, the second stanza, from Lines for Akhmatova:

The narrow canals gleam black and still
under ornate lamps, and in the parks
golden leaves lie on sandy paths
and wooden benches. By light of day
old women dressed in black sweep them away
with birch stick brooms.

Beautiful. So – how to fall in love with the world? Drench yourself in some of this beautiful poetry.

I have another answer too. Start writing. Start looking at the world and writing small stones, (or something longer).

If you’d like some help getting started check out Fall in Love with the World in 30 days (write small stones) for 30 days of writing tips and small stone writing guidance.

Or why not learn The Art of Paying Attention, this November. The Art of Paying Attention is one of our month long e-course where we’ll think about how we can learn to pay attention to the world, to pay attention in relationships, to pay attention to ourselves and to pay attention to spirit. (We’re offering four different e-courses in Nov/Dec – check them out here: e-courses).

I’d love to hear what poetry has helped you fall in love with the world, let me know in the comments below.

We all get things wrong sometimes…

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The awakening that is a softening of the heart comes when we see that we are all flawed.

Kaspa writes: A few weeks ago I was invited to a meeting. I was emailed instructions which included the date of the meeting. I wrote the details in my diary… time moved on.

Last Monday afternoon I got an email, “Sorry you couldn’t make the meeting. Let me know what’s going on for you…” I panicked. Had I written down the wrong date (which is something that I might have done)? I checked the email again. I’d been given the wrong date!

We both got our diaries out and rearranged the meeting.

This morning I got my stuff together, dressed a little smarter than usual, and hung around waiting to leave. I sat down, I stood up. I watched the clock. Eventually I got in the car and drove over to the meeting. Having been given the wrong date earlier, my mind started to turn over other scenarios of what might wrong.

I pulled into the car park in plenty of time. There was no sign of anyone else. I rang the buzzer. I waited. I rang the buzzer again. The muscles in my neck bunched and I began to pace.

I was working out how long was socially acceptable to wait before calling when I thought that it was probably a good idea to double check the meeting arrangements.

Thank goodness for smartphones. I checked the email conversation.

I had written the date down wrongly.

At first I was angry with myself. What a waste of a morning! But perhaps it was worth it for the flawed parts of both of us to connect. We had both managed to mess up meeting times. I was able to see their mistake in a softer light, as well as my own. The tension in my shoulders evaporated and I smiled. It was pretty funny, after all.

The drive back was beautiful. The countryside is full of amazing autumn colours at the moment, and I collected plenty of small stones.

it is autumn and the hedges are on fire

yellow ash leaves dance on the road in the wake of a rattling truck

a mottled grouse furrows a path through the sky

We’ll try and meet again next week.

Wish me luck.

What am I avoiding? (learning to celebrate good things)

Experience the world more deeply in 7 days (free new thing)

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Kaspa writes: Do you want to have deeper connection with the world? Do you want to notice more?

Join my week long experience on Mightybell.

We’ll spend seven days together, writing one small stone each day. We’ll be noticing one thing properly and writing it down.

“A small stone is a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.” From How to Write Small Stones, by Fiona Robyn

Rachel Hawes wrote a small stone every day in January. She said that:

I have to tell you, readers, I have loved writing a small stone every day for the last 31 days. It’s the most glorious exercise in mindfulness, in pulling yourself into this moment, and if you haven’t tried it yet please give it a go, if only for a week…It has come as a surprise to find so much going on out there. And an even greater surprise to realise that all that time I spend daydreaming can in fact be spent watching the world out of the window.

Join me and see how beautiful the world can be.

Petunias:
We have neglected them. They have been blooming for us since May: deep fuchsia pink, cross-hatched purple, salmon. They are tired now, leggy, but in this autumn chill they continue their push towards eternity.

a small stone by Fiona

What you get: each day you’ll get short instructions and advice, encouraging to go in to the world and to really start seeing to notice one thing each day and write it down. And each day I’ll share one of my favorite small stones with you.You’ll also be able to connect with fellow travelers on the experience, and share your thought, and your small stones.

What’s the catch? There isn’t one. We’d love some of you to join us elsewhere – on the forum, or an e-course, but this seven days is an offering I’ve created this morning, after my enthusiasm for writing small stones was re-ignited.

What do I get from writing small stones?

1) I notice things more. Other people. Things in the world. I am more awake.

