End-of-Year Playlist

I have a thing for end-of-year music.

For me December, and particularly the handful of days between Christmas and New Years, have a soundtrack of their own.

This usually means an end-of-year playlist that I put on perma-repeat for the last few days of December. I tweak it and re-arrange it, balancing for just the right mixture of moods from the past year and the year to come.

I think this year's is particularly finger-snappy and divine.

I love Freewill Astrology

I've been reading Rob Breszny's Freewill Astrology for over 20 years. I used to read it weekly in NOW Magazine when I was going to university in Toronto. I often felt like Mr. Breszny might be following me around (in the kindest, most concerned and least creepy way imaginable). He seemed to know when I was heartbroken and when my heart was soaring.

On more than one occasion, I clipped out one of his horoscopes and pinned it up as a reminder. I still remember one I cut out many years ago, one that said, Burn the book of love you've been using, it's not smart enough for you.

For the past eight months, I've been typesetting a few pages of The Grapevine, including the horoscope page, syndicated from – you guessed it – Rob Breszny. This means that every two weeks, I get to see my horoscope early, which is a serious perk.

When I saw my horoscope for the week of December 25, I melted. Now that it's up on the Freewill Astrology web site, I feel that it's okay to talk about it.

It says that I will attract love and luck by being good next year –  "by expressing generosity, deepening [my] compassion, cultivating integrity, and working for justice and truth and beauty". Since this is exactly what I would like to do next year (and always), I feel very affirmed in my expectation that those actions will be rewarded in 2015.

Now, I'm not a huge horoscope believer. (I admit, I do see some similarities between people with particular sun signs and I don't think it's entirely a conincidence that the vast majority of my friends are Piscean and Aquarian, but really, it doesn't dictate my life or anything). What I do believe in is a weekly injection of optimism with a gentle (and often poetic or thought-provoking) spurring on to higher understanding and working for justice and truth and beauty.

To my mind, that is what Rob Breszny provides.

And I love it.

2014 Year in Review: In Better Perspective

It is very easy to lose one's sense of perspective

After I wrote yesterday's post, about planning for 2015, I realized just how down on 2014 I was feeling. I assigned it the word heartbreak, talked about mistakes, consequences, struggles.

My feelings about 2014 have been feelings of defeat, disappointment, depression, de-regulation, depletion, and just about every other "de" and "dis" word you can think of.

This is not the way I want it.

Yes, the year contained a lot of stress, sadness and disappointment. Yes, a lot of things didn't go the way I wanted them to. And yes, I wound up feeling pretty awful about myself, about my choices, about EVERYTHING!

And therein lies the problem. 

Because that is not the truth.

When I look back over the past year, I can see just as many things that went right as went wrong. Blessings were heaped on me and I accomplished, contributed to and enjoyed a great deal. 

So here's a timeline of awesome for 2014:

January

• Dear friends offered me a place to put my tiny home and have my wired office

February

• Many friends helped me try to prepare to move my tiny home (albeit unsuccessfully, but that was the weather's fault; sometimes things are simply outside of our control)
• Against all odds, the lovely fellow who created my tiny home succeeded in moving it to its new location

February onwards

• A close family member made an excellent recovery from a serious health crisis
• I took a bold step by enroling in an online course called Transform Your Relationship with Food; I began to finally make some breakthroughs in an area of my life where I have been stuck for many years

March

• I moved into my tiny home; my adorable and very beloved cat, Salinger, came to live with me

February and March

• I had lots of work, which was both enjoyable and helped me to financially recover from the work drought I experienced in the summer/fall of 2013

March–April

• A number of friends, on a number of occasions, helped me move my things from my rented house to my tiny house

April–October

• I helped a friend run the West Dublin Market for another summer; we continued to create something fun and beautiful in our community

April & September 

• I emerged from my performance sabbatical, briefly, twice, to play lovely shows with Shawna Caspi, one at Rose & Kettle Concert Sessions and one at the West Dublin Hall

May–August

• I helped friends run a concert series that culminated in the Pennybrook Festival in August; the festival was a hoot and all of the music that we brought to the community throughout the summer was excellent

July

• I met my Dad for a trip to New York City, he treated me to a couple of days of relaxing hotel living, two Broadway shows, gourmet shopping and some great meals; we had a good visit after not having seen each other for a couple of years
• I volunteered as a stage manager at the Harmony Bazaar Festival of Women and Song; I had never stage-managed before — it was a bit nutty, but fun

August

• I had much more work than I expected; I feel very grateful for ongoing opportunities both to earn money and grow my client base

September

• I think the weather was nice and I got to go to the beach frequently (September was kind of a write-off; I was pretty depressed and I don't remember much)
• I decided that I didn't have it in me to over-winter in my tiny home; a friend hooked me up with a sweet winter rental

October

• I realized I was depressed, told folks and received touching support from many people (both expected and wholly unexpected)
• I took steps to devise and implement a plan of self-care; I began to experience some improvements to my mood and health
• The generosity of a family member enabled me to meet my goal to decrease my indebtedness by 12.5%!

November

• I went to Happy Valley-Goose Bay as one of the visiting artists for the Labrador Creative Arts Festival; an intense, interesting and fun experience

December

• Almost over (I really don't like December; but it's ALMOST OVER—hooray!)

As we say in my family, "It's all in the way you hold your mouth." 

I would rather smile than scowl.

I'm glad I caught myself, became aware of my negativity and took another look at 2014. I find it very comforting that I can see so much good in a year that I found so difficult. I learned a LOT and hopefully those lessons will help me move onward and upward .

I offer up my thanks for the blessings of this past year.

And I look forward to 2015.

Here's a song for moving on with, A Plea from a Cat Named Virtue by The Weakerthans (Listen, all those bitter songs you sing, they're not helping anything. They won't make you strong...):

Design Your Year: 2015

I find December difficult. I call it Holiday Seasonal Affective Disorder (or H-SAD): a dislike of the short days, the mandatory gaiety (or at the very least the struggle not to harsh others' buzz) and the rampant consumerism. Most years, I find myself wishing I could go to bed on December 1st and wake up on the 31st, just in time to bid the old year, and especially December, a hearty farewell.

This year, December has been particularly difficult. The past year has been a doozy – lots of heartbreak, some serious illness in my family, the realization that I've made some big mistakes over the past couple of years and am now facing the consequences of those decisions, an ensuing depression, and my struggles to answer a call from within to take better care of myself, including doing some challenging work to transform my relationship with food and eating. 

Yes, 2014, you were a big, bad year. One for the books. 

There can be something sweet about closing the door on a difficult year

Well, bittersweet, at least. Which is to say, that I've been mostly feeling bitter. I definitely have a tendency toward the year-end review, and I have been looking back over this past year with a bad attitude, my disappointments and pain looming much larger than my accomplishments and blessings. The sweet part though, is that time marches on and the present becomes the past. Wounds begin to heal and hope begins to return.

