The Practice and Path of Ecstatic Poetry: The Soup is Ready to Serve
/It was a warm day during the late spring of 2015. I knotted my favorite bandanna behind my head, secured my heavy laptop inside my satchel bag, and readied my new hiking shoes for their first outing. It was a special day. An auspicious day. I was prepared to climb to the summit of my favorite local foothill and record a lecture that would strive to answer the question “What is ecstatic poetry?” Three words could best describe the way I was approaching my amateur videography project that day: driven, passionate, and probably a bit overzealous. (Come to think of it, this is a fine way to describe how I approach, well, most things.)
The months prior to this landmark excursion represented a period of major change for me. It was, in so many ways, a “peak” season in my life. I had just extricated myself from a tremendously-chaotic relationship; chaos that, for the most part, I myself was responsible for. I was home again, both literally and figuratively, and I wielded the intense energy of that homecoming by immersing myself in ideas and theories surrounding ecstatic poetry. In my eyes, it was long past time. I stood on a mountaintop – again, in both the literal and metaphoric sense – and, for the first time, formally declared myself a practicing ecstatic poet.
But what of the video I recorded that day on top of that mountain? Well, the good news is, it’s the most-watched video on my YouTube channel. The bad news is, that fact has had me wringing out my hands for literally years. See, it’s not exaaaaaaaactly up to my standards for such an important piece of my life’s work. In composition alone, it was, as I’ve mentioned, amateur at best. It was done in just one take, with all the clumsiness and mishap and stutters and moments of unpreparedness (note: there were many) boldly naked, exposed for the world to see. I told myself I could embrace all of that, but if I’m being honest, I never really did. In content, it was a little bit like a soup still cooking on the stove which hadn’t been given enough time for all of the veggies within to soften. The ideas were all there; the soup didn’t really need any more ingredients. But the taste of the whole thing just wasn’t mature, and viewing the video felt a little bit less like a teacher offering a lecture and more like a boy on a hill who was just really excited about some poems.
I’m still excited about some poems. And I’m still a boy who loves to hike up that very same foothill. The difference today is that the soup, I think, has been given more time on the stove. I’ve taken these ideas and molded them, worked with them and let them work on me. I’ve practiced with them for years now, written on them, researched them more deeply. I’ve taken these notions and theories about ecstatic poetry and collaborated with others, listening deeply when I was told that something wasn’t working. I’ve taught ecstatic theory and lectured about the history of ecstatic verse countless times now, each time growing myself as a practitioner, a teacher, and a lover of these concepts.
I’ve been waiting for the conditions to coalesce so I could try again, take another “whack” at it. I’ve been watching patiently for the opportunity to share what I’ve been learning and to offer my deep and abiding passion for the transformative power of ecstatic poetry to the world. I’m so grateful that my amazing friend Maddox Made Film had the interest in bringing this video project to life.
I don’t need to tell you any more about it, actually. The video speaks for itself. I hope it means something to you. If nothing more, I hope it moves forth into your life like a gentle river, whispering reminders about the profound and mystical power of Word into your ear. Ecstatic poetry is visionary art. Ecstatic poetry can change your life. This is my message, and until it evolves again into the Next Big Thing™ for me to share with you, the soup is finally ready to serve.