Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, 2009-13 Kansas Poet Laureate, is a poet, writer, and founder of Transformative Language Arts at Goddard College, where she teaches. Author of more than 20 books of poetry, fiction, memoirs, and anthologies. With singer Kelley Hunt, she co-leads Brave Voice writing and singing retreats. Caryn leads writing workshops widely, offers one-on-one writing coaching, and roams the prairies as a visiting scholar. Catch Caryn's free monthly newsletter here. She pictured here with her administrative assistant, Shay.
Connect with Caryn
Read Caryn's Words in Everyday Magic, her blog, essays and interviews, and books of poetry, fiction, memoir, and anthologies, including her newest book, Miriam's Well, coming out this spring. Click here to get your book (free shipping).
Join a Writing Workshop: Caryn bi-monthly retreats for people living with serious illness (as patients or caregivers) through Turning Point in Kansas City, wild weather workshops through the Kansas Humanities Council, and other offerings. More here.
Create Your Own Right Livelihood Through the Arts through the Transformative Language Arts Network's Right Livelihood Professional Training with Laura Packer and Caryn, June - October, 2018. More here.
Earn Your MA at the Goddard Graduate Institute where Caryn and other fine people teach students in self-designed, low-residency (study from your home community, and attend two week-long residencies each year) degrees in Transformative Language Arts, Health Arts & Sciences, Social Innovation and Sustainability, Consciousness Studies, and Individualized Studies. More here.
Catch Caryn's Newsletter: Receive a pithy newsletter each month with a writing prompt, featured writer, and news of upcoming workshops, readings, and happenings. Click here.
With temperatures rising to summertime and good rains falling last week, everything is speeding into growth around this house. The hostas look like they’re on steroids, and all blossoming things are exploding into petals until they’re spent to thin, brown paper. Within the house of this human, a whole lot is growing exponentially too, coming to fruition at 80 mph. A bunch of projects that seemed maybe-ish are definite, meaning my days are full with finalizing an extensive online class with Laura Packer on our Right Livelihood Professional Training, watching clips of pre-Holocaust Jewish life in Europe for an upcoming Osher class, working with students on thesis projects and coaching clients on books, and many manner of other soon-to-harvests in the works.
The downside of such explosive growth is how behind I am on weeding — the garden and my mind, which is overrun with tendrils of this issue to solve or that decision to make. As I make my way through a lot of lists and a pile of work, I find — no surprise — that my mind spins with how to get through the mountains of work beyond this mountain in front of me. So instead of counting sleep, I’m counting tasks and hours ahead late at night, planning how to do justice to the work I love when it’s in such a state of overgrowth. There’s also some fearsome and stressful edges in my work to navigate, trying not to get myself into such a state that I can’t navigate the wild waters well.
This is old hat for most of us dwelling in a state of overgrowth, yet sitting on this porch sipping iced tea, I’m reminded, as always by this beautiful world of greening presencethat my little worries and plottings are just the tiny picture shows playing in my frontal lobe. Beyond that is the vastness of this: a late spring morning, the hummingbirds zooming toward the feeder, the dog suddenly up from his long nap to watch a carpenter bee floating toward the walnut tree, the tired car, mud-splattered, napping on the pavement, the delicate wind winding through all that’s opening, doing its thing, then collapsing back again. Like me who will soon close this computer and take a nap on this porch while the world whirls in place.