I am a fan of new years in general – I like the feeling of a fresh start, the feeling of possibilities and potential. The chance to re-think and change things, to make better decisions for myself, to evolve and grow. 

I know it's just an artificial line in our invented sense of time. Every day is the beginning of another 365, but personally, I'm always happy to draw a line shortly after Christmas and start again.

A little help...!?

I felt like I needed a some extra mojo to shape a plan for some new and different experiences in 2015. When I read that Jamie Ridler was offering a planning workshop called "Design Your Year", I was  very interested. Jamie is a creativity coach in Toronto and I've done work with her in the past, including a dream board workshop, a glorious creativity-sparking dance party and participating in the Kickin' It Old Skool Blogathon (which did wonders for my H-SAD last year). 

I'm not a formal planner, usually preferring to fly by the seat of my pants, but I felt in my gut that I wanted to take Jamie's class. Unfortunately, though, it was offered at a time that didn't work for my schedule. I had another commitment; I thought I had to let Jamie's class go. But then, I discovered that Jamie was making a playback of the class available until January 31, 2015 and I could do it any time before then. As soon as I heard that, I signed up.

I did the class this past weekend...

What Design Your Year looked like for me.

It was excellent!

I feel like it brought me a ton of clarity about what I want and what I need for 2015. And it was fun: with sticky notes, journaling exercises, visual exercises and lots of guidance from Jamie about the many possibilities: different ideas about how to structure, grow and release the ways I think about planning.

I often have a "get 'er done" attitude toward the year – for example: "this year I'm going to record and release a CD", or "this year I'm going to play as many gigs as I possibly can and find out if I have a chance at becoming famous." Yes, I don't usually shy away from big goals and I would even say that in the past I have had a tendency toward grandiosity. 

The coming year is going to be very different.

My hopes for 2015

I have a number of gentler, more personal and internal goals for 2015. I still want to make and share creative work, so I'm excited about my 2015 52-Song Project (more about that over on my music blog). And I plan to revive my old practice of running "Creative Marathons" near the solstices and equinoxes next year.

My main focus, though, is going to be on self-care and self-respect. I want (and need) to improve my ability to make decisions that are gentle, kind and decent to myself. I want to deepen my yoga practice, do more work around food, eating and body image and make peace with the past couple of years, through forgiveness, understanding and humility. 

I want 2015 to be a gentle year, a simple year, a fun and delightful year. I want it to be a peaceful year, a relaxed year, an easy year, a straightforward year. 

Most of all, I want this year to be for me. I have an overall tendency to give away a lot of my time and energy. Usually, I have lots to spare, so it's not a problem. Sadly though, I have shared too many buckets from my well and received too little rain over the past couple of years. I feel depleted. The coming year needs to be about conservation and renewal.

My word for the year

Until I started writing this blog post, I had forgotten about the word I set as my intention for 2014. It was "right-size" as declared in a blog post a little less than 12 months ago. I did make some steps toward right-sizing with my tiny home and de-cluttering efforts, but 2014 had its own ideas and the word it dictated for the year was heartbreak.

There are lots of contenders for 2015's word. Humility. Self-Care. Respect. Authenticity. Courage. Acceptance. But in the final analysis, I believe my word for 2015 is:

***

Do you have a word in mind for the year ahead? I'd love if you shared your word (or any other thoughts) in the comments below. Happy New Year, everyone! I hope 2015 will be full of growth for you!

PS: If you're interested in taking Jamie's planning class, I highly recommend it! It's available until January 31, 2015. Here's the link again: "Design Your Year"

Order or Chaos? A Personal Investigation of Muppet Theory

Over the past month, I've had more than one — hr-hrm — amorous dream about Bert or Ernie. The subconscious mind is a funny, funny thing.

After the second one of these dreams, starring Ernie, I posted about it on Facebook. Because I thought it was odd, interesting and funny and I enjoy posting odd, interesting and funny things on Facebook.

My post prompted my friend Todd (of 500 Kindnesses fame) to comment "You have an internal struggle between your inner chaos muppet and order muppet." I thought this was a pretty astute analysis, and was even more impressed when he backed his theory up with this Slate article: Are you a chaos muppet or an order muppet?

I don't think there is much doubt that my personality is dominated by chaos muppet characteristics. I like jokes (Ernie), cookies (Cookie Monster), music (Animal) and am a devoted feminist (Miss Piggy – or is she an order muppet? It's hard to tell, probably because she is both, as one of the few truly 3-dimensional muppet characters...).

If there were any doubt of my chaotic tendencies, one need only look at the way I live: 

My desk as I write this post – chaos abounds!

Yes, on the outside, chaos is definitely winning. However, I think Todd was quite right about the struggle between my INNER chaos and order muppets. It's not all so cut and dried.

I like orderly things, too. I relish sitting down to hours of digital typesetting – imposing order on messy documents — making columns of numbers line up or making translated sets of documents look comparable in very different writing systems, like Farsi, Arabic, Gujarati, Tamil, English. I love my desk work and can happily do it for hours. (Though I know being able to do it in my pyjamas is a big score for my chaos muppets).

Also on the orderly side, I long to de-clutter my life. Especially living in my tiny home this past summer, I saw how much unnecessary stuff is crowding my life. Paper, paper everywhere! Receipts to be recorded and filed for taxes, always done at the very last moment... I am getting tired of living eternally among lost and missing and unnecessary and unsorted things. I think my inner Bert is on the ascent. My Kermit, my Scooter, my Prairie Dawn.

I only hope that my chaos and order muppets will be able to find a sweet harmony — like Bert and Ernie at the end of this song:

Judgy! Judgy! Judgy!

I've been working on this blog post for a few weeks, trying to find just the right way to say what I would like to say about my experience of being judgmental.

But I've been having trouble getting it right. (Ironic, no?)

Then this afternoon, I saw a link to this story about the Non-Judgmental Ninja meme introduced by Wil Wheaton on his blog.

It looks like a lot of people can relate to being more judgmental (of themselves or others) than they'd like to be.

*****
Let me share my experience:
When I look long and hard at myself, I see that one of my biggest struggles in life is around judging other people — and myself.

I've been a judgy person for as long as I can remember.

As far as I can tell, this behaviour stems out of feeling unsafe.

When I'm in a situation that feels unsafe to me, I use judgment to insulate myself from my feelings of fear. I bring up a formula to judge someone who scares, threatens or triggers me and think "I'm not [insert scary, judged character trait here] and people who are [that way] are terrible people and I don't like them."

I've carried this practice like a shield that I could use whenever I felt threatened – as if, as long as I was able to judge other people, I would never have to be vulnerable myself.

I had a conversation with one of my friends a couple of months ago about judgment and about being more tolerant. And these words popped out of my mouth:

"You know, my judgy-ness is just as worthy of compassion as everyone else's issues are."

And I think that's true. (And that is part of what is so lovely about the Non-judgmental Ninja meme.) My judgment and contempt come from a very damaged, ill-functioning place in my personality. They shield very vulnerable, fragile parts of me.

