i write best when I stop trying to be good and start trying to be honest

your AMA questions answered - getting personal as always

Yesterday, the poet Andrea Gibson transitioned into the next light. Thank you, Andrea Gibson, for reminding us that poems can be a life raft, a scalpel and song all at once. Thank you for being brave enough to say the things and for using your voice like a lantern. You made so many people feel less strange for being who they are. We’ll keep writing. We’ll keep saying the unsayable. We’ll try to carry it well.

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Good morning,

or whatever time it is in the day when you read this. Thank you, thank you for your questions. Here are the ones I’ll be answering today.

What do you tend to dream about at night?

What are you dreaming about today?

What is a thing you don’t usually share online but will secretly share to all these strangers right now - thanks in advance!!!

Do you have a ritual you follow before sitting down to write?

Why do you post photos of yourself with your writing, and what is it you want the audience or reader to see?

Would you mentor?

Are you trying to break any habits?

What are some ways you practice kindness to yourself?

How do you know if you’re receiving a sign?

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What do you tend to dream about at night?

The past, strangely intertwined with things I haven’t processed yet. Strange, strange metaphors. All my old homes. Getting up on stage with nothing prepared. People I love but talk to less these days. My subconscious is cinematic and funny. It sends me back into rooms I thought I’d outgrown, just to see how I respond. I don’t always understand what I’m seeing, but I know dreams are often messages. When I pay attention, I usually find they were trying to prepare me for something I hadn’t yet named. Writing after dreaming is my sweet, sweet spot.

What are you dreaming about today?

Today, I’m dreaming about rest, the kind that reorients a life. Saying no without guilt or obligation and having a body that doesn’t flinch from itself. I’m dreaming of rooms with no mirrors, slow mornings, projects that feel like devotion instead of a cheque, instead of survival. Building something that lasts. A home, a world, or an offering that keeps me well while it reaches others. Today, I’m dreaming of enough. Enough peace. Enough breath. Enough time to feel it all and not rush through any of it. That’s the dream that’s guiding me right now.

What is a thing you don’t usually share online but will secretly share to all these strangers right now - thanks in advance!!!

I get overwhelmed easily, and a lot of the soft things I do for myself are to keep my brain and heart from frying. Sometimes I am less social than I need to be. I work hard so I dont struggle with joy. Sometimes, even good things feel like a load of stimulus that I want to back away from. There are too many notifications (and mine are turned off). I lose the thread. I don't always reply back. There are people in my life who find me very mysterious, but I’m likely just sleeping and forgetting to answer texts.

Do you have a ritual you follow before sitting down to write?

I do… it’s not always consistent. Some days it’s a walk. Or silence. Or coffee in bed. The only real ritual I trust is coming back to myself, back to the question of what is true right now. Sometimes I start writing in Notes without knowing I’ve begun. I don’t believe in romanticising the writing process too much; for me, it’s more animal than that, more instinct than routine. But I always try to clear a little space for the truth to land. That’s a kind of ceremony. I write best when I stop trying to be good and start trying to be honest.

Why do you post photos of yourself with your writing, and what is it you want the audience or reader to see?

I’ve never thought about this before because I thought it was fairly natural in these social medias and on these broadcasting platforms, but for the sake of this question, I will dig a little deeper. I was taught that to be ‘good’, I should stay out of the frame, which was too easy after being brought up the way I was. So for a long time, I disappeared myself. More energetically than anything else. But the body that writes the thing matters. The face that has lived the poem. I’m not interested in being invisible. I’m not interested in making my audience “just focus on the work.” I am the work. The words came through this mouth, this skin, this history, which is a reclamation. When I post a photo of myself alongside the writing, I’m not thinking about it too much, but these thoughts don’t appear in a vacuum. Beauty, grief, Blackness, womanhood, history, desire, and defiance all live together in me, and they surely show up in what I make. I am a person, not a disembodied quote on a beige square, not a brand. An at times vulnerable human being who dares to be seen.

Would you mentor?

Yes, but probably not in the way you think. I’m more interested in helping people feel something again, un-numb and remember and tell the truth beautifully, without shame. If I mentor, it’s through conversation, presence, and story. I want to be the kind of person I needed when I was scared and bright and hiding. I’ll teach you how to sit with the thing that haunts you long enough to write something real. If that’s what you want, then yes, I mentor. See MEETINGS above or email meetingyrsa@gmail.com.

Are you trying to break any habits?

Oat milk. (It’s broken.)

Taking on too many projects

Shrinking the truth so it fits into someone else’s comfort zone.

Diluting the “no.”

Softening what I need.

Making sure I’m palatable before I’m honest.

It’s sneaky. Especially as a woman, especially as someone who’s performed likability for survival. I’m breaking the habit of smoothing everything over.

What are some ways you practice kindness to yourself?

I let myself stop. I let myself begin again. I don’t punish myself for being too tired to be impressive. I try not to lie to myself about what I can handle. I take myself out and don’t check my phone. Let my body take the lead sometimes, even when it doesn’t make sense to my schedule. Forgive myself often and out loud. I say “of course you’re tired” and “you did quite well.” I remember I’m still learning. I remind myself it’s not meant to look perfect.

How do you know if you’re receiving a sign?

Because it won’t leave me alone and shows up in too many forms to be a coincidence. Like a stranger will say something that matches the phrase that’s been echoing in my chest, and I’ll open a book, and there it is again. Ooooh, one of my talents and great joys in life is following a feeling, a spark. A sign for me is a pattern or shadow that keeps returning, asking to be noticed. It usually points me back to the life I want to live anyway. So I follow the thing. Course I do!