I think every artist— all of us, no matter what we make— needs a regular way to clear the mind and get back on track. I like to use a daily walk for this.
Today I’ll share a way to make your microseasonal walk more of a contemplative practice.
Lectio, from the Latin meaning: I choose, gather, read.
Lectio is an ancient way to meditate on a word or phrase.
In this process, we hope to engage the whole mind— the critical-analytical abilities and the intuitive-creative process as well. This is why the practice of lectio can be a great help to artists of every sort. It engages the mind, emotions and heart in a united practice.
In early Christianity, lectio divina was used to read and pray with scripture, a practice that still continues today. I love this way of reading and practice it regularly.
I find it a useful and beautiful way of reading secular poetry and prose, as well.
Four Steps of Walking Lectio
First, choose a reading.
Read slowly and look for a word or phrase that stands out to you.
Sometimes people describe it as a word/phrase that “shimmers.”
Begin your walk and Reflect on what draws you to this word/phrase.
Kindly, without judgement, ask yourself what arises in your emotions, memory and imagination from this word/phrase?
What questions come to mind?
Try not to think too hard. Just stay curious.
Listen for an invitation in this word/phrase.
What might be quietly calling to you?
What might be challenging you?
What new idea is taking shape in you?
Rest in Silence for the rest of your walk.
Breathe and say your word/phrase silently as you walk. Try not to speak to yourself except for the word/phrase you have chosen.
Just listen to the sound of the word.
When your mind wanders (and it will many times) try to notice, and gently return to your word/phrase and breathing.
Poetry lends itself especially well to this practice. But you can use anything that you like. Maybe even a word or phrase from a piece you’ve written and want to engage with more creatively.
Here is a very old poem to get you started from our wise friend, Rumi.
Take it for a walk and see what happens.1
“As A Wick Does”
There is nourishment like bread
that feeds one part of your life,
nourishment like light for another.
There are many rules about restraint
with the former, but only one rule
for the latter. Never be satisfied.
Eat and drink the soul substance
as a wick does with the oil it soaks in.
Give light to the company.
—Rumi
Translation by Coleman Barks
I’ll see you in the next microseason,
xo Ann
To learn more about the contemplative life, check out the substack and long-running podcast, Contemplify by Paul Swanson.
I love this idea. It's been a long time since I've engaged in the practice of lectio. Your post has reminded me how much I used to get from this. I'll do this on my walk tomorrow.
That sounds great. I've done this on occasion, but not often enough. Trying to find my rhythm for writing, this poem surely gives a clue! Thanks Ann, beautiful photos.