Judgy-ness defies compassion by seeming strong and aggressive, but it desperately need hugs and understanding – just like the various struggles of many other people do. When I engage in judgments, contempt and self-righteousness, it's a sure-fire sign that I don't feel safe – in fact, I am very probably downright terrified.

So, if you can, please forgive me (or any other judgy person in your life). Reassurance and hugs are  helpful – or maybe draw a little Non-Judgmental Ninja cartoon like this one:

December 6, 2014 — the 25th Anniversary of the Montreal Massacre

December 6, 1989

I was a first-year university student, living in residence at the University of Toronto when the news of the Montreal Massacre reached our house's common room. It felt very close to home. These were women very much like me who had enraged a murderous man by their decision and ability to go to university. He exorcised his wrath on them. He made them pay for his rage and frustration. Because he could. And because he felt entitled to do so.

It feels hard to believe that that was 25 years ago.

I'm sure many people are spending this anniversary assessing how much the world has changed and how much it hasn't. The past couple of years have seen an increasing dialogue about sexual violence against women. High-profile, tragic cases like those of Rehtaeh Parsons, Jyoti Singh Pandey, Steubenville, the Chibok schoolgirls abduction and the recent charges laid against Jian Ghomeshi have all brought greater attention to the issues of rape, sexual violence and inequities between men and women and girls and boys around the globe.

This is a good thing.

It's another step on our journey together.

We have a long way to go.

It isn't only the extremes of rape and sexual violence that we are fighting. It's a long enculturation of both men and women that dictates how we feel, what we do, what we say and how we treat one another.

Sexism on a continuum

To my eye, sexism exists on a continuum including (but not limited to): unexamined male privilege > sexist attitudes and jokes > insults > hate > non-lethal sexist violence > sexist policies > rape >  murder

I feel lucky that I have not directly experienced much on the violent end of the sexism spectrum. Most of the sexism I experience is on the merely emotionally demeaning end of the spectrum, ranging from cultural urgings to be skinny and spend a fortune on beauty products in order to enhance my sexual attractiveness for men to sexist jokes/comments to the folksy sexism of our local mayor (and the majority view he represents in my community):

 

 

 

 

 

Taken from the Summer 2014 issue of Municipal Matters,
the quarterly newsletter of the Municipality of the District of Lunenburg.
Nauseating to me, but clearly the editors didn't even bat an eye.
I'm sure it was considered "gallant" and "cute" rather
than patronising and sexist. And don't even get me started
on the topic of women wearing high heels in the first place.

I look in my own heart and see that I am still often afraid to stand up for my feminist principles. Me! I would like to think of myself as a fairly strong and brave person. But I know that often I am not. I  back down from things I want to say because I am afraid of being mocked, disliked, scorned, misunderstood (with the ever-present threats that sit further down the continuum: shunned? hit? raped? shot?)

It's a long journey for all of us

I'd like to think that it could be easy for everyone to simply decide to be motivated by kindness and respect for all other people, regardless of any perceived differences between us. To follow the golden rule. But I know it doesn't work like that. Humans' love of power and control is greater than our love of justice and peace. And there is so much water under the bridge that fresh starts feel impossible. Our attitudes are passed down from generation to generation and coloured by our own experiences.

I wish it were easier to shift my own thinking. I want to develop more courage to be myself and to make larger contributions. I've fought off some aspects of my enculturation, but others are more stubborn, harder to relinquish. I often take the easy route. I "go along to get along". And I often take for granted the way that my privileges of being white, university-educated and middle class insulate me from many of the harshest realities of sexism. I don't do everything I could to stand up for what I believe in or to try to make the world a better place. I get frustrated and discouraged. I have given up more times than I can count – telling myself that it doesn't matter or that it is futile.

On this anniversary, the memory of the 14 women shot at École Polytechnique calls me to do more and to do better.

I am a woman.

I believe all human beings are equal.

I am a feminist.

This post is dedicated to:

Geneviève Bergeron (born 1968), civil engineering student
Hélène Colgan (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Nathalie Croteau (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Barbara Daigneault (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Anne-Marie Edward (born 1968), chemical engineering student
Maud Haviernick (born 1960), materials engineering student
Maryse Laganière (born 1964), budget clerk, finance department
Maryse Leclair (born 1966), materials engineering student
Anne-Marie Lemay (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Sonia Pelletier (born 1961), mechanical engineering student
Michèle Richard (born 1968), materials engineering student
Annie St-Arneault (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Annie Turcotte (born 1969), materials engineering student
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (born 1958), nursing studen

Banjoy Break: Jim Payne and Fergus O'Byrne

A little #banjoy from fellow 2014 Labrador Creative Arts Festival visiting artists, Jim Payne and Fergus O'Bryne:

What an honour and pleasure it was to be a visiting artist at the same time as these two splendid musicians!

High Maintenance Crock Pot Rabbit Stew

I don't think I've ever presented a recipe on this blog before, but the stew I made last night is worthy of sharing.

I come from a family of great "throw-in, stir-in" cooks. Whether it's whipping up an interesting marinade or simmering soup on the stove, we love to get the flavour into and out of our food. From long experience, we know what works and we go from there.

I bought a rabbit this summer from friends and West Dublin Marketeers, Mikee and Jeny. I always meant to cook it up for Sunday Supper for me and my landmates, but summer does not lend itself to roasts or stews and it just never happened. Then, I was invited over for a jam last night at the old homestead and I offered to make and bring supper. With carrots from the garden of my friends and neighbours, John and Debbie; onions, shallots and shitakes from the Lunenburg Farmers Market and garlic from my folks, this was a delicious and very local meal.

I didn't plan ahead or anything, so yesterday morning found me trying to defrost a rabbit in the sink. (I wish I had taken pictures, but I didn't realize at the time that I was going to write this up for my blog.)

A few warnings: Rabbit can be a little fatty. I like fatty foods, but if you don't, you can be more carefully about trimming the fat off your bunny. Also, this is not a set-it-and-forget-it kind of recipe. Because I tinker with flavours and want my veggies not to be disgusting mush, I tended this recipe through the day, adding different things at different times and using the stovetop in tandem with the crock pot for better flavour development. You'll need about 6-8 hours for this recipe. Most of that will be hands-off cooking time, but you are likely to spend a total of about an hour through the day standing over the cutting board and stovetop. Like most stews, while this is very tasty the first day, it tastes even better the next day. Also, rabbits have LOTS of little bones. Please eat with care and warn any guests.

Beware the tiny bunny bones

 

 High Maintenance Crock Pot Rabbit Stew

Hack up 1 rabbit into random pieces and throw them in a large oval crock pot. (I got impatient with the defrosting and my rabbit was still half-frozen when I started cooking it. This was not a problem, but probably added to my cooking time)

Chop one medium onion, one large shallot and mince (or press) 4 cloves of garlic. Sauté in olive oil on the stove top. Add to the crock pot.

