Eight years ago today my book WABI SABI was published to almost no fanfare.

I didn’t have a book launch party as I had with my previous (first) book, which had cost me a lot of money and caused enormous amounts of stress. Instead I had a lovely day with my editor going from bookshop to bookshop in London, taking gifts of seasonal Japanese sweets from K. Minamoto in Piccadilly to booksellers across the capital, and talking to them about the book while signing what few copies they had in store.

I was grateful for a recommendation from Sunday Times Style (“A truly transformative read.”) and happy to see it at #1 under categories like Zen and Japan Travel Guides on Amazon UK the day it came out, but the book never reached higher than #382 (on the whole of Amazon) on publication day.

Of course I shared about it, and went on as many podcasts as I could manage, but the truth is WABI SABI was published at a very hectic time in my life. Within ten days of publication we packed up our house in my hometown and moved to Devon, to a community where we knew no-one, and into an Airbnb as we didn’t have a place to live.

Our eldest daughter started primary school that week, and I had to fly to California to teach at 1440 Multiversity. We had two children under five, and I simply didn’t have the capacity for live promotion, in-person events or anything like that. All the while, while thinking I should be doing more, I kept returning to the central message of WABI SABI - about the beauty of imperfection, and how we humans are all perfectly imperfect - as I stumbled through all the things on my plate.

But then something interesting started to happen.

People who had read the book passed it on to their friends. Book clubs started to read it. Yoga teachers started sharing passages from it in classes and on retreats. It started appearing in mainstream magazines as a recommended book. Some of the most famous iconic galleries and museums in the world even started to stock it in their shops. To date such places have included Tate Britain, MoMA, the Ashmolean in Oxford and the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, and knowing that brings me immeasurable joy.

Then a few other things happened.

WABI SABI was published in America and TIME Magazine featured it as one of six books for a better life in the January edition of their iconic printed publication. Apple recommended the audiobook (read by me) as a ‘Must Listen’ audiobook on iTunes. Blinkist added it to their list, where it has since been Book of the Day at least twice. TV presenter Chris Evans included it in a list of books that had changed his life, in a long piece in the Sunday Times. Iris Law chose it as her book pick in British Vogue. And slowly but surely it gathered something like five thousand five star reviews on Amazon (UK and US).

But of all the surprising things that have happened with this book, perhaps the thing that struck me the most was something I noticed when I was back in Japan in June. After many years of only occasionally finding a copy on sale in Japan, this year WABI SABI (sometimes alongside KOKORO) was on prominent display in virtually every bookstore I visited, including all my favourites - Maruzen, Takashimaya, Kinokuniya, Tsutaya and Ogaki Bookstore - finally, eight years after publication. For the nineteen-year old me who used to wander around the shelves of Maruzen in awe of all the Japanese books, that is a really big deal!

And when people send me photos of words and images inspired by WABI SABI actually tattooed on their bodies, which has happened on multiple occasions, I am undone every time.

In all, in the eight years since publication, WABI SABI has, on average, sold more than a thousand copies a week - that’s more than one copy every ten minutes - since it was published in 2018. That’s not far off half a million copies worldwide, making it a ‘classic’ (according to my editor) without it ever having been a blockbuster in any given moment. I find that completely staggering, and also fascinating, given that this is rarely the story we hear about books.

I am sharing all this because when it came out WABI SABI never had that big ‘instant hit’ blast that we are taught to expect is the norm. It’s usually ‘go big or go home’, and in many cases you only get a short window to prove a book’s worth, but that doesn’t work for every author, or every book.

The truth is it has taken a really long time to gather these sales, but it is consistent year in, year out, and I love the fact that WABI SABI’s popularity is largely due to word-of-mouth. Is there anything better for an author than one person pressing your book into another person’s hand and saying, “I think you’d love this…”?

(Of course I am fully aware all this is absolutely not all down to me. To every reader, recommender and bookseller, as well as the team who helped bring it to life and every single person who gave me permission to share their thoughts and experiences in the book - my gratitude is unending. And to Lady Luck, who always plays a part with these things, thank you.)

My point? We are made to think that we should want everything now. ‘Success’ should be immediate, or else we are doing something wrong. If we are chasing a dream, we are led to believe we are falling behind if we haven’t made it come true already. But that’s not always how it works. In fact I’m pretty sure that’s almost never how it works.

Things take the time they take.

And here’s another thing I have learned in this time:

Everything is made of everything else.

Or as my dear friend often says, nothing is wasted. Sometimes when life is chaotic or times are hard it’s easy to sideline the things we are most interested in, especially if they are creative projects without an obvious financial reward. We drop the things that feel like a luxury and focus on the essentials instead. But never forget that ideas keep brewing, whether or not we give them attention (not to mention that creativity is essential to the human spirit).

Often the things we do in the time it takes to bring any kind of project to life are critical to its birthing, even if we feel like we are making no progress by any standard measure.

My sixth book KOKORO (which roughly translates as ‘the intelligent heart’) is hinted at on many pages in WABI SABI. And the term which would become the title of my new book, MA, came up in conversation in many of the interviews I did for WABI SABI back in 2017. By the time MA is published in February 2027, almost a decade of marination time will have passed since then.

Things take the time they take. Which is often longer than we want them to take.

