The cover of my current journal features a bright, colorful tree surrounded by vibrant earth and sky. It gets me thinking about how wide our writing can reach, much like the sparks that seem to be flying off the tree and reaching underground, too. It reminds me that we need deep root systems and many shades of experience (not a singular existence). It inspires me to stretch w-i-d-e-r … literally to scrawl in large letters and to run off the page.
I am grateful for many sources of inspiration, imagination, and calls for dreaming of a different and more just world. Recently, these sources have included for me the Palestine Diaspora Movement’s demands beyond a ceasefire; Ada Limón‘s poem “Instructions on Not Giving Up“; and even learning about the Bookkeeping Cooperative and their workshops “Building Shared Futures: Planning with Budgets, Cash Flow, Reserves, and Savings” (and they have lots of resources, including on cooperative and solidarity economies).
Sources of inspiration come from many directions. Whenever I am feeling unsure or stuck or shrunk into myself, it helps to pause and ask: What is inspiring me right now? What might I read or learn to get unstuck? Where might I seek inspiration? What around me anchors or grounds me (like a tree’s root system)? And what around me extends or lifts me up (like a tree’s many branches)?
Productivity pressures within racial capitalism and white supremacy culture encourage a constant state of over (overwhelmed, overstretched, overcommitted). As a counter, I appreciate inspirations to dig deep within ourselves, to get grounded in our root systems, to move at our own paces, and to resist everyday oppression. So when I say inspiration to stretch W-I-D-E-R, I do not mean to do more. I mean instead to resist anything that constricts or limits the potential we hold, especially potential for disrupting the way things are. I mean instead, to reach outward, like the tree’s many branches.
My body feels good when I literally, somatically s-t-r-e-t-c-h, releasing tension and lengthening within myself. Similarly, my writing self feels good when I stretch beyond the expectations, narratives, or disciplining for how I “should” be writing. Stretching w-i-d-e-r than those expectations / those limits means reaching to address collective needs and to do collective actions, too. Like the tree on my journal, even when I imagine myself alone, I am not. I am part of a vast network with life all around: over, under, side-to-side, within, and around. I want to write from this wider, stretched-out place in which inspiration abounds.
I share these reflections with wishes for continued inspiration, for collective action, and for community support.
To be in community, consider joining an upcoming writing retreat. Or write with one of these reflective poetry prompts from previous writing retreats. Or consider journaling on your own (this past post describes some of the reasons to make journaling a regular practice).
Many good wishes, especially for stretching w-i-d-e-r than we’re meant to be. ~ Beth
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This post is written by Beth Godbee, Ph.D. for Heart-Head-Hands: Everyday Living for Justice. This is one of several posts about trees, including the related “Mantras to Stand TALL for Justice.”
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