The poet is a man who lives at last by watching his moods. An old poet comes at last to watch his moods as narrowly as a cat does a mouse.
     - Henry David Thoreau in his journal, from Thoreau And The Art Of Life.

An old poet comes to watch his or her moods carefully, intently. An old poet is wary of moods, but moods can offer insight. An old poet feeds on, draws creative inspiration from, moods.

A primary objective of living a quality life on your own terms is focusing energy where it will have the most impact. Discerning those directions, discerning the correct path for you, on which your efforts, energy and momentum will grow to have a maximum beneficial impact on the world takes careful thought and access to a level below conscious thought. Tuning into your moods can be helpful in that regard.

I remember, fifteen or so years ago, a Heron Dance subscriber writing me that my paintings had taken on a dark, somber tone. And indeed, those were dark days. But I denied it, to him and to myself.

I am almost incapable of logical thought, but I have developed techniques for keeping open the telephone line to my unconscious, in case that disorderly repository has anything to tell me. I hear a great deal of music. I am on friendly terms with John Barleycorn. I take long hot baths. I garden. I go into retreat among the Amish. I watch birds. I go for long walks in the country. And I take frequent vacations so that my brain can lie fallow – no golf, no cocktail parties, no tennis, no bridge, no concentration, only a bicycle.
      - Confessions of an Advertising Man, David Ogilvy

The following is from my 2006 interview of Andy Smyth, founder of Wilderness Way, an organization that offered canoe trips into northern Canada. I’d be curious to know what Andy is doing these days if anyone knows. Wilderness Way seems to have closed.

Andy offers a perspective on a tool that can be used in journaling — to tune into the underlying feelings we get of comfort or discomfort and explore what they might mean.

From the interview:

For the last ten years, clarity has been the focus of my life and I've found that what we need for that is right within us. When I take the time to tune into my body, I get immediate feedback about whether I am on the right track or on the wrong track.

I took a class about co-counseling, which is the way we learn to be counselors for each other. We learn to listen to and assist each other without the perception that there is something wrong that needs to be fixed. It teaches that we all have difficulties, but with a little bit of training and a lot of compassion and empathy, we can help each other. I wrote a two-page essay during this class called, "My Distress is My Ally and My Guide." I wrote about how, when you take a wrong step, you always feel it. A sense of unease overtakes you, or anger, or sadness. These feelings are never comfortable, but if you pay attention to them, they will provide immediate feedback about whether you are on your path.

If you let these feelings direct you — and I mean direct, not impel, because anger can impel you somewhere you don't want to go — if you let these feelings direct you, and you say, "I am feeling unease, therefore I must not be meeting this situation in the most beneficial way," you change your direction.

So read your own emotional body. People look for direction from the outside, but we get this constant direction from right within ourselves. Most of us don't recognize the things we feel upset about, unhappy about, as guidance. We see them as things that are happening to us rather than as direction we are getting from the universe  —  the feedback loop. When you have clarity, your life begins to flow with ease. The ease is the feedback saying, "Ah, yes. This is the path."

Journal Note:

Relax into the flow of your thoughts. Then slow them down. Slow, slow and slower still. What feelings bubble up. Distress? Deep comfort with your path? Into what realm are your thoughts leading you? What colors? What path forward?