I was talking to Mr K about this and he reminded me that I am also at a different life stage now, compared to when WABI SABI came out. My then-toddlers will soon be teenagers. On one hand I had less capacity back then, but on the other hand the world was less noisy and demanding than it is now.

We write the books we need at a given moment in our lives, and that ‘need’ is a combination of life stage, circumstances, the state of the world, and what is bubbling away in the zeitgeist and what is possible for us at that time.

Timing is everything, and often the ideal timing is not at the moment the idea arrives, but some months or years later, and there is nothing wrong with taking a good amount of time to get something right. Indeed, it might be better for the marination.

💙Where might this be true for you, I wonder? What have you been working on that is taking longer than you expected/hoped? How might it be better for the marination?

💙 To celebrate eight years of WABI SABI being in the world, I thought I’d share some snippets from the book, which all feel equally relevant to me now, but for different reasons than eight years ago. You can find these below. I’d be curious to know which resonates most with you right now.

💙 If you have read WABI SABI I’d love to hear about your experience with it - how you came to read it, and anything you took from it.

💙 And of course I’d love to invite you to consider pre-ordering my new book MA: Japanese wisdom for a spacious life. This is truly a book for our times, and I hope you will love it. CLICK HERE to find out more and get complimentary access to a beautiful virtual weekend retreat, ‘The Space in Between’ if you pre-order today.

Thank you to every single one of you who has read, shared and recommended my books. I will be forever grateful.

Beth Xx

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A few snippets of wisdom for a perfectly imperfect life*

(taken from my book WABI SABI, which is eight years old today)

1 Beauty is in the heart of the beholder.

2 When you realise you are perfectly imperfect already, you have less need for things to boost your self-image.

3 Soulful simplicity is a source of delight.

4 Nature reminds us of the transience of our own lives.

5 Paying attention tot he passing of the seasons is a way to stay present.

6 The rhythms of nature remind us to tune into our own natural rhythms, so we know when to surge forth and when to relax.

7 Change is inevitable, so trying to hold onto the past or present is pointless. Be open. Your life is happening right here, right now.

8 When your head cannot find the answers, remember your heart may know the way.

9 Perfection is a myth. You are perfectly imperfect, just as you are.

10 There is no ‘complete’ or ‘perfect’ with learning. There is just learning.

11 Failure is simply a moment of expansion. Failing your way forward is progress.

12 Reframing failure transforms our experience of it.

13 No one is perfect. Our connections deepen when we honour each other’s imperfections.

14 The four principles of the tea ceremony - harmony, respect, purity and tranquillity - can help us develop good relationships.

15 There is no one perfect career path.

16 Your path may contain several different careers, each supporting your priorities, as you move through the cycle of your life.

17 The way you get to your results matters more than the results that you get.

18 Embracing each life stages allows you to age with grace.

19 You will not be here for ever. Neither will your loved ones. Make the most of each other, and of each day.

20 The only true perfection is found in fleeting moments of beauty. Cherish each one.

And remember, you are perfectly imperfect, just as you are.

If you enjoyed WABI SABI, I think you will love my new book MA: Japanese wisdom for a spacious life. If you pre-order today you can get complimentary access to a beautiful two-day virtual retreat (worth £159), called ‘The Space in Between’.

-> Quick links to pre-order:

Amazon | Blackwells | Waterstones | Bookshop.org | Foyles (Note: We don’t yet have a US/Canada publication so I would recommend Blackwells who are offering free international shipping)

→ Then just pop your receipt details into the short form here to get retreat access (details will be sent ahead of the retreat in February)

I hope you love both. Thank you in advance for your support!

Beth Xx

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Images

        How did I get here? I often wonder
        when in a new place,
        thinking of this temple, or this garden, or this café
        while meaning this life.

I remember the first time I went to Kyōto, aged nineteen, barely able to construct a full sentence in Japanese but enchanted by all I could not understand.

In the three decades since, much has changed on the surface. Technology has made Japan more visible to the outside world, and its selfie-worthy backdrops have rendered it the hottest travel destination on the planet. Robots serve in cafés. There are foreigners everywhere. Flocks of people flit from place to place, striking a pose, posting an update, gathering ‘likes’.

But away from all that, beneath all that, perhaps little that matters has changed. Rivers of story still flow, spirits are quietly honoured, beauty endures.

These days, I could travel anywhere, and yet I keep returning to Japan, drawn to the places where darkness dances with light, transience births poetry, and nature is worthy of prayer. Always in search of something half-hidden, as subtle as a wisp of smoke.

Over time that something, ungraspable as it may be, has revealed itself as ‘ma’.

Distance that bridges.

Stillness that opens.

Silence that connects.

Now I understand that whenever I return to Japan, I am doing so in search of ‘ma’.

Friends, it is with absolute joy that I can finally share what I have quietly been working on for a long while now.

I have written a new book: ‘MA: Japanese wisdom for a spacious life.’

“From the bestselling author of WABI SABI comes MA, a luminous treatise on how to build a spacious life in the modern world.”

In the Japanese language the character for ma is a combination of the gate radical (門) set around the symbol for sun (日). In ancient times, the character was written as a gate with the moon peeping through instead. Such a gorgeous image, and relevant for the meaning of this beautiful word too.