Pour in 1.5–2 litres of chicken stock, one bottle Propeller IPA (if you are non-Maritime and don't have access to Propeller beer, any Indian Pale Ale will do) and 1 large can of diced tomatoes with their juices. Add about 1/2 teaspoon of dried thyme and 1 teaspoon ground coriander. Grind black pepper generously over the top. Stir. Cover, turn the crock pot on High and leave to cook. (I would have added a couple of bay leaves, too, except I haven't been able to find them since I moved.)

At about the 4 hour mark, mince (or grate, if you prefer) a two-inch piece of fresh ginger and cut 5-7 carrots into large dice. Sauté the carrots and ginger on the stove top. Add sliced fresh shitake mushrooms and about 3 tablespoons of ketchup. (I can't be bothered to keep tomato paste in the house and use ketchup as a shortcut). Stir and cook until the mushrooms start to soften. Add several ladles of the liquid from the crock pot to the veggies. Stir, cover, bring to a boil, then uncover and simmer until the carrots just begin to get soft and the liquid is somewhat reduced and thickened. Add this mixture to the crock pot. Let cook for one more hour.

Taste the broth. If, like me, you find it a little bland, ladle around 9 ladles-full into a pan on the stove top. Bring to a boil and simmer to reduce. Add about 1 Tablespoon of Grace Jerk Marinade and about 1/2 Tablespoon of fancy molasses. Simmer until it has reduced by about 1/3 to a half. Return to the crock pot. Check the internal temperature of the rabbit. At this point, mine was about 188 degrees Farenheit and getting loose of the bones. If that is also the case for you, your meal is now safely cooked. Change the temperature on the crock pot to Low and continue cooking for another hour or two, just to develop the flavours. During the last hour, cook up some rice (or other preferred starch – I made a blend of Lundburg Country Wild and long-grain brown rice).

Then, if you're driving an hour to supper like I was, leave the stew in the crock pot on the floor of the car and pray it doesn't spill too much. When you get to your destination, turn it back on at High for a half hour or so to bring it up to temp. (You can take its temperature if you're feeling kind of anal, but it should be fine, as long as there hasn't been any cross contamination. )

Serve with rice or other starch. Others at our dinner last night provided delicious roasted veggies (beets, sweet potatoes, potatoes) and a curried apple and sunflower sprout salad. It was an awesome meal – YUM!

Greasy good leftovers for breakfast this morning.
Om nom nom!

Home Sweet Home

I just got back yesterday from a week spent at the 39th Annual Labrador Creative Arts Festival. (If you'd like to read about my experiences there in detail, please visit my music blog here).

The trip was amazing – very intense and very social. I was a bit worried that I wasn't going to come through it gracefully, when it had only been a couple of weeks since I had been feeling so depressed.

Fortunately, I passed the test! I feel like I did a good job. I learned a lot. I shared some of my knowledge and songs and experiences.

And boy, is it ever good to be home again! It's good to have the option of solitude and peacefulness. It's good to have time to rest, relax, write and process the week.

I have some personal work ahead of me now. During the trip, I let go of my food intentions completely and only did yoga for the first three days. I didn't want to put pressure on myself to try to maintain my relatively unfamiliar self-care routine in the face of a hectic schedule. The important thing was to keep going and have fun. And if that meant reverting to a few old crutches, like sugar or a glass of wine at a soirée, I wasn't going to fuss about it.

For the most part, I didn't have too many dark thoughts intruding. I think I was too busy to feel down, even in the face of making less healthy choices.

I certainly noticed a difference in my body, and especially my digestion, eating delicious things like flummies and fish and chips, and my big fall-back: trail mix laced with pralined nuts and Reese's Pieces:

Instant energy!

I'm looking forward to getting back on board with a healthier diet and a calmer schedule.

Yesterday afternoon, I did a little work, snuggled with Salinger and then slept for eleven hours last night! Today I got up, did yoga, ate rice and veggies for breakfast and went to the farmers' market.

It feels very good to be back home!

Depression Part 3: I'm BAAAAAAACK!

I was walking across the parking lot at the Lunenburg Farmer's Market this morning and I thought, "What a beautiful day!" It was grey and soft and warm for November. I smiled and I realized that I'm back.

I feel like myself again.

There's a smile on my face and I feel juicy. I have dug a little deeper in my well and struck a gushing spring. I have been buoyed up to the surface, laughing and soaking wet.

I feel so, so lucky.

I feel lucky, but it's not really luck. It's the support of friends and family. It's the karma of past generosity paying dividends. It's the benefits of creativity and making investments in my life that I can count on to be there for me when the chips are down. It's the result of taking a good, hard look at what I need and what I want and making an effort to change the way I was thinking about myself and the way I have been treating myself.

I had let myself get so run down.

I was thinking terrible things about myself: that I'm not good enough, that I'm not entitled to enjoy life, that life is a terrible thing, a burden, a misery of worries and grief and unsolvable problems. That no one is ever going to love me. I got sucked into a world view of pain and rejection and loneliness. It stirred up familiar pain, rejection and loneliness from my past.

I got stuck.

Well, I call bullsh*t on all that. Many people already do love me. And I love myself. I love my explorations in life, even the things that could be categorized as mistakes. I'm perfectly entitled to live my life the way I see fit. I don't have to do things to prove myself to anybody; I don't have to do things I don't want to do because of some imaginary shoulds — or shoulds that are placed on me by other people. I don't have to be a saint, angel or martyr. As Mary Oliver wrote in her wonderful and much referred to poem, Wild Geese:

"You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting."

These have been the crappiest three months (or perhaps 6, 9, 12, 18? months) that I can remember in my adult life. And they are over.

Now I know that I can get that lost and find my way back to myself again.


Taking better care of myself these past couple of weeks has made a big difference. I've been eating good food, most of the time, and not kicking myself when I've decided to eat stuff that is less good for me (i.e. not food). I haven't been drinking any alcohol. I've done yoga every single day (except this Monday, when I went to Nia class instead). Yoga feels amazing. I've been telling myself good things; reminding myself frequently. I plan to keep it up. I feel amazing.

Which means things are back to normal. Only better. I'm generally a pretty up person. I love my work, my life, my community. Now I feel like I have some more tools to look out for my typical pitfalls.

This episode has been a wake-up call to take better care of myself, to take my well-being more seriously. I am committed to better boundaries and a better attitude toward myself.

I'm sure there will still be dark and difficult days – but they will be wet and splashy ones, not dry and dusty ones, and for that, I am very, very grateful.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. 
— Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

Banjoy Break –– Ola Belle Reed

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a house concert with Sam and Joe Herrman. They were awesome and I'm sure at some point, I will share some of their music here. But today, I feel like sharing the original version of a song they covered that evening: I've Endured, by Ola Belle Reed. 

I had never heard of Ola Belle Reed before and I am very grateful to have been introduced to her music, and the spirit that shines through it. 

