Poetry As Transitional Object Where I live in Northern Minnesota, the end of summer looms in meandering heat and cool turns. It can be easy to feel discouraged that our short summer–which we wait for throughout the whole of the many, many months of winter–is running out of steam. It’s goodbye to leisurely beach picnic days and hello to back-to-school schedules and new routines.Even for adults who don’t go back to school, simply seeing the fall colors change can be a difficult transition. Sometimes it’s even a time of mourning the loss of our favorite season in the Northland. As the air gets chillier and the days get shorter, I want to offer a kind of help through poetry.What is a transitional object?In therapy and psychology fields, there is a term that we could give to a poem: a transitional object. Often this is most thought of in the form of a teddy bear or blanket that offers comfort for an infant transitioning into toddlerhood. But, adults can have transitional objects, too. Maybe you choose a rock from your time on the North Shore this summer–you set it on your desk or carry it in your pocket. You have a bit of summer slow and warmth with you as the weather cools and changes. There is a familiarity with that object, a happy memory of peace and pause.Could poetry be a transitional object for you?Poetry might be an alternative transitional object for you. Because poetry is an effective container for emotions, and because many of us find transitions and change challenging, a poem could be something to add to our routines during a transitional phase. A poem of celebration and awestruck wonderment of nature, like one by Mary Oliver could bridge the gap in between seasons. A poem of gratitude or empowerment for a dear friend, like one by Pierre Alex Jeanty, could give you the strength you need as you move into a new season. Or maybe you’re in a time of grief from the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, the loss of health through a cancer diagnosis, or the loss of community because you’ve moved: a poem of grief, like one by Sussi Louise Smith, could carry you through the seasons.As a Typewriter Poet, I offer poems as containers for emotion.Sometimes the intensity of a seasonal change (in the impact of temperature or hours of daylight) can feel too heavy. Sometimes the excitement of a new season due to a welcomed new beginning even feels full. Often when I’m out writing poetry in public on my typewriter, I meet people who are full of excitement and delight about a new relationship, a new baby, a new cabin, a new experience and their poem carries this high and joyful emotion. They frame it because of what the words hold. A personalized poem is just that: personal. Whether a poem is written for you or it’s one that resonates with you in this season, it can be your container for joys or sorrow or simply slowing. And a poem is often a small container–nothing too overwhelming, but a page–maybe two, in a book. It takes a couple of minutes of pause to sit in the moment–just a couple of minutes to allow stillness while living in transition. A poem isn’t a big commitment like a novel or self-help book you have to listen to while you’re cleaning or commuting, but a poem can be digested and savored in a short space of time, with regular visits to a resonant phrase or line. You can carry this poem in this season as the poem carries you through this emotional transition, too.Where to find poetry?You can visit your local library or independent bookstore for recommendations, or you can visit my website, mollyovenden.com/poetry for a regularly updating list of poetry collections I’ve enjoyed.I hope you’ve been inspired to consider how poetry can be a gift for you and your loved ones during times of emotional transition. Related Share via: Facebook Twitter LinkedIn More Published by Molly Ovenden Hello! I'm Molly Ovenden! As a Creative Writing Coach, Professional Writer, Teacher, & Visual Artist, I help people just like you BECOME The Writer you've dreamed of being. It's a privilege to be with you on your creative journey. I love circles, coffee, tea, Jesus, running and making creativity a habit. I'm married to my bearded Englishman carpenter, Max (yes, he has a delicious accent and yes, that's part of what won me over to be his wife!) and we live in Northern Minnesota, USA. So glad that you've joined me here. Book a Discovery Call today with Creative Writing Coach: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/609aec905b5e0f762f37b7aa View all posts by Molly Ovenden