When we quiet the head-mind and listen with the heart-mind, we enter a portal where the light shines in.

Ma is that portal.

As you might guess if you have read any of my other books, any attempt to perfectly define ma will fall short. There are many sentences in this new book that begin ‘Ma is . . .’ but each is just an approximation, a gentle reaching towards an idea.

Common translations include ‘pause’, ‘distance’, ‘interval’, ‘interstice’ and, ‘gap’. All are perfectly valid and each is suitable in certain circumstances, but ma is so much more than those things.

Ma is both the space between things and the sensing of the energy and tension that exists in that space.

Ma is a container for the swirling energy of imminent change.

Ma is a quality of time and a condition of presence.

* * * * * * * * *

This book is a meditation on the essential nature of

s p a c e

in a human life,

within the places that we live

and the flow of time we are alive.

* * * * * * * * *

Pre-order MA today and get complimentary access to a dreamy virtual weekend retreat ‘THE SPACE IN BETWEEN’ (worth £159).

* * * * * * * * *

QUICK LINKS TO PRE-ORDER

Amazon | Blackwells | Waterstones | Bookshop.org | Foyles

*From the US/Canada I recommend you use Blackwells who offer free international shipping, as we do not yet have a US/Canada publication date.

CLAIM YOUR FREE PRE-ORDER GIFT HERE

Pop your receipt details into the short form HERE (scroll to the bottom of the page once you have clicked) to claim complimentary access to THE SPACE IN BETWEEN, a dreamy virtual weekend retreat which will run online as winter gives way to spring (February 27-28, 2027).

* * * * * * * * *

This is what I want for my mind.

To have breathing space between the thoughts, where the light can shine in.

This is what I want for my days.

To feel able to take a minute just to stare at the sky before responding to the next thing that calls for my attention.

This is what I want for our home.

A clear, uncluttered space where energy can flow freely and possibility awaits.

This is what I want for my life.

To have enough spaciousness that I can sense the mystery hovering in the details of every single day.

If you want the same, this book is for you.

Ma is not just empty space

but a space containing palpable energy,

which some might call kami no kehai

                                                       –- traces of the gods –-

where the flow of time can be sensed

        in the air

                 in the silence

                             in the heart.

Technology is compressing the spaces that once naturally occurred in the flow of a day. Under the guise of ease and efficiency, the devices we hold close have changed the way we interact with the world and each other, and not always to our benefit. The infinite scroll which sucks our time. The Whatsapp messages demanding an instant response. The seamless buy-with-one-click-same-day-delivery shopping experience which finds us consuming more than we need. And more recently, the encroaching of AI into every part of our lives, including our most private physical and mental spaces.

This compression removes breathing space, thinking space, and decision-making space.

It ramps up the pace of our lives to a level that our nervous systems were not designed to cope with.

Addictive design has led to us willfully participating, by constantly checking our devices, refreshing our inboxes, scrolling for the latest thing. But what are we actually hoping to find?

Much of what is precious about life - and much of what can make us feel better about it - such as real human connection, quiet beauty, gentle observation of the changing seasons, and a sense of having enough time, capacity, energy - lives in those spaces that technology is so cleverly compressing. It’s no wonder we are seeing a rise in trends such as analogue living and #frictionmaxxing.

By developing our awareness of ma we can expand the sense of spaciousness in our lives, to hold back the flood of information, to deepen our relationships, make better decisions, and enjoy our lives as they unfold rather than feeling rushed day-to-day and anxious about the future. It is a vital defence against the great acceleration of the Information Age.

You might even say this book is a quiet rebellion.

Pre-order MA today and get complimentary access to a beautiful two-day virtual retreat, featuring a special contribution from a Zen monk who serves at one of the oldest temples in Kyoto. This is not to be missed. Details here.

When we stand long enough at the threshold, things become known to us.

We see things as they are.

Ma is that in-between, threshold place.

The song of silence that carries the music.

The pause in the rush of a busy day.

The still place we can always find, in the middle of everything, if we just know how to look.

Ma is a dimension of depth that lies hidden below the surface of everyday life.

This dimension is not empty.

It is a source of light and possibility that exists at the edges of our lives, of our days, of our busyness, waiting patiently for us to see that everything is waiting in the space in between.

QUICK LINKS TO PRE-ORDER

Amazon | Blackwells | Waterstones | Bookshop.org | Foyles

*From the US/Canada I recommend you use Blackwells who offer free international shipping, as we do not yet have a US/Canada publication date.

CLAIM YOUR FREE PRE-ORDER GIFT HERE

Pop your receipt details into the short form HERE (scroll to the bottom of the page once you have clicked) to claim complimentary access to THE SPACE IN BETWEEN, a dreamy virtual weekend retreat which will run online as winter gives way to spring (February 27-28, 2027).

GIVEAWAY

***Update at Sunday 30 August. This giveaway is now closed. Thanks to all who entered. The winner will be announced here shortly.***

Thank you in advance for supporting my work. I am deeply indebted to you for reading, being curious, pre-ordering and being part of this wild journey of authoring books in the modern world.

I’d love to know: Why do you need this book in your life right now?

Please leave a comment or click through to Substack and restack this post on your own Substack with your thoughts in answer to this question.

