Introduction by Ted Kooser: Barbara Crooker, who lives in Pennsylvania, has become one of this column's favorite poets. We try to publish work that a broad audience of readers can understand and, we hope, may be moved by, and this particular writer is very good at that. Here's an example from her collection, Gold, from Cascade Books.

Grief

is a river you wade in until you get to the other side.

But I am here, stuck in the middle, water parting

around my ankles, moving downstream

over the flat rocks. I'm not able to lift a foot,

move on. Instead, I'm going to stay here

in the shallows with my sorrow, nurture it

like a cranky baby, rock it in my arms.

I don't want it to grow up, go to school, get married.

It's mine. Yes, the October sunlight wraps me

in its yellow shawl, and the air is sweet

as a golden Tokay. On the other side,

there are apples, grapes, walnuts,

and the rocks are warm from the sun.

But I'm going to stand here,

growing colder, until every inch

of my skin is numb. I can't cross over.

Then you really will be gone.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by Barbara Crooker, “Grief” (Gold, Cascade Books, 2013). Poem reprinted by permission of Barbara Crooker and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2016 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

I recently participated in Sarah Jenks’ Live More Challenge. For two weeks, I put more thought into what would make life more delicious, what would feed my life (rather than just my body), and for two weeks I noticed a genuine lightening of my spirits. I looked forward to each day’s challenge. I also learned that living more required planning, and I need to make time for fun every day. (You can see my Live More posts if you follow me on Instagram.)  

While this may sound frivolous in the face of this world’s tragedies, I’ve learned that my being unhappy will not make this world safer or better. My being happy, however, just might rub off on those around me, and help someone else feel better, too. So with that in mind, I’ve compiled a list of 25 simple pleasures for us to try. Won’t you join me?

1. Instead of a blaring alarm clock, wake up to music, nature sounds, or something else that pleases your ear.

2. Call a friend—or (gasp!) write a letter.

3. Take a nap (I won’t tell). 

4. Crank up some music. Choose music from the time you were happiest for an extra boost. 

5. Clean or declutter a drawer or shelf.

6. Bake something and share with a friend or neighbor.

7. Read, sketch, or simply people watch at a coffee shop. If you’re into pumpkin spice lattes, now’s the time to order one! 

8. Go picking—find an orchard or farm that hosts you pick opportunities and fill a basket or bag with fresh produce.

9. Finish a project. Whether it’s a bathroom update or an art project, fixing something that’s broken, or mending an item of clothing.

10. Buy one perfect treat (cupcake, scone, handmade chocolate, glass of wine, etc.). Consume it without any distractions and enjoy every mouthful.

11. Buy or collect fresh flowers. Find a place to put them where the cat won’t eat them. (Or is this a problem only I have?)

12. Schedule a field trip to explore someplace new. Or revisit a place you love—your choice.

13. Perform an anonymous act of kindness.

14. Look the cashier (or the server, or the librarian) in the eye and smile.

15. You know that pile of magazines you’ve been meaning to read? Grab it and curl up in bed for a couple of hours.

16. Take a walk in your neighborhood with your camera or phone. Take photos of your favorite places and things—anything that grabs your attention. 

17. Sit comfortably for 10 minutes and do nothing. (It’s harder than it sounds.)

18. Take a class, in person or online. Choose something you’ve always wanted to try. Some fun ones I’ve come across: soap making, altered journals, aromatherapy, wine making. Of course, I highly recommend my friend Laure’s art classes.

19. Drink a cold glass of water. You’ll be refreshed and energized—just watch out for brain freeze.

20. Tell someone a joke.

21. Sip a hot cup of tea, coffee, or cocoa.

22. Rewatch your favorite movie. Maybe even eat some popcorn.

23. Sit outside, close your eyes and listen. See if you can identify five different sounds.

24. Groom your dog/cat/rabbit/ferret/horse. Give him or her treats and extra love. I still miss my dog so much, so be sure you enjoy them while you have them. 

“If you leave a puddle of water standing for a few days, it will become poisonous and nasty, ridden with algae and bug larvae. On the other hand, you can get fresh, clean drinking water from a spring that has been running for a thousand years. People who refuse to change are stagnant and old by their twenties. People who actually pursue change are guaranteed to die young. They are like flowing water, forever refreshed and refreshing.”

—Martha Beck, Finding Your Own North Star

Photo courtesy Micah H.

Do you feel it? It’s fall. At least according to the calendar (and in the Northern Hemisphere). Many places, central Florida included, still feel like summer, but fall began yesterday, with the fall equinox at 10:21 a.m.

“Equinox,” which comes from Latin, means “equal night.” The fall equinox is one of the two days a year when day and night are equal—and some say the earth is in balance.

Besides balance, other concepts connected to the fall equinox include wholeness, reflection, and pause. Traditionally, it is a time of harvest, and a time of storing up for the winter.

As you know, fall is my favorite season. A time when I eagerly wait for the first cold front of the year to bring in drier, cooler air. While that is still likely a month or more away, the light looks different already—the way it falls, the shadows it casts. And my horse is growing his winter coat.

Fall is a lull between summer and the rush of the holiday season. It’s the perfect time to reflect on how the year has gone so far, and how we wish it to finish up. The perfect time to evaluate the balance of our lives, and our inner harvests.

It’s also a time of storing away for the future. We consider what we can to do prepare for the winter ahead, both literal and figurative. We tweak our habits and create comforting rituals for when times get tough. While we’re feeling good is the time to prepare for times we don’t feel so good.

Of course, we can’t stay balanced perfectly all the time, or we’ll never make progress towards our big dreams. Sometimes one area of life has to suffer in order for another to leap forward or thrive. For me, this year has been about building my freelance business and renovating our master bathroom. Many areas of interest and activity have taken a back seat while I concentrate on these ongoing projects. Even so, I still seek balance between doing and being, between giving and receiving, between thinking and feeling, and between work and play. Striving for the type of balance that feels right brings wholeness.

What is your favorite thing about fall?

Photo courtesy Jamie R. Mink

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Here's a poem by Debra Nystrom about what it feels like to be a schoolgirl in rural America. No loud laughter echoing in the shopping mall for these young women. The poet lives in Virginia and this is from her book, Night Sky Frequencies, from Sheep Meadow Press.

Restless After School

Nothing to do but scuff down

the graveyard road behind the playground,

past the name-stones lined up in rows

beneath their guardian pines,

on out into the long, low waves of plains

that dissolved time. We'd angle off

from fence and telephone line, through

ribbon-grass that closed behind as though

we'd never been, and drift toward the bluff

above the river-bend where the junked pickup

moored with its load of locust-skeletons.

Stretched across the blistered hood, we let

our dresses catch the wind while clouds above

dimmed their pink to purple, then shadow-blue—

So slow, we listened to our own bones grow.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Debra Nystrom, “Restless After School,” (Night Sky Frequencies and Selected Poems, Sheep Meadow Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Debra Nystrom and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2016 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.