Enjoy:

Body wisdom Part 4: just pretend they're made of plastic

Depression Part 2a: The Hard Way or The Easy Way?

I received a lot of lovely feedback to my post before this one. 

I was interested by the tone some of that feedback took. Probably about a quarter of the responses I received on Facebook said something along the lines of "Don't be hard on yourself if you can't maintain all of those rules (that regime/program, etc)".

I think the plan I laid out looked ambitious to people – like I might be biting off more than I can chew. And maybe it looks like I'm trying to "willpower" my way out of feeling depressed.

But I don't think that's what's going on for me. I believe I got depressed because I wasn't taking care of myself. I got myself into a situation where I felt like I was being drained and I didn't manage to keep very good boundaries or assert myself for my own wellbeing. As a result, my well ran dry. And because I don't have very good skills when it comes to self-care, I couldn't seem to get the water level to rise back up in the well. Before I realized what was going on, I was depressed and starting to feel a bit desperate.

My plan, however, is not desperate. It's just the kind of simple plan for living that many, many people enact every day without even thinking about it: moderate, healthy eating, exercise, relaxation, sane boundaries on work, etc. The trouble for me is that I don't know how to do most of these things. Before this fall, I never really stopped to consider what I needed to live a healthy life. When I felt down I just had an ice cream or worked for 14 hours and it went away. This depression has forced me to examine where I'm at and what I need.

I believe that I need to change my ways; to develop some new skills and habits.

As Maya Angelou said (and as a dear friend recently relayed to me):

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.”

EASE is the key!

The plan that I've set out mostly consists of things that make my life easier, not more difficult. For example:

• Eating less sugar/drinking no alcohol protects me from:
• unnecessary, chemically-induced highs and lows;
• masking my true feelings; and
• spending money (that I could using more productively in my life) on wine, chocolate or cola.
• Finding out if I have food sensitivities is going to keep me from feeling dragged down because  I won't be unknowingly eating food that doesn't agree with me.
• I've had a daily yoga practice in the past, so I know I can do it. Yoga is something I love and that makes me feel good. I'm pretty much going to stick to beginner classes for the foreseeable future so it will be easy and satisfying, not difficult or frustrating.

Admittedly, some of these changes are more challenging than others:

• I know putting boundaries around work is difficult for me. I toyed with the idea of a 50-hour-a-week maximum or a policy of no work on Sundays and I knew I just couldn't do it. My work comes in irregularly. It often needs to be turned around quickly. That is the nature of the beast and I accept that. However, I have promised myself that when I'm on the fence about accepting more work, I'm going to try hard to land on the "no" side of the fence more often than I have in the past.
• Walking: this might be the one thing on my list that is an actual mistake. I don't really like to walk. I think I should like it, but I'm very rarely actually in the mood to go for a walk. And the weather is going to be crappy for the next few months. Indeed, some days this week, I have not even stepped outside the house. I am outlawing shoulds. Consider this axed from the plan.
• Feeling my feelings: yes, this is a toughie for me. I often prefer to pretend my feelings aren't happening (Not eating copious amounts of sugar helps. Without that crutch to lean on, it's harder to deny my feelings).
• Think positively whenever possible: I'm trying. Admittedly, my journal is full to the brim with bitterness. I figure the best I can do for now is to let it come up and move through it as quickly as possible. And I've set aside 5 minutes before each meal to relax and focus on the positive. That is helping me to look on the bright side, and also to eat slowly and digest well.

 I didn't put anything REALLY difficult into the plan...

There's no requirement for me to eat kale or even salad. I'm not giving up sugar entirely, or meat, or carbs or fat. I never have to be hungry. My meals are still delicious. I don't have to train for a marathon. I don't have to try to find a soulmate on the Internet dating or apply for and take a square job. I don't have to make any plans for the future. I don't have to play guitar every day (unless I want to). I don't have to do anything that doesn't suit my heart, mind, body and spirit in the moment. 

How's it going so far?

So how is it going? Not bad, actually. On Monday, I felt pretty good. Yesterday and today have been okay, at best, but I'm not complaining. I'm enjoying my meals. I'm enjoying yoga practice. The positive thinking seems to be helping to ease some of the dark thoughts that were hounding me. I'm doing pretty well at staying in the present moment and feeling my feelings. I'm happy with my food choices. (That's easiest when I'm at home, but even when I went to the city on Tuesday, I managed to recognize the stupid temptations for what they were. I mean, I wouldn't even enjoy a jalapeno angus burger from McDonald's. When I saw the sign, I wanted one, but I knew not to give that desire any credence).

I'm enjoying taking it easy. I'm working, sure, but I'm also doing jigsaw puzzles and watching Downton Abbey and spending large amounts of time playing with Salinger. I am enjoying being by myself and keeping things very quiet and peaceful. There is no drama in my life right now. No stress or upset. I have released myself from expectations. I am allowing myself to recuperate.   


I know this wouldn't be the right path for everyone to try to heal from depression. As I said, I think my depression resulted directly from me not taking care of myself. So, starting to take care of myself feels like a logical first step to try to correct the situation. If this doesn't work, I have lots of options I can try, from talk therapy to pharmaceutical intervention.

For now I'm giving myself some time to see how I get along.

Depression Part 2: What do I need to do for myself right now?

It's November 1st and Salinger and I are in our new winter accomodations.

Salinger, our yoga mat and all of the boxes that still need to be unpacked...

This is about a fresh-start-y as it gets, I think. And I need a fresh start.

I've really let myself sink down into the depths over the past year and more. The depression I've been evading most of my life has caught up with me. I've been looking at everything through ugly lenses, seeing the worst in myself, in my life, in the culture/society and world in which I live. What a downer I've been on!

I feel like I needed to go down this rabbit hole. I needed to finally admit to my struggles with depression. Once I realized I was depressed, I decided to give myself two weeks to wallow with all my might. I cried whenever I felt like it. I slept during the day. I thought dark thoughts about things and people. I ate tons of sugar and junk food.

It felt good. But partly it felt good because I knew it was for just a little longer. I knew that a change and a fresh start were ahead of me. I knew I was moving and I knew I had a plan for what this move is going to mean for me.

Basically, I have decided to take better care of myself. The depression that I grew up with and denied and defied, was always telling me the same things: You're not important. Other people's feelings are more important that your feelings. Other people's needs are more important than your needs.

Indeed, other people's feelings/needs might well be more important than my feelings and needs TO THOSE OTHER PEOPLE – fair enough. My problem was that I came to believe that other people's feelings and needs should more important than mine TO ME. Essentially, this means that I haven't been able to focus on taking good care of myself. Even if I was depleted or hurting, I would try to find a way to keep giving other people what I thought (and/or what they were telling me) they needed.

Sugar has been my best helper — and my worst saboteur...

I've really leaned on sugar to help me live my life. Whenever I was sad, angry or upset, a little sugar would numb those emotions and enable me to act cheerful. I thought that was a good thing because I thought other people needed/wanted me to act cheerful. Maybe they did and maybe they didn't, but that's what I believed.