ONE person who does this by 4pm UK time on Thursday 27 August, 2027 will be picked at random to win a gorgeous box of handpicked goodies from Japan (think stationery, bath salts and more lovely things), chosen by me for you. I will ship them anywhere in the world.

Thank you for helping to spread the word about MA. I hope you love the book and the virtual retreat.

Beth Xx

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Images: (Book mockups were done by a real human using a design by another real human, laid over actual photos of my other books. Beautiful hardback copies of MA, with an embossed 間 character and indigo foil will be available in February 2027).

Giveaway small print: (1) One winner will be chosen at random from among those who have commented on and/or shared this post by the deadline of 4pm UK time on Thursday 27 August, 2027. (2) The winner will be announced on an updated version of this post after the deadline and no correspondence will be entered into. (3) The prize is a box of lovely things brought back from Japan by me, Beth Kempton. (4) No cash alternative is available and the prize is not transferable. (5) No purchase is necessary to enter.

* * * * * * * * *

          gazing at the moon
          face reflected in the glass
          a blank page awaits
                                                                         - by me 

The inside front cover has my name in my mum’s handwriting in pencil, carefully traced in ink over the top by a little me. Next to that is a scrawl from an earlier time, where I had misspelt my own name as ‘Beeth’ in inch-high looping shapes, clearly keen to state that Invitation to a Mouse belonged to me. The poet, Eleanor Farjeon, who was born in 1881 and apparently typed poems on her father’s typewriter before she reached the age of seven, explained her creations as being ‘born of a tune in the poet’s ear’1.

Invitation to a Mouse was my first ever poetry book, and my mum used to pay my older brother and I a few pennies to memorise the poems for pocket money. Four decades later I still remember the opening lines, There’s pudding in the pantry, / There’s jam upon the shelf, / There’s bacon in a pastry-pie / On a dish of delf -. As an aside, it was many years before I discovered ‘delf’ was not a foodstuff sitting beneath the pie, but actually a word originating in the Dutch town of Delft but used widely in Ireland and Scotland to mean earthenware and crockery2.

Anyway, I loved the rhythm and rhyme of Farjeon’s poems, and tried writing a few myself. But then somewhere along the way I picked up on the idea that poetry was something that other people read, and poems were things that other people wrote. I abandoned English language and literature at the age of sixteen in favour of Maths, Physics and Economics, and then turned away from them at university to study Japanese. It was actually through haiku that I would find my way back to poetry a few years later. My collection of poetry books grew quietly and steadily until it filled a whole shelf, and then a bookcase.

Each morning, when I lit a candle at 5am to write, I would pull down a book, open it at random, read a poem aloud and then write whatever came to me. Often those words were nothing to do with the poem at all, but somehow reading it had opened a door.

By the time I had two books out in the world, I felt brave enough to sneak some poems into my third non-fiction manuscript, Calm Christmas and a Happy New Year, to see if anyone noticed. Not only did my editors not question the poems being there, but they commented on how lovely they were. A few years after that book came out, I wrote a poem inspired by it, The Keepers of Christmas, which to my astonishment went viral on Instagram with more than a million views.

I have tucked tiny poems into my books ever since, as a kind of rebellion against whoever it was who made me think that poems weren’t for me.

          Sky drifts to nothing
          Twitching on the lowest branch
          Sparrow knows it’s time
                                                                         - by me 

These days I introduce my SoulCircle private writing community to two new poets every single week. In order to do this I have built up a huge collection of poetry, which I have studied at length, not in any kind of technical, analytical way, but to explore how they make me feel, and how they encourage me to see the world slightly differently.

In fact, my poetry collection has grown so much that when we started planning our house renovation, an idea started to form: What if we made a poetry library?

The front door used to open into a closed-off porch, and into a dark hallway, with a manky old downstairs toilet across from the entrance. Beyond that was an awkward square of terrace, not accessible from any room, with weeds growing up through the broken paving slabs. We decided to square that off, and turn the bathroom into a pale pink poetry library. We also knocked down the wall in the hallway, so now when we come home, the first thing that greets you from across the hallway is an enticing expanded corridor of poetry books, and then an airy room beyond with a window seat perfect for reading.

It is on that window seat that I sit reading ’s extraordinary collection If You Love That Lady, which was published last month. Here’s a favourite from it, called Dark Matter (p.61):

No one knows what it is, 
no one you’d count on 
knowing has a clue, which is true 
mystery, not obfuscation, 
a question contending 
with the topsoil of time.

Desire’s what’s the matter 
with our lives, a sea parting 
to reveal another sea. 
Its command renews, 
swells and beckons: 
you’d be a fool not to love 
until the last second.

                                - by Maya C. Popa

WHAT KIND OF POET ARE YOU?

Without diminishing the talent and efforts of people who make their living as professional poets, or suggesting that there isn’t value in studying the grammar of poems (of course there is, if you are interested in that), I believe that everyone has the capacity for poetry.

In school many of us are taught that poems have to be written a certain way in order to be ‘good’, but personally I think a good poem is mostly a poem that makes you feel something, or think differently about the world.

It’s interesting to begin by asking yourself ‘What kind of a poet are you?’ even if you aren’t yet the kind of poet that writes their poems down. How do you see the world? What do you consider to be beautiful? Heartbreaking? Devastating? Worth pinning to the page?

