A Wonderful Christmas Gift to Myself: The Winter Writing Sanctuary by Beth Kempton

 

A screenshot from the Winter Writing Sanctuary Seminar on Beth Kempton's website

I initially refused this gift. A good friend of mine suggested this writing seminar last November 18. It was absolutely free. And yet, I resisted. However, I realized that I owed myself this present. I was creatively dry in 2020. And so, I said yes. 

It has been the best Christmas gift I've given myself in a long time. The seminar is broken up into 12 days of writing. I wrote a total of 16 poems! Imagine that. Beth Kempton is an amazing mentor. Her tone is so soothing and she is the epitome of encouragement. While there was a lot of winter imagery (and there's no winter in the Philippines) I still appreciated how she focused on the overwhelm one feels during the holidays. I realized that I wanted to keep this season small and sacred, considering the many heartaches and disappointments I encountered this year. This seminar helped me create just that... and more. 

I'll be posting all sixteen of my poems from this seminar in the next blog posts. Enjoy! 

Have a small, sacred Christmas, everyone, as well as a hopeful New Year! 

Here's a link to Beth Kempton's website where she offers great writing courses: Do What You Love for Life. 

Here are my Winter Writing Sanctuary poems on my blog: 

1. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.0 Welcome + warm up, Invitation B: Your favorite cuppa: Chamomile
2. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.1 Inhabiting the Season, Spark 1: BLUE
3. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.1 Inhabiting the season, Invitation C: Walk in Wonder: Kaginhawahan Bridge, November 2020
4. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.2. Changing your perspective, Invitation D: Small Stories: Dragonfly, or A Six-Month Life
5. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.3 Observing others, Spark 3: POOL
6. Winter Writing Sanctuary 1.3, Observing others, Invitation E: People Watching: B, 13
7. Winter Writing Sanctuary 1.4, Reading the season, Spark 4: Paper
8. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.4 Reading the season, Invitation F: Winter Memories: Rhodesia corner Zambia Streets, Kings Beach, north shore of Lake Tahoe
9. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.5 A precious gift, Spark 5: Discharge, September 11, 2020
10. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.5 A precious gift, Invitation G: Snail Mail: Grand Canyon
11. Winter Writing Sanctuary, Spark 2.1, Exchanging Words, Spark 6: Light
12. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 2.1. Exchanging Words, Invitation H: The Meeting: At her table
13. Winter Writing Sanctuary, 2.3 Honouring the melancholy, Invitation J: Feeling it: The Art of Extinguishment
14. Winter Writing Sanctuary 2.4, Indulging, Spark 9: Apple Pie
15. Winter Writing Sanctuary 2.5, Taking a moment, Spark 10: Peace on Earth
16. Winter Writing Sanctuary 2.6, Wrap + next steps, Spark 11: Mending

In settlement of the following

In settlement of the following 

Hopefully, things get 

paid for. Rice and chicken

and canned tuna. And

all the sins that people are

too tired to count.

How are things still running?

Well, machines are 

made that way. No

one asks an electric

fan if it’s been working

too hard. You switch it on. 

You switch it off.

You don’t ask things

if they can go on.

There is no full or 

partial fulfillment 

for the sum of 

epiphanies 

or despair. 

What is any 

of this

worth? 

It’s so hard

to write

this receipt.

September 16, 2020

Image credit: Michael Walter of Unsplash

Watching the Water

by Justine Camacho-Tajonera

The water slowly soaks up the paper.
It takes its time,
moving from one corner
upwards, outwards, spreading,
pinning the paper to the surface
of the table.
It takes its time
whether anyone watches
or not.
There are things that cannot be rushed.
There are things that cannot be stopped.
If I do nothing more,
the water will still run its course.




Image from Lostandtaken.com

Eve

by Justine C. Tajonera

Paradise was blissful
ignorance once
but for you.
Everyone thinks
to curse you and
not thank you
for opening your
eyes,
for creating
the first, the very first
problem,
for stirring
discontent.
What is the dream
if not for the long
stretch
between what is
and what
could be?
What creates greatness
but this chasm
of adversity?
I look at you
across time,
starting the first
fire,
startled by your discovery
of inadequacy.
I could be
looking
into
a mirror.


March 14, 2011

Image from: tablespace.net

Which Side of the Looking Glass

by Justine C. Tajonera

There are two sides to the looking glass:
the side I'm on and the
reflection.

I rarely cross to
the other
side.

There are many things
I do not understand
about the reflection,
I want to shape,
to sculpt
what I
see.

Sometimes, I do not know
her at all.

What shape has she bloated
into?
What flaws are evident
and hidden?
Does she have
a genuine
smile?

If the subject abdicates,
what of the
object?

The great unkown
looms behind me,
the reverse of everything
I see.
If I were
on the other
side,
would I reach out
and touch
the
glass
between us.

(Jan. 11, 2010)
Image from http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Through_the_Looking-Glass.jpg