The trouble is that the amount of sugar I was consuming was really unhealthy. I've watched myself gain a few pounds every year and it's getting to a critical point where I don't feel healthy in my body anymore. I don't like the place I'm in emotionally, either. All the sugar in the world can't get me out of the spot I find myself in now – in fact, I think all of the sugar highs and lows and all of the denial sugar lets me do has been making everything worse.

In order to spare myself and others from having to accept/witness some of my emotions, I have been hurting myself.

It stops here.

I have a new mantra: Sugar is a flavouring, not a food (and I'm counting alcohol as a form of sugar). I'm still going to have some sugar-containing foods – as condiments, as seasoning, as very occasional treats, but no more sugar as food. No more sugar as emotional refuge. No more resorting on a daily basis to chocolate bars and soda pop and cake and cookies and ice cream. I'm not doing this to myself anymore.

Self-care begins here

Yes, I have a plan to take better care of myself. It starts today and it goes like this:

• Change the sugar thing;
• Check for food sensitivities: today I'm starting two weeks of no gluten, dairy, soy or corn and then will introduce them back one at a time to see if I'm sensitive to any of those foods. I've been suspicious of dairy for a while and I'm curious about the others. Here was breakfast:
  

  

  Yes, that's brown rice, pickled ginger and avocado. It was delicious!

• Implement some of the other strategies from the Tranform Your Relationship with Food course that I took in the spring, especially slowing down and relaxing my eating and preparing healthy snacks so I always have some on hand;
• Shop for local, sustainable food at the local farmers' markets;
• Use my awesome adjustable desk in the standing position more of the time;
• Use fitbolt.com to make sure that I take regular breaks for movement when I am working/playing at the computer;
• Practice yoga regularly – I'm shooting for half an hour a day (I'm doing the 15-day free trial at yogaglo.com) with one 60 or 90 minute session on the weekend. Salinger was a fan of and active participant in our first yoga practice this morning;
• Dance Nia once a week – one of the benefits in living near Mahone Bay is being close to Kathleen Naylor's awesome Nia class at the Mahone Bay centre;
• Do something fun and frivolous at least once a week – a concert, movie, play, coffee date or meal out;
• Simplify: my life, my eating, my schedule, my volunteer commitments, my stuff;
• Try to put some boundaries around work – this is going to be a toughy. As I head into my busy season and think about what I can do, I no I can't take a day off or limit my number of hours per week for the jobs that I commit to. But I can limit the number of jobs I accept and I plan to;
• Walk: I am in the heart of Rails-to-Trails country here in Martin's River. I've downloaded the map and I intend to explore;
• Allow myself to feel my feelings;
• Allow myself to express my feelings;
• Think positively whenever possible (yes, Stuart Smiley fans, I am indulging in daily affirmations :-);
• Allow myself to be imperfect at all of this, keep feeling my feelings and keep trying again (or tweaking) whenever something doesn't work for me.

Farewell for now, Wholehearted House

It's moving day here and I'm up early (but not too early, thankfully).

It's a chilly morning, about 7 degrees outside (and I'm sure inside as well). In a few days, it is forecast to go down to 3 overnight, and eventually, if this winter is anything like last winter, it will be -17. Brrrr! 

I know in my bones that I am making the right decision. I really don't want to be stoking the fire every two to four hours, 24 hours a day for the next six months. I just don't have it in me. 

Downgrade me from Eco-warrior to Eco-Peace Corps Officer, I guess. 

Although actually, that's not entirely fair. While this place is super-sustainable in warm weather (low water and electricity use), the windows are so non-air-tight, I'd be heating the outdoors all winter trying to stay warm - and that is not a very ecologically sound thing to do. And it would also be exhausting. 

The winter accommodation I've found is only about twice as big as my tiny home and it's properly insulated with much better windows. Yes, it wins the efficiency (and ease) contest by a mile. 

I'm going to miss this place. There is a very special energy here. Last night she gave me a farewell gift, this sunset:

And while I don't have the technology I would need to take a picture of the moon and stars last night and this morning, take my word for it that they are glorious!

I'll be back for visits! And although spring is six months away, it will return eventually!

%$#&, I'm Depressed

Wow. Those are not words I thought I would ever say.

During my life, I've been around a lot of people who struggle with depression. I've been in relationships with them in various capacities: lover, partner, friend, family member, colleague, etc. Sometimes the depression was spoken and/or diagnosed, sometimes it was not. Sometimes the depression was masquerading as alcoholism. Sometimes it seemed like it was the other way around (I'm not entirely sure how depression and alcoholism are related, but it seems pretty clear that they are – they have far too much in common to be otherwise. A Google search for "Which comes first, depression or alcoholism", pulls up 1.2 million hits, so I'm not alone in seeing that there are connections).

I have never been very tolerant of other people's depression. It hurt me. It scared me. Especially when I was a child and adolescent. People with depression often behave in ways that I will simply categorize here as "not very nice". Mired in darkness themselves, they do and say things that are, well, dark. In order to protect myself, I adopted a stance of contempt and self-righteousness. I labelled people with depression as "drama queens", "bullies", "weaklings", "a$$holes". I decided that I was better than them and that I would never be like that. 

But wait, %&*#!—

The trouble is that depression is contagious. (A Google search pulls up more than 800,000 hits for "Is Depression Contagious?"). From my first relationship with a depressed person, it was already too late. I could fight it and I could struggle to heal. And I did. I went to therapy for years and I worked out a lot of things. But I had a big block: I would never accept that I experienced depression. Depression was always an SEP (Somebody Else's Problem). 

Eventually, there had to be a day of reckoning. In order to heal the wounds that depression has inflicted on me and the depression I've internalized, I would have to accept that depression is in me too.  
 

It happened last week. That's when I realized that I'm currently depressed. This revelation came to me at the start of my yoga class last Monday, when for no apparent reason, I began to cry. (Which reminded me of being in a yoga class years ago in which someone burst out crying and proceeded to spend most of the class having a breakdown in the middle of the room. I remember being in a silent rage about it. Didn't she have the decency to leave the room? Didn't she know that the rest of us were trying to relax? Yes, when I say I approached depression from a place of judgment and intolerance, that the kind of thing I'm talking about.)

I managed not to disrupt class last Monday. I was able to keep my tears quiet and eventually I got them under control. I feel grateful that I managed to not make a scene by leaving or by sobbing all over everybody else's yoga. But bursting into tears in a public place, even if few people noticed, forced me to admit to myself that I've been experiencing a lot of unprovoked crying lately. And a number of other tell-tale signs. 

I'm depressed? What was my first clue?

