Poetry's Secret to Mindful Wonder: An Interview with Maya C. Popa
Evelyn Reed ·
Listen to this article~4 min
Discover how poetry can deepen your mindfulness practice. Poet Maya C. Popa shares insights on attention, uncertainty, and staying curious in a distracted world.
What if the key to a more mindful life was hidden in a poem? That's the question at the heart of my conversation with poet Maya C. Popa. We talked about attention, uncertainty, and the art of staying curious in a world that rewards certainty.
Maya's work explores how poetry trains us to notice. Not just the big moments, but the quiet ones. The ones we usually rush past.
### The Power of Paying Attention
"Poetry is an act of attention," Maya told me. "It asks you to slow down and really see something." That's a practice many of us struggle with. We're distracted, busy, always planning the next thing.
But here's the thing: mindfulness isn't about emptying your mind. It's about filling it with what's right in front of you. Poetry does that naturally. A good poem forces you to sit with an image, a feeling, a question. You can't skim it. You have to be present.
Maya suggests starting small. Read one poem a day. Don't analyze it. Just let it wash over you. Notice what sticks.
### Embracing Uncertainty
One of the most refreshing parts of our chat was Maya's take on uncertainty. In a culture obsessed with answers, poetry reminds us that not knowing is okay.
"A poem doesn't give you a solution," she said. "It gives you a way of holding the question." That's a powerful shift for anyone practicing mindfulness. We're so trained to fix, solve, and move on. But sometimes the most mindful thing we can do is stay with the unknown.
Maya's advice? When you feel the urge to rush to a conclusion, pause. Take a breath. Ask yourself: What if I don't need to know right now?
### Cultivating Curiosity
Curiosity is another thread that runs through Maya's work. She believes poetry keeps us curious because it's full of surprises. A poem can turn a familiar word into something strange. It can make you see a tree, a street, a memory in a whole new light.
That kind of curiosity spills over into daily life. You start noticing the texture of your coffee cup. The sound of rain on the window. The way someone's voice changes when they talk about what they love.
Maya's tip: keep a "wonder journal." Jot down one thing each day that made you pause. It could be a line from a book, a weird cloud, a snippet of conversation. Over time, you'll build a record of your own attention.
### A Practice for Busy Minds
If you're thinking, "I don't have time for poetry," Maya gets it. She's a busy person too. But she insists that even five minutes with a poem can shift your whole day.
Here's a simple practice she shared:
- Pick a short poem—something under 20 lines.
- Read it slowly, out loud if you can.
- Notice one word or phrase that catches your attention.
- Sit with it for a minute. What does it bring up?
- Write down a single sentence about your experience.
That's it. No pressure to "get it right." The goal is presence, not perfection.
### The Takeaway
Our conversation left me thinking about how often we chase productivity at the expense of wonder. Poetry, Maya reminded me, is a gentle rebellion against that. It asks us to be human, not efficient.
So the next time you feel scattered, try a poem. Let it slow you down. Let it surprise you. And maybe, just maybe, let it teach you to wonder again.