Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 10
September 5, 2022
In this state of mind…
Today’s truths…
The magic is everywhere…the clock gives me 34s and 11:11s, each song on the radio is a message from an angel…the title of the song, the lyrics…the birds swoop above me, reminding me how to fly…family and friends storm me with love…in voice, in texts, in emails…I’m a grateful and could not breathe without this reality…
Yet there is an armour of fear over my chest causing very little can penetrate…and if it does, it is slippery…fluid and drains into the darkness…even though I feel the worry and the fear…the love and light seems not to hold space…
When I read a paragraph in a book, I think: damn, that’s amazing. I can’t do that…
When I hear a beautiful voice sing, I think: I wish I could sing like her…
When I see my reflection in the mirror, I think: who are you?
An incredible phenomenon is that the cruelty aimed at me, and the pain it electrifies has been living in me for as long as I can remember…I am staring at this feast of inner darkness…
The voices in my head filter everything through comparison. The voices in my head filter everything through should I? Shouldn’t I? What will they think? Who will read it? Who will care and how? Is any of it supposed to matter? If so, how? What am I supposed to ‘like’…?
My thoughts are in full spin. My light is in full strobe. And like the birds, I swoop in and out of feeling ‘me’ and yet I can’t feel the movement flight enables…I can’t be still in anything for long enough to know it…
If my purpose is in the words, in the meanings, in the being in the language that connects us…this disconnection I feel is terrifying…
I’m in the ellipsis…between the dots…stumbling or crawling or hiding or standing up in my strength like a maple tree…only to break open and see the sun shining on the seeds vibrating in my soul…
I can see myself on the stages of my destiny…but I can’t feel my body…
The magic is alive. I know that…my intuition is in synch…but the rest…the rest in tornado…
And so…how to navigate? How to choose? There are so many doors…
If I’m quiet it’s because I’m taking to the page…I’m going to the words, to the meanings, to the possibilities…because I really, really want to take hold of my flapping heart reins and see the beauty of the paths ahead…
(…and someone will think this is dramatic, and someone will think I’m being silly, and someone will roll their eyes, and someone will say – there’s a war going on and people who are homeless, stop complaining, and someone will…and someone will…and someone will….and all these someone’s are in my mind…yelling or punching or laughing or choking….and the someones lead me into spirals that I jump into because still another someone wants to understand, to listen, to help, to change, to love, to love, to love…the spirals all end and I am…I am…)
September 2, 2022
Ten Truths & Summer Recap
Ten TruthsTRUTH #1: I have started writing this blog over and over and over. Today, I commit to writing and finishing it.
TRUTH #2: Since I began my post as Poet Laureate, I have retreated. I have felt fears I haven’t felt since I was a child. I have felt small, humiliated, weak, ugly, and oh, so not good enough.
TRUTH #3: I have been writing in my journal as a way to cope. For many weeks, this was the only kind of writing I could do. When I tried to write a poem, I was utterly silenced by terrible voices in my head stemming from a deep fear of failure. I could not see the poetry around me. I could not hear the words that have constantly flowed like music in my mind offering me inspiration to write. They retreated too, silenced by the voices. I have never in my creative life felt so unable, so powerless, so voiceless.
TRUTH #4: Yes, there were external happenings that triggered this fear. And, for many weeks, I curled into the darkness of the cruelty and hid from opportunities, from confrontation, from the mirrors that these happenings were holding up for me.
TRUTH #5: After many hard cries and very near full-on give-ups…followed by engaging in heart-to-heart conversations with friends and family, and long, mermaid-magical swims in Lake Erie…I realized that all these emotions, fuelled by this dark fear, came from a choice I made when I was very afraid as a young girl. I realized the connections between someone who I was terrified of then, someone who I was terrified of now, and the difference in my ability to choose how to react and respond to the fear these humans unleashed in me. I believe in the kindness and guidance of community. I acknowledge that we each support, promote, believe and express those rights and freedoms that our heart and souls command us to embrace.I believe that we are all equal. Respect between humans is integral to the unconditional exchange of love.
TRUTH #6: I am in the tumult of a soul-level shift in my being. Of my understanding of who I am, why I am, and how I can revise, rebuild and reinvigorate my voice as a writer. I am reclaiming Love as the centre of everything, of everyone, of every choice I make in response to everything that I experience.
TRUTH #7: My time is valuable. My heart has a voice, and what it has to say matters. I love writing and I want to write all.the.time. I love reading and I want to read all.the.time. I am learning how to prioritize without guilt and trust my intuition when making choices about my family life and my creative life. I am learning how to navigate my natural tendencies to make myself wrong, less than and inadequate – to acknowledge and feel these reactions, and to move beyond them. This is a part of my creative process.
TRUTH #8: I have let fear make me feel rage-full. I have let fear make me fly into darkness and hide. Both of these actions have lessons within them. I am swimming inside them gently, coming up for air and learning how to confront with kindness. Confrontation can happen internally and externally. I am learning how to face confrontation with love.