How about considering one of these definitions of poetry, instead of thinking about it as something to do ‘right’?

What is poetry to you, I wonder?

HAVE A GO

The best way to write good poems is to write lots of poems, and to read lots of poems, ideally aloud. There are also a number of excellent books written specifically to help you write poetry - I have shared some of my favourites below.

Getting involved in community poetry challenges is a great way to practise without too much risk. For example, four times a year I do a fun, free poetry seasonal poetry challenge on Instagram, Facebook and Substack Notes, offering a one word prompt with only two rules: Ten minutes max, and no (or little) editing. To be honest this challenge was born out of me finding poetry intimidating, and I found that these restrictions helped me loosen up and just go with whatever arrived. #tinysummerpoem is in full swing right now (see my Notes feed here or Instagram here), and we have had some real delights shared in the community. By my very unscientific estimates tens of thousands of poems have been penned in response to this challenge since we started it back in 2021. Some full collections have even emerged from them, including beautiful handmade books by and .

I also recommend a wide variety of poets and poems in my Summer Writing Sanctuary (which starts next week and is free to everyone - you can register here), and recommend two poems/poets every week in my private writing community SoulCircle to expand our sphere of inspiration and give us a window into all kinds of lives and ways of thinking and being in the world.

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Which is all to say that I believe poetry is for everyone, and that any of us can walk through that doorway to discover a world of beauty and inspiration on the other side, whether by reading or writing poems.

I thought I would recommend a few books about how to encounter poetry, along with a round up of some of my favourite poets on Substack, and the publishers who publish some of my favourite poets and their works. You might like to save/bookmark this as a resource for anytime you are feeling stuck in your own writing, or a little uninspired in your life, or forward it to anyone who might like a little poetic inspiration.

Poetry has the power to bring light to the darkness, or cosy up next to us in the dark and remind us we are not alone.

BOOKS ABOUT POETRY

Some books I recommend for developing skills of encountering, writing and appreciating poetry:

The Dharma of Poetry by (Wisdom)

“This is a book about poetry as a source of wisdom. It argues… that poems embody and implicitly endorse ways of being in the world that anyone engaged in spiritual practice, or anyone wanting to live a more mindful life, might want to emulate.” (p.vii)

Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry by (Harper Perennial)

“What a good poem hears, sees, and speaks is what can only become perceptible when inner and outer intertwine. The poet’s circuitous collaboration with words is a tool for discovering how best to let those two worlds come forward and realize themselves; it is part of the ancient, ongoing game of hide and seek the universe plays. Within its silence, exile, and cunning, poetry holds both the hiding and the seeking, for both are the point.” (p.126)

Ten Windows: How Great Poems Transform the World by (Knopf)

“A mysterious quickening inhabits the depths of any good poem - protean, elusive, alive in its own right. The word “creative” shares its etymology with the word “creature,” and carries a similar sense of breathing aliveness, of an active, fine-grained, and multi-cellular making. What is creative is rooted in growth and rising, in the bringing into existence of new and autonomous being. We feel something stir, shiver, swim its way into the world when a good poem opens its eyes. Poetry’s work is not simply the recording of inner or outer perception; it makes by words and music new possibilities of perceiving. Distinctive realms appear to us when we look and hear by poem-light.” (p.3)

About Poems and How Poems are Not About by Anne Stevenson (Bloodaxe)

“You say them as your undertonge declares / Then let them knock about your upper mind / Until the shape of what they mean appears.” (p.9)

How Poetry can Change Your Heart by and (Chronicle)

“Poetry makes the universe reachable by telling a story. We can travel continents in a single stanza. Feel lifetimes in a lone page. Poetry is the passport that proves we are, all of us, citizens of the world, and through poetry we can even heal that world.” (p.8)

A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver (Mariner)

“To make a poem, we must make sounds. Not random sounds, but chosen sounds.” (p.19)

Poetry in the Making by Ted Hughes (Faber)

“Poetry is not made out of thoughts or casual fancies. It is made out of experiences which change our bodies, and spirits, whether momentarily or for good.” (p.32)

Quantum Poetics by Gwyneth Lewis (Bloodaxe)

“Every poem is a possible world.” (p.53)

Poems in Progress by Alexandra Ault & Laura Walker (British Library)

“There is something quite special, almost magical, about manuscript poems. Messy, complicated and sometimes illegible, these handwritten or typescript drafts hold a unique connection to their creator. These are the very pages which embody the spark of an idea, the flourish of a pen and the creation of a verse.” (p.7)

Writing and Enjoying Haiku by Jane Reichhold (Kodansha)

“Toss out the memory of the teacher who told you never to mark in your books and tell your inner critic, who might be insisting you know nothing about haiku, just to back off and be quiet. Think only that you have decided to enjoy seeing where these haiku lead you, and to explore what they find within you.” (p.8)

The Haiku Handbook by William J Higginson and Penny Harter (Kodansha)

“Haiku happen all the time, wherever there are people who are “in touch” with the world of their senses, and with their own feeling response to it.” (p.4)

A Vertical Art by Simon Armitage (Faber)

“Poetry is shaded language. On many examples of terrain cartography, hills and mountains are shown with shade to their south-eastern slopes, as if light were emanating from the top left-hand corner of the map - perhaps taking its bearings from printed matter, given that in reading, north west to south east is the direction of travel. Forgetting for now that light rarely originates from that direction in the Northern Hemisphere, the shading exists as a visual subtext indicative of perspective. Similarly, in a poem, the shadows of chosen words fall in a particular direction, suggesting an angle or view.” (p.310)

The Way of the Fearless Writer by Beth Kempton (Piatkus)

Although not strictly about poetry, this book (by me) helps writers get past the fear that stops many of us writing, and access the gold within.

“When you wake in the night and the world is still, pay attention. When the wind shows its presence by rustling leaves, pay attention. When you take a slow deep breath and feel the beating of your own heart, pay attention. These quiet moments are secret ways in.” (p.31)

And if you are interested in having your poems published, you might find some useful advice in Poet’s Market (Writer’s Digest Books).

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PUBLISHERS OF POETRY

I have a secret dream of curating my own anthology of poems some day, but until then, I spend a lot of time with other people’s creations! Here are some of my favourite publishers of poetry anthologies (featuring multiple poets in a single book):

Bloodaxe | White Pine Press | Copper Canyon Press | Penguin Classics | Wisdom | Batsford | Pan Macmillan | The Forward Arts Foundation | Shambala

Some of my favourite publishers of poetry collections (featuring a single poet per book):

Cape Poetry | Carcanet | Canongate | Trapeze | Andrews McMeel | Bloodaxe (also does great anthologies) | Black & White | Picador Poetry | Corsair | W&N | Nine Arches Press | Ignition Press | Zondervan.

You can find many of these publishers’ books stocked at the wonderful walk-in Poetry Pharmacy (in London and York)

WHERE TO FIND POETRY ONLINE

There are incredible archives of poetry online, including:

• The Academy of American Poets

• Granta

• Poetry London

There is also good advice and support for young poets available via The Poetry Society. You can also find out more about haiku in my essay The Life-Changing Magic of Writing Haiku and you might enjoy The American Poetry Review Podcast.

POETS HERE ON SUBSTACK

Some of the many wonderful poets here on Substack include:

| | | | | | | | the late | | | | | |

Please feel free to recommend any others (or yourself!) in the comments.

Handy tip: Did you know Substack has special functionality for maintaining the shape and layout of poems upon publication? Just go to More > Poetry in the navigation bar when editing your piece, and pop your poem in the block it opens up. You’re welcome.

There is a beautiful 400-year-old haiku by Matsuo Bashō that captures how I want my writing life to be. It speaks of a cicada shell, and the cicada that sang itself utterly away. I want to write myself utterly away, not just once like the cicada but over and over. When we dissolve our edges and limitations, we are free to wander wherever we please, exploring all words can do, and all we can be. We can travel in any direction, inward or outward, into the past or future, or deeply into the present, and we can bring back what we find there, often surprising ourselves with its beauty, vitality and resonance. This is how poems are born.

I hope you will remember this, and stay open, surrendering to the creations that want to emerge through you.

Tell me, what do you love about poetry? And whose poetry do you love? Feel free to share one of your own in the comments today. I’d love to read it.

Beth Xx

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PS If you found this helpful please share it so others can find new ways into poetry, and their own writing practice, too! Thank you in advance.

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As a child, I almost never went to coffee shops, except for the most special occasions when we would go for afternoon tea at Tyrrell & Green on Southampton High Street, which had been plying its trade since 1897. By ‘afternoon tea’ I don’t mean a three-tiered cake stand laden with tiny cucumber sandwiches and posh cakes. That was far too expensive. I mean a cup of tea in a china cup in the afternoon, at a table covered in white linen.

I am pretty sure my mum was imagining she was living a different life as she sat there, little finger bent at the tip, sipping her tea and eavesdropping on other shoppers’ conversations. As for us kiddos, we loved it because the waiter would always bring out a silver cloche, and dramatically lift the lid to offer us a selection of flavours of Club biscuit. Mint or orange for me. It was always a tough choice. Back then I thought this was the height of sophistication, although now you can get seven Club biscuits for less than a pound at the supermarket.

When I was about ten, my grandma moved down from up north and came to live next to us. She wouldn’t go anywhere without a promise of tea and cake, so cafés become a greater part of my life.

At uni I had very little money, so I rarely went to such places, but by the time I moved to Tokyo in 2000, coffee culture was booming, and as a singleton living alone I spent most of my weekends at cafés. They offered companionship, even if I was on my own. I loved the soft buzz of chatter, the warmth in winter and aircon in summer, and the sense of possibility I felt anytime I opened a notebook to dream about what I might do next.

(Later I would learn that one of the best ways to discover thriving local communities in rural Japan would be to seek out barista coffee, which was often being served up in a renovated old house, or seaweed factory or other building having a second life as a café. Many pages of my books have been written in such places.)

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By the time I had my own children and was living back in the UK, coffee culture had exploded here too. When our oldest was a baby we lived in Brighton (which was just named Coffee Capital of the UK, with more than 57 independent cafes per 100,000 residents). She spent almost every day of her early years in one café or another. Cafés were where we met other work-from-homers, where we socialised with other new parents, where we felt a sense of normality in the chaos of those early years, and the caffeine boost was always welcome after all the broken sleep.

One day, a few months before our second child was born, I distinctly remember being in a cafe in Kemptown looking through our finances when I realised that much as we loved Brighton life, we were haemorraging money at an unsustainable rate. We decided to leave and buy a small house in my hometown of Southampton close to my family, where our mortgage would be half the rent we had been paying. Everything about the move made sense, except for Southampton’s distinct lack of cafés.

Fortunately for us our move coincided with one guy, Spencer Bowman, embarking on a mission to ‘bring better coffee to Southampton’. We found a new working home in his cosy place called Mettricks Old Town, and were delighted when he opened further Mettricks cafés near the old Bargate, and then a flagship space at Mettricks Guildhall, in a large industrial building just a stone’s throw from Tyrrell & Green, where I used to get my Club biscuits on a silver platter.

Mettricks Guildhall became our defacto office. We used to go so often that my older brother had one of the wooden chairs engraved with my name on as a fun gift one birthday.

I interviewed Spencer for my first book, Freedom Seeker, and wrote much of the book in the quieter space upstairs. We held the book launch there - my first and only book launch party. It was a public event, and the entire place was packed to the rafters with friends, family and curious strangers, and although I don’t love parties which celebrate me, it was a brilliant evening.

It was in that same café that I had a lovely 40th birthday lunch with my family, and then at that very same table some months later that we found out our eldest daughter hadn’t got into any of the primary schools we had applied for, which was the catalyst for our subsequent move to Devon.

When we left, Spencer gifted our girls Mettricks’ iconic mustard yellow cup and saucer each, filled with marshmallows, so they would remember all the hot chocolates they had enjoyed there.

Latterly, when my mum was in the hospice planning her own funeral (words which still don’t make sense to me), she decided she just wanted everyone to get together for coffee and cake, as she loved to do. The obvious choice was Mettricks Guildhall and Spencer agreed without hesitation. The team made an impossible day as much of a joy as it could be.

I am sharing all this because it all came flooding back when I heard, just this week, that after ten years in business, Mettricks Guildhall will close down tomorrow. It is only in reflecting on this that I realised just how significant a role cafés have played in our lives as a family, and in my life as a writer. I wanted to take a moment of gratitude for Mettricks Guildhall in particular, but also cafés in general, for all they offer us, even under extremely difficult economic circumstances.

In his announcement on social media, Spencer wrote,

“The truth is Guildhall is no longer commercially viable for us. Following Covid our landlord increased our rent by around 50%, despite our warning that it was unsustainable. We have tried everything we could to make it work, while still carrying Bounce Back Loan debt from Covid. And the last two Budgets have added huge pressure through employer NI, business rates and National Living Wage increases. I have spent much of the past two years campaigning about this, including backing #VATsTheProblem. People ask what difference reducing VAT would make. From now on Guildhall is my answer. This isn’t a failing café. It is busy and people still want it. But the economics no longer work. I am devastated we cannot keep this special place open.”

So much love poured out for the café in the comments, with people sharing their experiences of first dates and engagements there, and how it had been a second home for them over the years. The loss of any independent café is a loss for a community on so many levels, not just for what the café offers, but the role it plays in supporting a wider network of cultural organisations and events.

I wanted to take this opportunity to send love to all the independent coffee shop owners and staff who put so much thought and care into creating spaces where we can connect with others (or simply be around others and feel less isolated), feel inspired, experience community, have a quiet read and even get warm in winter. And of course, to offer places for us to write our books, and launch them into the world. I know for a fact that my books wouldn’t have been written, at the same pace or in the same way, were it not for the coffee shops where I have spent many happy hours writing.

Many of these café owners are having a hard time making their businesses work right now. If you have a favourite local place, why not make a plan to visit it soon, recommend it to others, or perhaps simply forward this to the owner and let them know how much you appreciate the space they provide. Feel free to shout out to your favourite café in the comments, perhaps sharing what you love about it. Or share what role cafés have played in your own creative life.

A deep bow of gratitude to Spencer and the entire Mettricks team, and to every coffee shop owner and staff member who works so hard to make these vital spaces for us to dream, connect, relax and write.

Beth Xx

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Hi friends,

Hope you are doing well and enjoying some writing in the sunshine.

This is just a quick note about some juicy discounts on upcoming classes, in response to a number of questions and requests I have had recently. Please note these discounts are exclusively for SoulCircle members. Please do not share the discount codes with others!

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Friend, how have you been? Lately, I have mostly been astonished, and also sometimes agitated for reasons I cannot quite explain. Perhaps it’s the heat, or the rapidly unfurling summer, or the fact that my baby just finished primary school and I have a lot of feelings about that.

Let’s begin with astonishment though, because that is a precious thing.

Take today, for example. Just yesterday two deer chased each other through the morning mist and right past the kitchen window in a scene which felt like Christmas in motion. Today I opened the kitchen door and from the field beyond the garden heard the deep grunting of a buck. It sounded like a mating call, but given that tonight’s full moon is named the Buck Moon after this season for new antlers emerging on male deer, I am guessing that it might be the deer equivalent of teething.

Let’s not skate over the full moon… The past few nights, the moon over the sea has been spectacular, and there are few clouds as I write this, so I am hoping for a bright sky tonight.

