Hi friends,
So I’ve been doing this thing…
Every morning I wake up, throw on my running shoes (and as many layers of clothing necessary given the weather) and go for a run.
This is my chance to disconnect. I don’t bring my phone. No earbuds. Instead I listen. I connect with my own physical body through the motion of running, and to my physical environment with all of my senses. When I run, I try to re-connect. To pay attention.
As a practice of paying attention, last fall I started recording the things I notice while I’m outside, in the form of haiku.
Roughly seventeen syllables, nearly every day.
You must understand, though, this isn’t the Colorado foothills I’m running in every day. It’s southern Manitoba. The past winter I was running before the sun came up against -30 windchill. Not what most people think of as poem-inspiring. On those days, writing haiku became a challenge. Could I notice something new? Could I see the same old trails differently than I did the day before? (Hint: there’s always something new to see.)
Fresh Tracks in the Snow
Now I’m excited to let you know that I’ve collected my first batch of haiku! The first 100 poems, written from Oct 15, 2017 through Mar 22, 2018. These are a record of my encounters with the fall and winter worlds from the trails and roads that I call home.
Read them at RunHaiku.com.
Care to participate?
Would you like to be part of the next volume of RunHaiku? When you walk, run, bike, swim, or crawl outside, pay attention to what you see and hear. Write a short poem (don't overthink it, this is about process, not product), and email it over to me! I'll include them in a future volume of RunHaiku.
Thanks!
Brent
|
|
|
|