TRUTH #9: My spiritual life is very important to me. I am embracing my voice as a spiritual writer. Each day, I am committed to developing my relationship with nature, prayer, gratefulness and peace. I wear beads. I hold stones. I pull cards. I howl at the moon. I move with the seasons and nature’s authentic changes.
TRUTH #10: I am a writer. Nothing can change this. No one can change this. Systemic measurements, academic comparisons, opinions and judgements will not change the fact that it is part of my life’s purpose to write. I understand that the ultimate joy of this practise, that the magnitude of love that flows through me and between me and you will equal in size and power to the darkness and cruelty that will accompany my life’s work as a writer. This is who I am, who I choose to be, and how I choose to identify and express myself. Each day, with each piece of writing, I have an opportunity to spread love and kindness, to support and sustain relationships in positive ways, and to be the best I can be as I navigate this rich human experience. In the dark or in the light, I am a writer. I will always put love first, and fiercely protect my dignity and integrity with my head held high (even if my eyes are weeping).
Having tried and failed over and over again to write and finally, now, having the courage to share it, I know that these truths will be challenged if I continue to write and share what I write. I want to express my truths so that whatever comes, I know what I believe, and you know what I believe. It will help me remember who I am if I say it out loud. It will help me speak, write, and live in these truths as part of our diverse community of humans. To peace and love.
Summer RecapBeaches and movies and mentors, oh my! This was one of the zooming-est summers to ever fly by! I’m not sure what happened to August, but it felt like it lasted for about three blinks. But oh, our summer has been grand. The Suede team shot a feature film in the early part of the summer. The Shields clan was part of the creative team, including Jett who was a production assistant (and had a small role as an actor!). It was an incredible shoot! Following that, Jett worked on the feature film set for ‘Vampire Zombies from Space‘, (click on their Instagram link for some very cool images!) as a very scary zombie and production assistant. Miller was thriving as a babysitter and travel companion with yours truly. We were grateful to have many days spent on beaches with dear friends and heart-family.
Miller reading at The Gathering Place B&B, Pelee Island
Jett in zombie prep for the film ‘Vampire Zombies from Space’
Lake Erie, Pelee Island
Colchester Beach
Rondeau Park
Rondeau Park
Rondeau Park, morning write
Books I’m reading/have read
On Set for Suede Feature Film
Jane Christmas and I, Mentor/Mentee, London, ON
Me and Mariette, beach day!
Beach reading
Me and Carly Butler Verheyan, after our writing workshop
Miller and I laughing on a hammock
Pelee meTRYING SOMETHING NEWUsually, when fall starts poking her golden face over the horizon, I get this sadness gripping my belly. I love the summer and I never want it to end! But, I’ve promised myself to be more in union with the shifting of the seasons, and so instead of dreading the naked trees and cold temperatures, I’m focusing on the miracles of natural change and the growth that continues in the deeps.
There are many exciting events and workshops I’ll be a part of this fall. Fun things happening at Gertrude’s Writing Room and for Poet Laureate. And I’ll be enjoying not shaving my legs or armpits until April 2023. Heee!
I will be more active here…sharing thoughts and musings. I need to share on this platform, in this space to help keep my spirits up.
And so…here we go! Skipping into a new season…navigating emotions…and doing my best to stand strong in my truths.
June 1, 2022
ALL THE THINGS
Each day is a list to climb. Mostly mountainous. Time is full…and so is my brain and my belly and my dreams. I stop working on the computer and take a walk to get out of my head and fingertips…to engage my legs and skin in an activity with nature. I fall into bed sometimes still vibrating and unable to sleep or already in dreamland by the time my head hits the pillow. I spray the sheets with essential oils to hold me in place: bergamot, ylang ylang, lemon…Peri-menopause is a monster I’m facing more and more. Whose body is this? Whose face? This hair? Nuh-uh. I don’t recognize the face, the body in the reflections…yet I write on.
Workshops with high school students. Classes with poets and flowers. Poetry in witness and relief. These are the things I’m doing. All the things wrap tenderly around creative output. Even laying on the sofa with the family, the dogs, watching Stranger Things, season 4, or The Offer…or Better Things…all of it nudges or slams with creativity. It is an honour to be a creative…among other creatives…
The words are choppy today. Fitting. I’m dragging strips and pages into my new poet laureate website…trying to figure out blogs and easier ways to handle social media…that my intuition poo-poos at every turn. Is it necessary? Important? What are the losses if I escape from that form of communication? Is it okay to request only email or phone communication? What is this guilt, this slippery fear of misconnection?
The desire to do nothing but read for pleasure is sliced off like a limb under a sword. I keep telling myself…soon…soon. Thing is, I’m in charge of soon. Of never reaching it. Of taking hold.
