Traveling Outside of Our Routines: Finding Haiku Inspiration
As the airplane reached cruising altitude on my way to Haiku North America this week, I was reminded of a poem I wrote a few years ago. This senryu was inspired by P.H. Fischer’s prompt series on journeys at Haiku Dialogue (1):
alone
33,000 feet above
my identity
– Haiku Dialogue, November 9, 2022
I find it paradoxical now, as I did then, that I feel the most myself—the most alive—while separate from my daily life. And I find that this unique connection to my vulnerable, stripped-down self inspires me to write.
Sensory awareness can be easy to lose amid the monotony of day-to-day commitments. It is, perhaps, no surprise that the haiku master Bashō wrote some of his greatest works while journeying along the narrow road.
“The Narrow Road to the Deep North was life itself for Bashō, and he travelled through it as anyone would travel through the short span of his life here––seeking a vision of eternity in the things that are, by their own very nature, destined to perish. In short, The Narrow Road to the Deep North is Bashō’s study in eternity, and in so far as he has succeeded in this attempt, it is also a monument he has set up against the flow of time.” – Nobuyuki Yuasa, from his introduction to Bashō’s The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches (Penguin Books, 1966).
Travel affords us the opportunity to see things with fresh eyes. When we step away from our daily routine, we are forced to abandon the shortcuts we regularly rely upon that gloss over what we experience. The haiku moment demands sensory awareness. Haiku force us to slow down and, quite literally, smell the roses.
Maybe you are more in touch than I am and you can stay in the present moment regardless of where you are. I get overloaded easily and tend to live inside my head. Travel recalibrates my senses.
Unfortunately, travel can be expensive and time-consuming. Not everyone has the health, wealth, freedom, time, or opportunity to leave home. And travel alone is not enough to craft poetry, either. We also need a certain amount of comfort and safety to let down our guard and feel, along with the time and space to write.
How then do we cultivate a sense of travel in our daily life? And travel, in this context, is really a proxy for wonder. How do we, as haiku poets, cultivate a sense of wonder?(2)
Viewing a subject from multiple internal vantage points can inspire a haiku.
- Here’s an exercise to try:
Let’s say you want to write a haiku about roses. You might describe roses as you see them in a garden: red, fragrant, a reminder of mom. Now, mentally shift your location. How about the wild multiflora rose bushes entangled in blackberry bramble out by Grandpa’s cabin? Those roses are thorny and invasive. What if you were standing graveside looking at a funeral spray? Roses might now evoke grief and melancholy.
If you combine shifts in your personal observations and juxtapose them, a haiku moment could shake loose. Let me attempt to demonstrate by jumbling my memories above:
mother’s garden
just a few petals left
of summer
Okay, this isn’t my strongest haiku, but the moment is genuine. Mixing my memories above reminded me of an afternoon this past summer when my mom gave me a tour of her flowers, describing each plant with loving pride. And that memory calls to mind how lucky I am to still have my mom in my life. I can now throw this draft haiku into my mental drawer to rework later.
- Let’s try another exercise:
When I have led workshops on crafting science fiction haiku or tanka, I like to have participants imagine that they are space aliens. Now, go about some aspect of your daily life—something mundane and boring—and use that as a springboard for a scifaiku or sci-fi senryu. Maybe you are putting on make-up to cover your green scales. Perhaps you have to navigate the subway with a tail. What do you eat for lunch when you have tentacles? The point is to keep the setting mundane, but make one small change.
Now that I’ve shared this technique, you might notice that it applies to a number of my published sci-fi poems! The two poems below are deceptively mundane until you read their final lines:
alone, finally
I can unwind
my skin
– Seven by Twenty, September 13, 2013in-laws at the door—
those panicked moments
before I shapeshift
– SFPA 2018 Poetry Contest, Dwarf Form, 3rd place
The next scifaiku takes this exercise a step further by moving the alien interaction into outer space:
tongue lashing
by galaxy border patrol . . .
barcodes on my teeth
– Eye to the Telescope, Issue 8, April 2013
You might be thinking, but how does this apply to me? I don’t write science fiction poetry. (You should try it. It’s fun!)
Studying your subject from different external perspectives can help you write richer haiku.
Maybe you want to write a haiku about an inchworm as it makes its curious and slow way across a maple leaf.
How might the scene differ if it were colder? Windier? During a drought? What if the little critter inched over pine needles instead? How would things look at night? Can you juxtapose one of those scenarios against your original observation and shake out a draft haiku?
Similarly, you might describe the scene for a friend who has never seen an inchworm. What would this person need or want to know? What do you think is vital to share? What if your friend were a space alien? How would you describe things now? Place yourself in the mind of a bird. Maybe you are looking at lunch!
However we manage to venture outside of our daily lives and routines, mental and physical travel affords us the opportunity to perceive our world differently. And freshness of observation is one key to writing stronger haiku.