Writing small stones makes me pay better attention to the world. I thought I was pretty good at paying attention – but since I’ve started writing small stones I’ve really been looking and listening to what’s going on. Really paying attention brings a whole host of things: moments of delight, as well as of longing and sadness. It deepens my connection with the whole of life.

2) Writing small stones makes me a better writer. In the act of writing I search for accurate descriptions, and for interesting metaphors and similes. I try and avoid clichés – I want my small stone to be as fresh as the moment that I noticed.

3) I love doing it.

Candice has just started writing them – on her blog she says that:

Writing small stones down is a good practice because in writing them they become an expression of praise. And if you love words, recording small stones becomes a play date. You create something very poetic without tons of effort, and more importantly to me, the practice take me away from the electronic world of email, group discussions, blog stats and Facebook. Collecting small stones brings balance into my life because it’s a more satisfying way of connecting with the world.

Candice Carden-Deal, Return2Writing

Join the seven day experience today.

Three reasons why I love writing small stones

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red kite 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…

“A small stone is a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.” From How to Write Small Stones.

In January, Fiona and I asked you all to notice one thing every day and write it down. You all produced some beautiful small stones. I took part then, and after January I kept going, noticing and writing one small stone each day, and recording some of them on my blog.

I kept writing all through the July challenge (when we invited you all to write something down each day again), and then…. We came back to the UK from France, and I was doing more hours at work. I focused on the e-courses rather than my own writing… not that these are good reasons of course. But I stopped writing small stones.

I kept seeing and hearing other people’s though. Amy Palko and Joanna Paterson started writing them. They were (very briefly) mentioned on BBC Radio Scotland. I was reading really lovely ones on our forum and on twitter with the #smallstone hash tag. A friend emailed me and asked where they could read my small stones.

I created a new badge for all you small stone writers. And I started writing again. When I started writing small stones again I noticed three things:

1) Writing small stones makes me pay better attention to the world. I thought I was pretty good at paying attention – but since I’ve started writing again I’ve really been looking and listening to what’s going on. Really paying attention brings a whole host of things: moments of delight, as well as of longing and sadness. It deepens my connection with the whole of life.

2) Writing small stones makes me a better writer. In the act of writing I search for accurate descriptions, and for interesting metaphors and similes. I try and avoid clichés – I want my small stone to be as fresh as the moment that I noticed. Through writing small stones I have learned new names for things, I have consulted colour charts and plant guides (it’s a cherry laurel at the bottom of next door’s garden) and I have turned the sounds of words over again and again…

3) I love doing it. I enjoy seeing things in the world, and I enjoy the craft of forming something beautiful with words.

If you need a fourth reason to start writing – how about the wonderful connection with people all over the world doing the same thing, each noticing one thing properly, writing it down, and sharing it on Twitter, Facebook, on their blogs, and at our forum? Such wonderful words from wonderful writers. Join us today.

Against pristine white clouds, the silhouette of a red kite, with wing-tips like splayed fingers.

Scrumptious words

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I love the taste of words.

Every day I link together a short string of words to post on my other blog, a small stone. (Don’t tell Planting Words that I post there too, she might get jealous).

If my life (or my head) is full, I snatch them wherever I can find them and scribble them down before rushing off to ‘the next thing’.

This week I’ve managed to find a little more space. On Tuesday evening I wrote my small stone in my head, and then had time to play with it.

A workman spits: the long glob flies. The sky is striped with pink and aubergine.

Long glob. They contain almost the same letters. Feel what the two words do to your tongue. That final ‘ob‘. The rhymes – flies, sky, striped. Spit and pink. The rhythm, like a stately dance. And then that last word, that seems separate from the rest of the sentence – alien, with strange vowel sounds. The slight echo of ‘work‘ in ‘ber‘, and the silky-soft g. Gggg.

Never mind what it means – there is enough in the sound of these 15 words to keep me happy until the cows come home.

PS I thought you’d prefer a photo of the clouds to one of spit.

Stale small stones and skipping a step

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For the past few weeks I’ve been struggling with my daily small stone. I just haven’t been able to find anything I want to write about.

Yesterday I had a sudden realisation. I’ve been skipping a step.

I’ve been walking through my days casting about for something to write about. Is this interesting? Could I describe that?

I’ve slipped into doing it back to front. The first step is – open your eyes. Become quiet. Notice what is there. Leave a space for the world to show itself to you.

As soon as you do this, small stones are everywhere. They rise of their own accord. All we have to do then is copy them down.