The Invitations of a Haiku
The poetic beauty of finding God in seventeen syllables
I’m trying a new rhythm this year and that looks like moving slower and being more intentional with my time. As I looked ahead to this summer, I continually felt the nudges to “take a Sabbath” during the month of July. Being a mom of a handful of children, running a ministry, and being in a season of transition—that is easier said than done. So, I’m stepping back where I can, and Substack is one of those places. I am intentionally filling my soul in this season, so that I can continue to have the capacity to continue sharing with you here. I’ve invited some dear friends, some I’ve known for years, and some I’ve just recently met, to share with you for the month of July and I’m so excited for it. I pray you’re blessed by their words and presence here!
Amy Hoppock is one I started following early on when I joined Substack. Her weekly, poetically-written invitations at Smaller and Deeper often leave me pondering new aspects of God throughout my week. She is a gentle soul who, from my experience, has kindly welcomed me into this writing world with arms wide open. It’s an honor to welcome her to share with you today, and I pray you’re blessed by her words.
Thank you, Brianna, for the opportunity to support your Sabbath month. I'm Amy, I write at Smaller and Deeper each Sunday. I write about the small moments of ordinary grace that call us to deeper insight.
Haiku is one of my favorite smaller and deeper practices!
Seven years ago, I accepted an unexpected but intriguing invitation to join a haiku group. The commitment was to write haiku, choose one each month to share, create a postcard, share the art/haiku card, receive two others, write a response (haibun) to each haiku, and engage in a conversation about each haiku and haibun once a month.
Seven years later, we are (mostly) still at it. It's my favorite conversation of the month because it's unexpected, profound, and always awe-inspiring. It's filled with wisdom, creativity, grace, and faith. It's the kind of conversation we might all long to have but need places or people to have them with.
The practice of haiku has enriched my life in so many surprising ways.
Writing haiku has taught me to find the essence, to see through the adjectives to the verb and noun. With its seventeen-syllable form, there isn't room for adjectives and wandering prose to find meaning. I have to distill before I write the one thing that moved me that caught my attention. I have to dig deeper; sure, the flowers and birds are beautiful and engaging, but haiku asks, why? Why this bird? Why this flower? It's a way to get to the heart and soul quicker. With just seventeen syllables, not even words, there isn't the luxury of extra words to describe a scene, moment, or feeling. (You could say haiku is a smaller and deeper practice at its very core.)
Haiku has taught me to keep my eyes and ears open, alert, and aware. The commitment to write at least one meaningful, worth-sharing haiku each month is a pressure that keeps me engaged in my daily rounds in a way I'm not sure I would be without the gentle, positive pressure to present my fellow haiku authors with something of meaning.
Haiku has invited me to a larger appreciation of poetry in general. I look to poets for words, guidance, insight, and beauty more than ever.
Finally, haiku has taught me the power of form. The form of a haiku is five, seven, five syllables. There is something powerful about being confined by an ancient, agreed-upon structure. The longer I work with the form, the more I appreciate the simple structure's challenges and gifts. I find myself counting syllables and thinking this word is three syllables. Am I willing to use three of my five syllables for this word? Can I find a two-syllable word that completes the idea? The form teaches and enforces an economy of use beyond syllables; it's about meaning, wisdom, beauty, and invitation. I want my words to communicate the soul and the beauty and invite the reader to their own reflections and grace.
Example of a haiku and haibun (response)
Inspiration: "torrents of oblivion made me afraid" (psalms 18)
Haiku:
unaware, unseen
oblivion is common
look, see, unafraid
Haibun:
In my daily reading a few months back, this line from Psalms 18 caught my attention. I'm unsure what exact translations I was reading, but I jotted it down in my Haiku notebook and wrote this haiku in response.
I liked this line because it feels real. Fear is everywhere. The potential for danger, anxiety, and loss permeates the air we breathe and the voices we hear.
Torrents of oblivion made me afraid. Torrents are rushing, flooding water—something powerful, unexpected, and on the move. There is a sense that one could be sucked under when a torrent is headed in our direction. But torrents are everywhere, not just a river outside its banks; social media is a torrent of information, entertainment, and fear tailor-made to lull us into oblivion.
Oblivion means being unaware or unconscious. While oblivion is a seemingly easy choice, it has the potential to create a torrent that, instead of insulating us from the fear we are trying to run from, actually increases fear.
I wonder if the antidote to torrents of oblivion is access to and awareness of our deepest depths, finding and dwelling in divine peace through awareness of all the voices trying to grab our attention. Awareness, seeing, accessing our deepest depths, listening to and curating the voices, seems like the narrow path through torrents of oblivion.
When was the last time you wrote a haiku? This is your invitation to write haiku.
I like thinking of haiku as putting a frame around a moment. (Which is the title of our haiku book1.)
A haiku is poetry with boundaries. The format is 5-7-5.
Line 1: 5 syllables (This can be one, two, or five words. I do what I learned in elementary school and clap out the syllables!)
Line 2: 7 syllables
Line 3: 5 syllables
That's it! You've written a haiku.
Some of my best haiku writing tips:
I find that it's helpful to identify an idea and then think about the absolute essence of the idea. I will ask myself questions like:
What is the energy?
What is the feeling?
What is the longing?
Why did the sight, emotion, event, word, etc., catch my attention?
What is the smallest and deepest way to express myself?
What descriptive words are needed, and what is excess?
I like to use a line that "sparkled" as inspiration for writing a haiku (torrents of oblivion…)
Sometimes, I find inspiration or a start from a word, either a word that seems interesting, beautiful, or challenging. (Words like tendency, folded," and "slowly)
I often write a haiku and then play with the syllables and even lines to find the final haiku. Sometimes, the first line becomes the third. Even seventeen syllables need to be edited and refined.
Listen in on one of our recent Haiku Conversations here: https://www.profoundliving.live/haiku-narratives
Many thanks to Amy Hoppock for sharing her heart on experiencing God today. As always, I’m grateful for your presence here, with us today.
Substack always offers their writers the option to open up for paid subscriptions. I know many writers on this platform offer this to their subscribers, but for me, I hope to always keep what I offer here in this space free of charge. My husband and I serve in support-based missions work in diaspora ministry, specifically in immigrant and refugee care. If you want to support my writing—you could give a one-time or recurring donation to our ministry and that would be a huge blessing.
Thank you Brianna for the opportunity to support your sabbath month! My daily reading from the Book of Common prayer this morning included Psalms 18 (torrents of oblivion…) such synchronicity! 😉