For More Reading:
(1) P.H. Fischer’s “A Good Wander: The Art of Pilgrimage” prompt series, which ran on Haiku Dialogue from October 5 to December 7, 2022:
- Introduction
- The Call to Adventure
- First Steps
- Obstacles and Trials
- Carpe Diem!
- Ruminations
- Encounters
- Purpose
- Completion
- Return
(2) Scott Mason’s The Wonder Code. 2017. Girasole Press, Chappaqua NY.
How do you keep your observation skills fresh? Do you use travel to inspire new haiku? Do you have a technique for traveling outside of your routine while still at home? Let us know in the comments!
THF strives to maintain a safe and friendly environment for our readers and site participants. Participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior of all parties. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, for any reason, at any time.
If you see something you feel may violate our Code of Conduct, please report it to the appropriate moderator or the President here.
Comments (11)
Comments are closed.
Thanks so much for mentioning Haiku Dialogue, Julie! & speaking of travel – it was great to meet you at HNA! cheers, kj
It was great to meet you too, KJ! I loved your presentation on finding community.
Thank you Julie, your article will help me to overcome the times when my muse is away or drunk!
Lol, Dan! A drunk muse might come up with some interesting poetry!
I loved reading your article and relating to it on so many levels, Julie! And Alan’s response in comments section too. Hope to keep in touch with this just to remind myself to follow it. I do follow some but there are so many points that would help further the writing skills. Thank you both and Haiku Foundation for consistent efforts to improve the quality of these unique short forms .
The more we read, share, the more we feel, there is so much more to learn too.
Hi Raji – I have been writing haiku since 2009 & I learn something new every time I interview a poet or write one of these pieces. Thanks for reading & commenting!
Dear Julie,
Thank you for your insightful article, the subject of which has been topical within my personal experience these past weeks. I recently attended a workshop through a local library called ‘Writing to Objects’ which reinforced some of the points you made and will be helpful for future writing.
Hi Carol, Thanks for your comment! Writing to objects sounds like an interesting prompt, and one appropriate for haiku poets.
Great article!
re:
How do you keep your observation skills fresh? Do you use travel to inspire new haiku? Do you have a technique for traveling outside of your routine while still at home? Let us know in the comments!
We travel in so many ways, whether a walk to a green space, or down to local shops etc…
This is an extract where we are fortunate that we have extensive green spaces, yet live in a large town. All thanks to one of King Henry VIII’s daughters (Mary 1st)!
.
Ginko: All Fingers and Thumbs with Alan Summers
Adapted/extract version
.
Methods to catch haiku:
quietly stopping
We can give at least two minutes, and then maybe even “become” part of:
.
the green of the woodland
.
I learnt while running big public renga sessions to rapidly write down something that a person has just uttered. They rarely write the words down as said and often write down the words very differently and stiffly!
.
Without prompting or editing, I wrote down what Karen had said:
.
“the green of the woodland”
.
And then we invite ourselves to begin to “notice”:
.
bluebell seedheads
.
After writing this down, from Karen uttering those two words, I wondered if it could be a two-line (duostich) haiku…
Or a 3-line (tercet) haiku:
.
the green
of the woodland
bluebell seedheads
.
I tend to avoid the stairs look, as if it’s steps going down, one line a little longer then the next, as if we are descending stairs.
A simple method of indenting lines made this a simple yet striking haiku.
I’m not able to blank out the dots, so imagine this as purely indented lines:
.
. .the green
. . . of the woodland
bluebell seedheads
Karen Hoy
.
Article and Exercise:
Ginko: All Fingers and Thumbs with Alan Summers
Blithe Spirit 33.3 (August 2023) ed. Iliyana Stoyanova
Article/exercise©Alan Summers
Thanks for sharing, Alan. I like what you’ve said here about capturing the spontaneity of language and writing the words down as the event is happening. Sometimes, we lose more than we gain when we edit (and over-edit) a poem. I usually try to keep each editing iteration of my haiku until they’ve been published,
” I usually try to keep each editing iteration of my haiku until they’ve been published”
Yes, quite true!
And when on our own, and only writing we should make the choice to keep everything.
With big multi-thousand verse renga, interacting with a large queue of people, it’s getting them relaxed. Once relaxed, it’s astonishing how we talk in poetic rhythms alongside our conversational pace. I found out fairly quickly it was best to have a pen and paper ready, and using my training, write down exactly what was said.
Those amazing little pockets of pure magic are only captured if someone else records them. The best renga verse composers were non-writers/non-poets though not trained to write as they spoke.
With our personal writing time, or on courses, it’s all different as it’s down to us, and as writers, we can make rough notes, and multiple versions, and then rest them. And make our own decisions which to send out. With someone new to a creative project it’s spontaneous and immediate, with verses transcribed onto rolling sheets, and also small cards, all 3,300 verses, going up onto library shelving! (smiles)
Alan