by Jennifer Chauhan

Nine years ago, I began the practice of reading a poem as part of my morning routine, along with drinking warm water with lemon, walking, and journaling. I had just signed up for poets.org’s “Poem-A- Day” (delivered right to my inbox every morning), and I found myself waking up eager to read what poem had been selected.

I loved the range of poetry and poets I was exposed to and how, often, the words resonated for me personally. There was language to what I was feeling. There was brilliant imagery and raw emotions and curious questioning. So much questioning about life, about why we’re here, and about how we can find authentic meaning in our experiences.

I decided then to read a “Poem of the Day” to the 7th and 8th graders during our weekly writing workshops at Red Bank Middle School, most of the time the very same poem I had read that morning. I told them to listen to the words (even closing their eyes if they wished) and let whatever phrases, images, or ideas sink in. We never analyzed or annotated, and we didn’t always write in response to them.

Reading a poem became our own version of mindfulness—a different way for us to take a collective breath, to forget what was swirling around outside of us, and to set the tone for the rest of the class.

I don’t consider myself an expert on poetry. Even as a high school English teacher, I struggled with whether I was teaching a valid interpretation of Emily Dickinson’s use of the em-dash or the theme of self in Walt Whitman’s work. Sometimes I felt like a complete fraud.

I am also shy about writing poetry myself, feeling every line coming out of me a cliché, full of sentimental ramblings. My writing leans more toward the simple and realistic than the lyrical and abstract.

And yet, I cannot get enough of reading poetry the same way I cannot get enough of listening to a favorite song over and over (which I did this morning on my walk). Reading poetry allows me to cry, to smile, to rage, to love. It allows me to breathe deeply. It allows me to imagine and dream. It allows me to be seen.

Reading poetry for me is an emotional experience, not an intellectual one. And maybe that’s why I like beginning my classes this way, in the hopes that my students too will have their own internal awakenings.

Today, with most of my classes, we write in response to the poems we read, taking whatever phrase, word, image, idea, or emotion that’s resonating and freewriting for five to seven minutes.

I’m always in awe of what comes out during these freewrites. Feelings, memories, stories that were tucked away in the unconscious realm moving out onto paper. A deeper sense of our true selves in that moment. That we wouldn’t have access to without the prompt, without the invitation.

Maybe that’s what poetry is for me—an invitation to be still and yet explore, an invitation to give voice to our fears, our joys, our hopes, our dreams. An invitation to be our real selves.

As one of my adult students shared: “The mindfulness writing off a word or phrase or image from poetry opens a conduit into my subconscious. If I can allow that channel to remain open and follow where my subconscious takes me, I can discover a clarity that I might not have otherwise realized.”

I am grateful to all of the poets whose work has affected and inspired me, who in turn have affected and inspired my students. Who have reminded all of us that we are not alone.

Here’s a list of some of my favorites (this list is by no means complete). I hope you use these poems for your own mindfulness writing. I’d love to hear what happens for you and I’d love for you to share some of your favorites with me, so I can share them with my students. Feel free to email me at jennifer@projectwritenow.org. I look forward to talking poetry with you!

“Country of Water,” by Mahogany L. Browne
“Night Needs No Stars,” by Youmna Chlala
“awaiting a carriage, any,” by Bernard Ferguson
“My First Memory (of Librarians),” by Nikki Giovanni
“For Keeps,” by Joy Harjo
“Remember,” by Joy Harjo
“These Poems,” by June Jordan
“pronunciation,” by Leora Kava
“This Beautiful Planet,” by Dorothea Lasky
“Instructions on Not Giving Up,” by Ada Limón
“The Atom No. 18,” by Sarah Mangold
“Maps,” by Yesenia Montilla
“Naming the Heartbeats,” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
“Wrap,” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
“Gate A-4,” by Naomi Shihab Nye
“So Much Happiness,” by Naomi Shihab Nye
“Valentine for Ernest Mann,” by Naomi Shihab Nye
“Between Going and Coming,” by Octavio Paz
“A House Called Tomorrow,” by Alberto Ríos
“When Giving Is All We Have,” by Alberto Ríos