The Poetry of a Busy Life: Cultivating Daily Habits for Your Writing Practice
I do it to myself. I chose to adopt a cat, then a dog, then a guinea pig. I decided to work full-time and have two beautiful children. I chose a husband who moved us to a different country and who works a lot. I chose to love all of that and still yearn for more. More words. More books. More poems. More life. More messy. More wild. What I really need isn’t less. I don’t want less of the job I am passionate about, nor do I want less of my kids, kids I would step in front of a bus for. It isn’t fewer opportunities or less fun. What I need is MORE. More moments of noticing. More practicing ‘poet’s mind.’ More quiet times where I am aware that I am a teensy, tiny speck of nothingness, yet also a part of this mysterious, awe-inspiring community of humans who choose to work together and love one another. I want more of how I feel when I am in ‘poet’s mind’.
What Is ‘Poet’s Mind’?
We’re so busy. It can feel impossible, selfish even, to carve out time to be creative. To write and read. Yet, poetry has always been one of the most essential of human arts—a way to make sense of our experiences, to wonder, and to feel. Even in a world that moves faster than ever, poetry thrives. The key is not to wait for a quiet, uninterrupted stretch of time, but to cultivate habits that allow poetry to become a part of our daily lives. To actively practice having a poet’s mind.
Rethinking What “Time to Write” Means
The truth is, poems rarely arrive fully formed anyway. More often, they start as fragments—a phrase overheard on the bus, an image caught while we are busy living our lives. That 3 am pressing need to get a feeling on paper so we can understand it better.
Finding time to write poetry doesn’t mean blocking out hours. Sometimes, it means being attentive. The poet Mary Oliver once said that “attention is the beginning of devotion.” Poetry begins in actively noticing. This morning on my way to get myself some much-needed morning coffee, I noticed large swaths of golden morning light lying across the road. It is a bit misty in the mornings, and out of a pool of darkness emerged a small buck with furry antlers that shone in the light when it loped back into the woods beside me. That was it. That moment probably took five seconds, but I am still feeling a little awe-struck if I am being honest. What did it mean? I don’t know. But it felt sublime. Just for a moment, I felt connected to something much bigger than myself. That’s what poetry really is, and that’s why we need it now more than ever. Human beings are wired to connect to the people and nature around us. We are wired for ‘poet’s mind,’ even if you don’t consider yourself a poet.
Training yourself to notice is, in itself, a poetic practice—and it can happen anywhere, even in the busiest moments. For me, between career and family obligations lies a sweet spot where the act of noticing and writing, reading and noticing, feed back onto each other like an ouroboros.
Embracing the Power of Small Moments for Your Writing Practice
One of the most powerful strategies for making time to write poetry is to embrace the small moments. Instead of seeing poetry as something separate from your day, allow poetry to live within it.
I keep a notebook or I use my phone's notebook app. I jot down lines or words that catch my attention throughout the day. Sometimes I don’t get anything, but when I do, they almost always make their way into a short story or an article. Maybe it’s something you read on a sign, the sound of rain against that plant you got from a friend when you were going through a hard time. These fragments are the seeds of poems. They are potential.
If you have five minutes in the morning before work, or ten minutes before bed, use that time to write a few lines. Don’t worry about crafting a perfect poem; just write. Poetry doesn’t demand hours—it requires practice. It demands devotion. In short, it demands attention.
1 Making Poetry a Habit
Creativity flourishes with consistency. Just as athletes train their muscles and musicians practice scales, poets can develop their craft through routine. You might not have time to write every day, but setting a small, realistic goal can make poetry part of your daily rhythm.
Try committing to writing for ten minutes a day, or to capturing one image or line before you sleep. Create rituals that remind you to slow down: write while your coffee brews, on your commute, or during your lunch break. If mornings are chaotic, evenings might be your window of calm.
Some poets even pair their writing with daily activities—composing lines mentally while walking, running, or cooking. The mind can be a quiet drafting room, even when the body is in motion.
2 Guarding Your Creative Space (small as it may be) as Part of Your Writing Practice
To find time for poetry, it helps to protect your creative space—both physically and mentally. Set boundaries. Maybe that means waking up 15 minutes earlier or putting your phone on silent while you write. Create a space that invites creativity, even if it’s just a corner of a room with a notebook and a favorite pen.
It’s also important to give yourself permission to write badly. Perfectionism is one of the biggest obstacles for poets. If you wait until you feel inspired or confident, you may wait forever. The act of writing—messy, imperfect, and spontaneous—is what keeps the poetic impulse alive.
3 Using Poetry to Reclaim Time
Ironically, writing poetry can make you feel like you have more time. Poetry slows you down. It forces you to see rather than just look, to feel rather than just move through the day. In our productivity-obsessed culture, slowing down is a radical act of rebellion.
When you write poetry, you step out of the current of constant doing and enter a space of being. You reclaim your time not by expanding it, not by dropping other things you care about, but by deepening the time you do have. Even a few words, the start of a stanza, can remind you to pay more attention to the here and now. To be present.
Finding Community and Accountability
Writing can be a solitary act, but poetry thrives in community. Joining a writing group or participating in online poetry challenges can help you stay motivated. When you know others are writing too, it becomes easier to carve out time for your own work.
Many poets also find inspiration in reading. Reading even one poem a day can remind you of the beauty inherent in language and the possibilities for your own writing. Here are a few books I keep by my bedside:
The Path to Kindness, Poems of Connection and Joy (Edited by James Crews)
100 Poems that Matter (Edited by Poets.org)
Lastly, this one was given to me by a writer friend, and although it isn’t technically a poetry book, reading a chapter a day of this has made me feel more open to being creative, to being messy and making mistakes.
In The End
Finding time to write and read poetry is less about juggling your to-do list or cutting out things you enjoy. It is more about cultivating a ‘poet's’ mind and practicing the art of noticing. Regularly, in line for your groceries or at a red light, think one word to yourself. Slow. And then look around. What is really happening? What sounds do you hear? What do you smell? You might be surprised to discover a whole new world just waiting for you to look up from your phone, pull out your headphones, and take notice.
In the end, poetry has never been a luxury for those with trust funds. Poetry is a lifeline for us manic souls running from one activity to another. Poetry reminds us that even in our mad rush, this too will come to an end someday. There is still wonder to experience, still joy. Still the simple pleasure of the way the light falls across a wet road on a misty morning. So go practice noticing. Write that one line even if you don’t have any idea where to go with it next. Go slow, my friend, go slow.
This article was published on January 6, 2026. Written by:
