The Poet Who Rewired My Attention: A Conversation with Maya C. Popa

Evelyn Reed · 2026-11-07

I still remember the first time a poem stopped me cold. Not because I didn't understand it, but because I realized I'd been reading the world wrong. That's the thing about poetry—it doesn't just sit there on the page. It messes with your head a little. In a good way. So when I got the chance to talk with Maya C. Popa, a poet whose work does exactly that kind of quiet rewiring, I jumped at it. We talked about attention, uncertainty, and why wonder isn't some fluffy add-on to a mindful life—it's the whole engine. ### Why Attention Is the Real Currency Maya said something that stuck with me: "Attention is the beginning of devotion." That's not just a pretty line. It's a practice. In a world that's constantly yanking at your focus—notifications, headlines, the next shiny thing—choosing where to place your attention is a radical act. She doesn't buy the idea that mindfulness is about emptying your mind. Instead, it's about filling it deliberately. Noticing the texture of your coffee cup. The way light falls across the floor at 4 p.m. The pause before someone answers a hard question. These aren't distractions from the "real" work. They are the work. - **Attention is a muscle.** The more you use it on purpose, the stronger it gets. - **Boredom is a signal, not a problem.** It often means you're on the edge of something interesting. - **Slow is not lazy.** Slowing down is how you catch what speed misses. ### Sitting With Uncertainty (Without Freaking Out) Here's where it gets uncomfortable. Maya doesn't offer tidy answers. She's suspicious of them. "The poem doesn't resolve," she told me. "It holds the question open." That's a hard sell for those of us wired to fix, solve, and optimize. But she makes a compelling case: uncertainty isn't a bug in the system—it's the system. The moment you think you've got it all figured out, you stop paying attention. And when you stop paying attention, you stop being curious. And when you stop being curious... well, you get the picture. > "Wonder isn't the opposite of knowing. It's what keeps knowing from turning into arrogance." That line hit me. Because wonder isn't about being naive. It's about staying open even when you think you've seen it all. Especially then. ### The Art of Remaining Curious So how do you actually do this? Maya's answer is refreshingly unglamorous: you practice. You read poems. You take walks without your phone. You let yourself be a beginner at something—anything—on a regular basis. She also swears by what she calls "the sacred pause." Before reacting, before deciding, before even forming an opinion, take three seconds. Just three. In that tiny gap, curiosity has room to breathe. And curiosity, she argues, is the antidote to just about everything that ails us—anxiety, rigidity, even loneliness. Here's what I took away from our conversation: mindful living isn't about achieving some permanent state of calm. It's about staying awake. Poetry is just one doorway into that wakefulness. But it's a good one. Maybe the best one. So next time you're rushing through your day, try this: stop. Look at something ordinary—a leaf, a receipt, your own hand—and ask one curious question about it. That's it. That's the practice. And if you're lucky, it'll mess with your head a little. In a good way.