Hi,
Lately, I’ve realized how close poetry and meditation feel to one another. They both start in silence. They both ask me to pay attention. And they both lead me somewhere I can’t get to by rushing.
When I meditate, my thoughts scatter at first. Lists, worries, random memories. But if I sit long enough, they start to organize themselves. It’s almost like my mind is filing them away, leaving behind only the fragments that matter. That’s when sentences begin to form — not polished, not finished, just the raw beginnings of a thought I can follow.
This is exactly how I write. I don’t go searching for words. I wait until they rise, and then I try to hold onto them long enough to give them shape. The process feels less like invention and more like discovery.
Science has something to say about this too. Meditation changes the brain — it strengthens the prefrontal cortex, which is the part of us that organizes, focuses, and gives meaning. It quiets the background noise so the important pieces can finally be heard. And poetry uses that same focus, except instead of silence, it leaves you with language.
But what I love most isn’t the science, it’s the way both practices remind me that meaning comes from presence. You don’t force it. You notice it. And in noticing, something opens up — whether it’s a breath that feels lighter or a sentence that finally says exactly what you’ve been holding inside.
Writing, like meditation, is just another way of listening.
Talk soon,
Poems I’ll Never Post
✨ P.S. My book Tears of the Soul is almost here. It’s a collection born out of moments like these — not rushed, but gathered from stillness, memory, and presence. You can get it here: https://getbook.to/tearsofthesoul.
DM me “I got the book!” when it arrives, and I’ll share your story.
Artwork from Tears Of The Soul