The Poets and The Sea and The Sky

How I find inspiration in a late-blooming but no less passionate love of poetry and why walks in nature are their own form of poetry.

A friend once asked me why I crave living by the ocean. I think it has something do with surrender. When I walk the beach, I feel centered, whole, open, heart- and soul-forward, able to feel everything more acutely. Maybe it’s the rhythmic lapping of the waves against my feet. Maybe it is my feet sinking into soft sand. Or maybe it’s that vast, unknowable horizon, making me feel both small and incredibly spacious at the same time.

The ocean teaches me that I may not get the answers I seek, in that moment, on that day, or even this month or this year. And that this is okay—more than okay. I can simply walk, breathe, hold my arms open to the sky, to life’s possibilities, and know that my soul will find its way. The ocean instills patience in me. It soothes my restless soul. It is always there, ready to hold me, envelop me, keep me afloat when life gets unbearably hard. It is my harbor and my anchor. And I am safe in its caress.

A friend snapped this photo of me trying to literally catch the sunset one evening on Venice Beach, Florida.

When I am overpowered by nature’s beauty, I struggle to find the words to express how I feel—but my favorite poets often know. It is only in the last few years that I have begun reading poetry avidly. As an English major, I read the celebrated poets taught in high school and college but too few of the modern poets I now love. I count among my companions today: Mary Oliver (what ever took me so long?), Marie Howe,

David Whyte

, John O’Donohue, Rupi Kaur, Ocean Vuong, Ada Limón, and Maggie Smith who we are blessed to have on Substack showing us the magic of her craft in

For Dear Life with Maggie Smith

.

These days books of poetry are all around me. There are always a couple volumes on my night table, tucked into a handbag, perched on my desk or on my kitchen table—because you never know when you will have a poetry emergency.

So today I offer you my favorite poets with the suggestion that they accompany you (either in your pocket or in your ear) the next time you’re in a landscape that stirs something inside you. Poets make great walking companions, in my experience. And paid subscribers, scroll down for the voiceover version of this newsletter.