In the early morning, I sit for a while in quiet mindfulness (or good intentions anyway). After that, I spend time with poetry or inspirational reading, with my journal, and with Bob the Cat snoozing in my lap. Then I cue up the computer. Truth be told, it’s my time with the computer that makes me feel truly connected. That’s when my friendships and my feelings for the world get real.

For one thing, every day, I receive at least three “feeds” from poetry sites. Reading the many voices from around the world reminds me that poetry has many expressions, but humanity is one. Sometimes I recognize the names of the poets. Occasionally I know one of them personally. The stories they tell and the emotions they reveal make them all personal. And my own efforts at writing and publishing poetry fall into perspective.

My email often brings letters from friends. One in particular. In the olden days, this friend and I used to carry on an extended correspondence by snail mail. I have a bin full of her paper letters. I intend to donate these to her alma mater as The Personal Correspondence of Two Twentieth Century Poets. Some future graduate student researcher (if there are any English majors left) writing a thesis paper may have to guess at the other half of the exchange, that is, my letters to her. But never mind. My friend’s letters alone are a goldmine of cultural and literary perspective. Now we talk by email. That’s great, but I haven’t yet created a reliable archive to keep the comments accessible. Perhaps that future researcher can dig it all up, like a digital archaeologist.

I discover other connections, too, as I click the Delete button down the list of advertising, informational sites, newsfeeds, and junk mail. Opening my email is a surprise gift every day. As a favorite poet, Gary Miranda, once wrote:

Who knows what spiked image
you plan to drive into our
hearts today? What happy
things wait like familiar coats
on the backs of so many chairs?

Gary Miranda
from “The Small Owl of Complaint” in Listeners at the Breathing Place

Finally, I click on the websites or, yes, Facebook pages of people I appreciate having in my life.

What a busy social life I have before nine o’clock in the morning!
Takes me at least three cups of coffee to enjoy it all.