1. okay, the unprovoked crying thing is a major giveaway
2. excessive irrational irritability
3. a tendency to go back to bed in the middle of the day and stay there for a suspiciously long time
4. difficulty sleeping at night (tossing and turning or waking up at two, three or four a.m. and not being able to get back to sleep)
5. things that used to be pleasurable for me currently are not
6. I started writing my first blog post about depression eight days ago and every day until today, I've tried and failed to hit the "Publish" button. 
7. I feel listless and am having trouble getting motivated to do things (for instance, I'm moving at the end of the week and I haven't really packed anything yet)
8. I have periods of feeling totally numb and/or not present (aka: zombie mode) 
9. random pain: tummy aches, ear aches, headaches
10. feeling removed from my normal appreciation of the beauty of the world (For instance, I drove past the LaHave River valley last night as the sun was setting and it was gloriously wrapped in autumn colours. Normally, such a sight would fill me with wonder and awe. Last night, I thought, "That's pretty" and I didn't feel anything.)
11. an inability to suppress or deny the dark thoughts that I used to be able to suppress and deny
12. I hear things coming out of my mouth that I wasn't thinking and don't mean (or wasn't consciously thinking and wish I didn't mean)
13. the future feels like something to hide or run away from, not something to make plans for or embrace
14. the dirty laundry is shin deep and I don't want to do anything about it
15. I can smell something rotting in my fridge and I'm not the least bit interested in looking for it and throwing it out
16. I can smell something rotting in my car and I'm not the least bit interested in looking for it and throwing it out (I mean, seriously, my car has fruit flies and it looks like the only thing that's going to change that is a good hard frost)

Saturday was our last West Dublin Community Market of 2014 and not one, but two people made a point of saying to me (with kindness and concern) that they were glad to see me looking better – that at the last market two weeks ago they had been worried about me. And you know what – I'm not even really able to remember that market two weeks ago. Obviously, I was in zombie mode and didn't even know it. But it was apparent to others.

 

I know I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'll take it as a good sign that two smart and perceptive people think I'm "looking better" than I was two weeks ago. And my ability to push the "Publish" button seems to be returning, so I take that as a good sign, too. 

 

What now?

I take hope from simply being aware of what's going on. Given that I've been refusing to admit to any kind of depression for most of my life, I'm a bit surprised at how quickly I've been able to accept what's happening now. Obviously, something in me has grown and softened. I'm not angry at myself for being depressed. I'm feeling humbled, but not humiliated. I'm making some plans for how I'm going to work this through. And I know I have resources to turn to if those plans aren't enough.

 

I expect I'll have a lot of things to say about this experience. There will be more blog posts. Even if it takes me a while to hit the "Publish" button, I'll get them up here eventually. 

 

NOTE: by a happy(?) coincidence, Canadian singer-songwriter Amelia Curran distributed a wonderful video about depression last week. As I'm struggling to make sense of where I'm at, I have found it to be good company. It points out that 100% of Canadians are affected by the impacts of mental illness through themselves, a family member or loved one. Given that all of us have some experience with depression, it's kind of shocking that we don't often talk about it and its impacts. I am lucky to have a few dear family members and friends with whom I can talk and/or exchange letters about depression. I didn't feel much like talking this past week, though, and this video was a wonderful, safe-feeling way to be reminded that I am not alone. I encourage you to watch Amelia Curran's video at the thisvideo.ca website (or simply click play below). 

Beginnings and Endings

I'm currently taking Firefly Creative Writing's online Coming Home to Writing course – for the second time. It's the kind of course that I could take an infinite number of times and ​I think I would ​get something more out of it each time.

In last week's class, our facilitator, Chris Kay Fraser, distributed her awesome Life C​ycle of Creative Projects. We discussed it as a class and ​I found it very interesting to see the many similar and different takes people have on the process. (If you're interested in exploring this yourself, I encourage you to take the class!)
​ ​
As a second-timer, I've seen the Life C​ycle before, but this time through, It led me ​in​to an epiphany about my process and about myself.

I hate beginnings and endings

The stuff in the middle is all cool. I love all the ideas and chaos and the processes of writing and editing. But I hate the fallow stage before a project and I hate the process of finishing a project and rendering it up to the world.

This holds true in my life as well. I love living my life and I don't mind tweaking things here and there, but starting and ending – jobs, relationships, homes – makes me feel crazy. Just ask anyone I've ever dated if the first two weeks were not stupidly insane and insanely stupid? So much so that many people have opted out after the first date or two​. (Or I have run like hell – anything to escape feeling so awkward).

Once I get over that initial ​hump, I don't do too badly, but getting in​to a relationship is hard – it stirs up so many difficult emotions.

And endings, well, I tend to drag those out – desperately postponing inevitable changes.

Given my life experiences, these tendencies make sense. My infancy was crappy, much of it spent in the hospital. Not a pleasant beginning. The first major ending I experienced was the break-up of my parents' marriage and the upheaval of ​our family when I was 7​.​ Also not fun.

So, my initial experiences with beginnings and endings were difficult. I was too young to make any sense of them, so instead I developed other strategies: a tendency to try to​ JUMP over beginnings and to DRAG out endings. My aversion to major transitions has led me to make some poor life decisions when my avoidance of beginnings or endings overruled my desire for what I wanted or muffled my understanding of what was right for me.

This feels like a challenging pattern to try to change.

Cultivating love and grace in beginnings and endings

I saw this meme on Facebook this week:*​

From https://www.flickr.com/photos/kaysha/9641391266/
​*Please note that according to fakebuddhaquotes.com,
this quote was not actually spoken by Buddha – it is adapted
from Jack Kornfield’s Buddha’s Little Instruction Book.​

It strikes me that I live pretty gently as long as I'm in the middle of things. But in beginnings, I fail to love (embrace, welcome) and during endings, I fail to have grace (I clutch, I balk).​

So here is work for me to do – learn how to relax into beginnings and endings. To cultivate more love and more grace. There are more beginnings coming (hopefully) and definitely more endings, (including the ​BIG ending: Death).

​It's never too soon or too late to work for internal changes that cultivate greater peace and open up more opportunities.

Debt Reduction: Please Stop Trying to Loan Me More Money!

So remember when I posted a few weeks ago about my debt situation? Well, I filled in the paperwork to have the limit on my line of credit reduced by $5,000 and instead, the bank increased it by $10,000. So now I have access to $15,000 that I don't want. I wanted my temptations reduced.

I long to buy a 'round the world ticket and then declare bankruptcy.

I am a responsible adult. I am a responsible adult. I am a responsible adult.

Farewell to the beach

It's starting to sink in that I am moving away from the beach in 18 days.

I'm going to be moving 50 minutes away. Sure, I'll still be only five minutes away from the ocean, but it's rocky coast where I'm going, so I'll be cut off from the long, solitary, sandy walks that I've come to love.

I've decided that as long as it is not pouring rain, I'm going to go for a walk on the beach every day until I move.

On today's walk, I took this photo:

This is what I love about the ocean and the beach – the reminder that things are impermanent and that we are all insignificant in the face of the inevitability of vast forces that sit outside of our control. All of us are just specks: you, me, Janna (obviously)  and even Frank. Eventually, the tide rises high enough to wipe all traces of us from this earth.