In other news we put out a whole box of apples from our tree with a sweet label encouraging people to enjoy them for free, and to our delight they all vanished within a couple of hours. One delivery man came and knocked on the door to tell us how he couldn’t wait to get home and make apple pie for his family. The children are excited to refill the box, as well as pick a few extra to make their own crumble tomorrow. Ahhh, Summer…

And then there is the exchange with local friends – besides the apples, the baling of our field in return for hay for horses, fresh tomatoes offered as gardening advice was received (apparently you can dip fennel flowers in egg whites and sugar and use them as delicate cake decorations – who knew?) and so on. I love all this about living in the countryside, and it makes me think about how, while there is so much modernisation and the climate is shifting in so many ways, there are also things that keep on rolling round, season after season.

And then there’s the buzzard who often circles our place, and yesterday glided low and slow so close I could see its feathers. Apparently there are some 1600 pairs here in Devon. I remember once hearing that the buzzard, as a spirit animal, reminds us to have patience, and wait for the right moment, as well as to zoom out and consider life from a broader perspective. This feels very pertinent to my life right now. How about you, I wonder?

Earlier this week we discovered our first ever batch of French beans on our single French bean plant, and a pheasant left a beautiful foot-long feather outside my writing hut, as if reminding me to pick up my quill and crack on. Joy, in every direction in the garden.

In the kitchen too… Not long ago our youngest daughter turned eleven, and my dad turned up with a baking book and a huge red mixing bowl which I had never seen. The birthday girl’s face lit up with recognition and joy. “It’s the bowl we used to use when we made cakes with Grandma,” she said. Watching her mix the batter for the chocolate orange birthday cake she wanted to bake, my heart folded over and over itself.

Besides this and a trip to watch her favourite football team, of all her gifts, perhaps the one she was most delighted by was the seed head popped into a tiny box. “I caught a wish for you,” I said, as she peered in, uncertain whether there was actually anything in the container.

Our focus on the house renovation this past year has meant the garden is full of seed heads. They are caught in every spider’s web, and often float into the kitchen. I don’t actually know what flower they are from (it isn’t a dandelion). I just know my grandma and my mum used to tell me that if I caught one, and made a wish as I released it, the wish would come true. Anyway, after the birthday gift it became a kind of game, and this week we have been gifting each other wishes most days. My wish is that the flowers keep releasing their seeds forever without end, so we can keep playing this game forever without end, but of course now I have told you the wish, it won’t come true (or maybe it’s because that’s just the way the world works). Perhaps next summer, when the garden blooms with a particular kind of wildflower, we will know at last where the wishes come from.

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The last day of school was all kinds of things all tangled up together. A ritual very particular to their school followed by a Year Six barbecue and much reminiscing about how they have changed since Reception, how they are excited and nervous, how they will miss primary but also how ready they are, and how we humans can be many such things at once.

To borrow a phrase from Japanese philosopher Kitarо̄ Nishida, there exists a ‘continuity of discontinuity’ with the juxtaposition of my particular child and her friends transitioning from one school phase to another, never to return to that ‘littles’ phase, and the act of any child graduating from primary school to move onto secondary school, an important life stage which happens over and over again human life just as its equivalent does in in nature. Without saying so directly, it reminds us that change is the only constant.

At ‘work’ there has been joy too. Actually, more than joy, relief. I heard back from my editor of many years saying that she absolutely loves my latest book manuscript and basically has no changes whatsoever. Friend, that has NEVER happened before. I went home and told my children that the teacher gave me all ticks and they suggested we eat cake for breakfast, so of course we did. (I absolutely cannot wait to share more about this new book with you. Writing it has been the best adventure, and it feels more essential with each passing day. It’s under wraps until August so I can prepare the best pre-order gift but I hope that it’s worth the wait. It will be out in February 2027!)

So there are many things to be grateful for, and many things that are bittersweet as tends to be the case at this time of year. And then, of course there’s the hard stuff, all stirred in.

The thought of all the people affected by yesterday’s Kumamoto earthquake.

The farmers struggling with the heatwave, and the climate story beneath it.

All the other news.

That mixing-bowl-shaped reminder of my mother’s absence.

The mountain of work I have tapping on my mind after such a long while dedicated to book writing, and the constant juggle of prioritisation.

And that end-of-primary-school everything.

I know you have many things too. How do we carry it all, and keep plenty of space for the astonishment and joy? All thoughts welcome.

As I write, the tulip tree outside the window of my writing hut has just sighed, releasing a few golden leaves, as if it has been pondering such things for some time.

I think tonight I will stay up writing until the full moon rises, then take a picnic blanket, and Mr K and the children along with some snacks, and lie beneath the night sky imagining where the buzzard sleeps. The rest can wait until tomorrow.

How about you? How do you plan to make the most of the rest of summer, even while carrying all that you do? Perhaps you could share one thing that has astonished you recently. I’d love to read about it.

Beth Xx

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PS I wrote a new book!

PPS If you like birds of prey you might love Xavier Rudd’s song I Am Eagle. It’s a stunning piece of campaigning.

PPPS Free astronomy apps I have been enjoying lately include Star Walk 2, Sky Tonight and SkyView Lite. No affiliation.

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Photos by . Hut by Blackdown.