When Who You Are Is a Gift to the World: an interview with poem-maker John Fox For each true poem born there is an origin: Blessed ignorance of words that turn To splendid fire, as stars in space will yearn To find on earth their upstretched twin. — "There Is an Origin," John Fox by Kate Lin The creative process of poem-making offers a unique avenue for growth and transformation. John Fox, a certified poetry therapist, teaches people about writing poetry throughout the United States. He is the author of the books Poetic Medicine and Finding What You Didn’t Lose. While writing a review of Poetic Medicine (published in The New Times, March 1999), I experienced firsthand the profound healing that occurs with poem-making as I worked through the exercises in the book. In my interview with John, I discovered more about the role that poetry has played in his life and gained a greater understanding of the ways that poetry can enrich our lives. Kate: How did you first become interested in poetry, and how has poetry transformed your life? John: As a child, I was keenly aware of how much I enjoyed my imagination. I had a puppet theater and made up stories to tell. I wrote stories based on odd pictures I found in Life magazine when I was seven. This was a great source of joy. When I was in the fifth grade, I was the impresario of a class "newspaper" that I started, called the 005 Press. I was trying to create excitement based on the adventures of James Bond 007! I probably had poems in that blue-ink mimeographed venture, along with lots of jokes. A few years later, when I was watching a girl skate at the local rink, I can remember writing my first real poem. I wanted, so badly, for those words to "skate" on the page. I felt I could capture that moment. Everything about it was such a mystery. Well, I continued to write. I graduated with a degree in English and Creative Writing from Bard College in upstate New York. But what has profoundly influenced my interest in poetry is how it helps me deal with my suffering, with what I don't understand. I had considerable problems with my right leg growing up. Pain and operations pushed me to dig deep into myself. Poetry was and remains a companion — sometimes a fierce companion — on my journey. It shows me not only ways to live with that difficulty, but stretches me beyond it into something that feels like soul. Kate: You work as a certified poetry therapist. What exactly is a poetry therapist, and how does one become certified to do this work? John: A poetry therapist is interested in the intentional, applied use of literature and writing for healing and growth. Poetry therapy may include using poems by Emily Dickinson, Basho, a homeless person who didn't give their name, or a ten-year-old. When using a poem with a group or for an individual, I ask this question: Is this poem going to reach the heart? Poetry therapy has two wings: the heart balances between the evocative and expressive aspects of living. So, besides reading and talking with you about the evocative quality of a poem, I would also encourage you to discover something for yourself through writing. Poetry therapy is not about making "great" poems for publication, but rather writing with as much authenticity as you can access. The blank page won't lash back at you for what you say or feel. You can be harsh or subtle, or both. If we follow this process, surprising things can happen. I trained for about three years to meet the requirements for certification as a poetry therapist. The National Association for Poetry Therapy (NAPT), through their Certification Committee, offers training and certification. For more information, one can call or write: NAPT, 5505 Connecticut Ave. NW, Washington, D.C. 20015, (202) 966-2536. Kate: One of your books is called Poetic Medicine. How can poetry act as a healing force? John: Imagery, sounds, rhythms, metaphors — the stuff of poetry — are all a kind of medicine in the form of language. They enter our system at very deep levels. The way they interact together in a poem evokes responses within us. In both writing and reading poems, we can discover something both integrating and revealing. But why is this medicine more helpful to us than what we typically think of as medicine? We seek cures and then want to continue on with our busy lives without making essential changes. In the process, we separate symptom and cause, meaning and daily life, living and dying. By doing that, our lives become fragmented. What I've noticed in my own poetry, and in the work of others, is that the process of writing poems allows us to examine the paradoxes in our lives, the mysteries. Poetry allows us the time to sit with our mixed feelings, with our joys and sorrows, as well as our diverse and even contrary experiences. A poem surprises me by giving me insight over time and helps me to recognize a tendency to go for the quick fix, to figure everything out, rather than to allow the more mysterious process of healing: integrating paradoxes, re-gathering fragments, and discovering wholeness. My book Poetic Medicine offers many pathways to connect with poetry as healer: through relationships, loss and transitions, the earth, being a witness to the world, and the life of the spirit. We don't have to leave out any aspect of living. Kate: You teach about the theme, "When Who You Are Is a Gift to the World." Can you explain what it means? John: There is something unique about each of us. That uniqueness seems to me to be a gift. However, we often get caught up in fulfilling particular roles in life rather than allowing what is unique about ourselves to flourish. The many routines in our daily lives don't allow us to recognize the way we give something important to the world. Another part of what I teach is "Revealing Uniqueness and Forming Community through Poem-Making." What I want to encourage is recognition of the unique perspective that you and I have, a perspective and range of experience that has never existed before. Poem-making gives us a way to reveal that gift to ourselves and, in the process, give it to others. This sharing creates community and a world that is rich with our gifts. Kate: How do you create a safe space while you’re teaching so that people feel free to access their deeper feelings and put them down on paper? John: That's a great question. It's really the heart of the matter, isn't it? Perhaps my most important responsibility is to bring a nonjudgmental attitude to the teaching atmosphere. That's not to say there's a vacuum! I am intensely interested and curious in what we have to say. I want to explore and encourage exploration. That is where we pick up the thread that can lead to both safety and discovery. So much of our educational system is based on assessment and judgment. In that model, there are a lot of things that may be "right," but there sure isn't much risk or surprise. I want to make risk safe and natural by encouraging people to explore and experiment. We want to enter that territory of surprise because I believe we instinctively know that it is a way to heal and renew. Surprise of this nature is a kind of rebirth, renewal, and resurrection. Why explore and experiment? The great psychologist D. W. Winnicot said that "creativity is inherent in playing and perhaps not to be found elsewhere." So I like to create exercises and experiences that increase the possibility of play. If we "ramble on weedy paths" enough, it's very likely we will come to understand what the poet Richard Shelton meant when he said, "For me writing the poem was a process by which I learned something about myself I had not previously known, at least not consciously." Another important ingredient is the practice of listening. How do I listen? Does my listening help you to hear yourself better? How do we listen to each other? I like to investigate this practice of listening in my teaching and find out just what kinds of gifts listening may offer to us. Kate: Why is it important to speak one's truth, and how can poetry help one do this? John: About the importance of speaking one’s truth, I offer those breathtaking lines in William Stafford’s poem "A Ritual to Read to Each Other": If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star… As we know too well, there are unfortunate consequences to following that wrong god home, and there is nothing quite like finding one’s star. It's been my experience that poetry and poem-making keep us tuned to what matters and strengthen our connection to something that is beyond words. John Fox teaches workshops around the United States about using poem-making for healing. He has worked with this way of healing for 14 years and is based in Palo Alto, CA. John will offer a poetry workshop in Seattle June 4-6. For more information, contact Deborah Jacroux at (425) 868-7611.