All the dramas and upsets of daily life, all of the broken hearts and disappointments, all of the moments of joy and elation, they are all easily re-absorbed into the ocean that is time, life, the VERSE (Very Enormous Random Swirl of Events).

I find that comforting, when I can remember it. And the beach helps me to remember. I will miss it.

Body Wisdom Part 3: Getting hurt and getting healed

It's been a doozy of a week. 

Over the weekend, I noticed my cat, Salinger, was acting strangely. He was cranky and hissing and growling, which is very unlike his usual behaviour. Earlier in the day, I had spotted the neighbour cat (Sal's nemesis) in our home scoffing Sal's food and I put his mood down to that. But on Monday, it was obvious that Sal was in pain, sick, listless and favouring his left rear foot.

I booked the first available appointment at my vet clinic (for the early afternoon) and spent the morning watching Sal and worrying. Once at the vet I learned that Sal had a high fever and then discovered that he had a massive abscessed cat bite under his left rear leg. The vet clinic I go to is wonderful. Sal was swiftly sedated, injected with an antibiotic and had his abscess lanced. I paid the bill and Sal was released into my care: woozy and limp. 

He's spent the days since convalescing: antibiotics twice a day, warm compresses as often as he'll let me. And he's been healing day by day. Today he's much improved - walking without a limp and able to hop up easily on the chair or bed. From now on he'll just be trying to break out of the house. But I want to keep him in for at least another day, maybe two. And so we're hanging out in our tiny home - trying to have some fun and some cuddles and spend this time well until he's mended enough to go back out into the big, bad world. 

My experiences with Sal this week have got me thinking about hurts and recovery for myself as well. 

Like Salinger, I have a naturally exuberant, gregarious personality. I love my life and I love being out in the world. But lately, I've been cranky and down-hearted. And for exactly the same reason as Salinger - I got hurt. And it got infected. 

I sought out the lancing, but I haven't been taking my antibiotics and I haven't been keeping myself safe indoors and scratching myself behind the ears and telling myself that I am a good Alex.

Salinger's terrible week has taught me a lesson. To slow down, to be kinder to myself, to keep myself safe until I'm healed.

His hissing and growling over the weekend has made me look at my own tendency to hiss and growl, lately. It is a natural reaction to become defensive and hostile when one is hurt. Animal Behaviour 101.

I can see where this path could lead if I don't take care to find healing for myself soon. I don't want to become bitter and harsh just because I got hurt. Getting hurt was not my choice, but what I decide to do about it is. 

So, I've decided that this is going to be the winter of naps in sunbeams and healthy food. Of jigsaw puzzles and meditation and yoga. Of staying in and journaling and relaxing. I'm going to hang out and lick my wounds until they heal. Until I feel like myself again. And I'll be in good company with my little, orange buddy.

Theatre Review: It Is Solved By Walking

SPOILER ALERT! This review reveals important information about the plot of this play. If you are in Newfoundland, you have the opportunity to see this play at the LSPU from October 22–26, 2014. I recommend you go see the play, rather than read my thoughts about it.

I went to see a play yesterday at Neptune Theatre: It is Solved by Walking, written by Catherine Banks, performed by Ruth Lawrence and Hugh Thompson and directed by Mary Vingoe.

The play makes use of Wallace Stevens' poem 13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird as a structure for the play which explores art, sex, ambition and the politics of the relationship between the protagonist, Margaret and her (now dead) husband, John.

The play essentially looks at the way sex and love intersect with the work of being a creator (in this case, a poet and poetry scholar) and a woman.

The story of Margaret and John's relationship and of Margaret's "twice deferred, never defended" doctoral thesis is teased out in a conversation between Margaret and Wallace Stevens, who appears here as her imaginary friend, scrutineer, mentor and tormentor.

The questions the play raises are many: Did Margaret's husband sabotage her career? Did she use him as a convenient excuse to not do the work of her thesis and her poetry writing? Was her need to be loved, and to show her husband that she loved him, greater than her need to do her work? What happened to the ambition and confidence she felt as a young woman? Did the inequality that grew in the face of her husband's status of "Doctor" silence her? Did the glory of her husband's rise to Dean of Graduate Studies eclipse her? What role was played by the sexist external culture at play in their lives? What by the quality of the relationship that existed between Margaret and John? And what by the uneasy relationship between Margaret's body and her mind – her sexual longings, her pregnancies, her miscarriage, her abortion? Or the complications of her pregnancies in her fundamentally insecure relationship with her husband (symbolized by her realization that "If I have this baby, he is going to leave me. If I don't have this baby – he is going to leave me.") What of the inevitable breakdown of their marriage and her husband's affair? And years later, his death in a brutal car crash?

Toward the end of the play, Margaret takes the props we have seen in use during the play: several books of poetry, a roll of paper representing her husband's PhD, the red silk shawl he gave to her early in their relationship (when they were in love and in the height of their lust for one another), a crumpled sheet representing the last, hateful time that she and her husband had sex and the bowl of oranges she had always kept in her bedroom in reference to Wallace Stevens' Sunday Morning: "complacencies of the peignoir, and late coffee and oranges in a sunny chair". She rolls the bowl of oranges on to the floor – a representation of the elemental force of chaos, to my mind – and then decribes the "Universe of Margaret", carefully stepping over each item and leading Wallace Stevens in her wake. She is making sense of her path, her twisty, winding, complicated path.

Throughout the play, Wallace Stevens calls on Margaret to pay attention to the "sensations". To forget the words of "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird", to forget the thoughts and memories about John and her analysis of their relationship (likening that to running electrical current through a dead frog – my favourite line in the show; I wish I could remember it word-for-word). Wallace Stevens calls Margaret to get to the reality of things, to the sensations, to her actual experience of being alive. 

Does it matter how she went astray or why? Or even if she went astray at all? At the end of the play, Margaret composes a couple of lines of poetry with which she feels somewhat satisfied. For me, this is where we have been headed all along: through the grief and the betrayal, through the lust and pleasure, back to the calling that Margaret clearly feels, though she has struggled with it and against it for most of her life: the call to create, to put one word after another in the right order until she has expressed something true, something that satisfies her.

And it is something that satisfies Wallace Stevens, too. He has spent much of the play perched at a height, his writing desk and chair at the top of a stepladder about 12 feet about the rest of the set. Sometimes, he has come down to wrangle and grapple with Margaret, to take a role in the unfolding drama of her narrative. Some of these scenes felt to me like balletic pas de deux (kudos to Alexis Milligan for the play's choreography). At the very end of the play, Wallace descends and Margaret ascends to write her lines. Perhaps it was Wallace Stevens she needed to work things out with, more than her husband. Perhaps it was the inner critic, the unreachable standard, that she needed to lay to rest and with whom she needed to make her peace. We leave her writing. As it should be.

To my mind and heart, this was a fascinating play and an excellent production of it. 

If you are interested in reading the play, you can buy a copy of it here. Or ask for it at your local library.