I turned 44. This is a good number. Meaningful. We ate delicious food. We watched Top Gun Maverick at the theatre…that dream to meet Mr. Cruise shot up like an F-18 in a dog fight maneuver. We looked through photos of my labour for Jett – he turned 16. We share the same day of birth…We counted down the hours, minutes of his delivery and I remembered when he was placed on my chest, our hearts heaving…
It’s taking me longer to respond to emails, to comments, to likes…I’m feeling guilty, frustrated. There’s so much to acknowledge…inside and out. All the things are taking just a big longer….it’s okay. It’s a new flow, right?
It’s spring, but the summer heat is flexing. I love it. Boob sweat be welcomed!
All the things…the navigation…the holding and the letting go…the kindness up against the cruelty…choose kindness….
Outside my window, a beautiful dog, some kind of doodle, was being walked, and then – it stopped. Sat. Waited. Its owner sat down beside it, gave it some love…What a vision – stop, sit, exchange some love. Indeed, all the things are laced with love.
Can I write you a poem?
If you’re coming to Art in the Park this weekend at Willistead, do stop by the writing room! There’ll be poetry and fun stuff for sale.
Here’s all the Art in the Park INFO – ticket costs, hours, vendors…
See you there!
JUNE IS PRIDE MONTH – SPREAD THE LOVEWhat is done in love is done well.
Vincent Van Gogh
May 20, 2022
Guest Writer Interview Part II w/ Robert Earl Stewart
Robert Earl Stewart, author of The Running-Shaped Hole A Memoir (Dundurn, 2022)And we’re back on track! (Running joke.)Please enjoy part two of our ten-question interview! In case you missed the first part, here it is!
VS: I can feel as I read your book, the exposition of your relationship with your body. Obviously that was (is) a driving force in your sustained recovery/sobriety, but also in maintaining your healthy relationship with food (even though the desire for it is always there!), and in your relationships with others, especially your family. The way you describe yourself…begins with vivid self-deprecation, but you are actually in a space, nearly naked, and you go swimming; pg. 43, “I felt extremely self-conscious in the few frantic moments before I lowered myself into the pool after gingerly crossing the deadly wet terrazzo of the pool deck, exposed in my corpulence like a gluttonous fawn crossing an open field.” And then here, in the way you began to understand the manifestations playing out in your body, pg.89, “They were all physical manifestations of my body being out of step with my mind, the very core of my being signallings its desperate discomfort with the physical form I was taking, and how it was ruining my life…” And here, where you come outright and face your shame about your body, pg. 98, “…I was terrified of being seen myself. That same fear that kept me away from the kids’ school so their friends and peers, their teachers, and other parents wouldn’t see what an enormous anchor on the emotional well-being of my children I had become kept me running under cover of darkness for several months….The shame I felt about my physical appearance and how it was affecting my relationships with my children was enough without the eyes and judgment of the neighbourhood upon me.” Your open sharing about how you feel in your body, literally and metaphorically, how you perceive others perceiving you, and eventually how the whole attention to what others think dissipates as your spiritual interiority strengthens, is an extraordinary discovery. I don’t know the stats, but I bet they exist and show that women write and share these stories about their weight, their body shame, their interior empowerment as they bring their body into a healthier state, like, 90% more than men write and share. Two part question: 1) How important is your relationship with your body on a daily basis (like, how does this importance show up as ‘choices’?)?, and 2) as more people read and respond to your book, are you noticing that the narrative of body image/relationship of a ‘man’ is something they’re responding to?
RES: I’ve always been very conscious about The Running-Shaped Hole being as body-image positive as possible, because running is a very body-image positive sport.
Despite what anyone says, there is no ideal body type for runners.
Some of the most accomplished runners I know are larger people — people who don’t fit the stereotypical, elite athlete body type that is so toxic and based in very baby boomer-esque waist-size and Body Mass Index norms, which are essentially body shaming techniques couched in Good Housekeeping language. That being said, I am horribly self-conscious and critical of my own body in a very quiet, private way. I am not striving for perfection because I don’t believe in that. I just want to be comfortable. And some days I am there, and some days I am not. I track my food on an app and weigh myself every morning and record the weight in the app and on a pad of paper in our linen cupboard.
If anything, it has made me aware that progress and change are not linear. It is more expansive and chaotic.
It can be very frustrating, and when I am frustrated I want to eat because this is what makes me feel in control. But that control is an illusion. Quite clearly, this is a very insidious loop. I can be acutely aware of it and totally powerless over it in the same moment.
As far as reader response goes, people have been reaching out from all over the world, really. Some want to talk about the frustrations and meditative aspects of running, some want to talk about faith and spirituality (which is a big component of the book), some want to talk about alcoholism and recovery (another big part of the book), and some want to talk about weight and food. If my story strikes people as remarkable because it is a man being vulnerable and honest about his body, his faith, his flaws… I think that says a lot about how we raise boys and how we treat the emotional lives of men in our culture. But it is also a bellwether of troubling trends in publishing.
My agent, Sam Hiyate, says one of the reasons he wanted to represent me and my work is because he believes very strongly that men’s stories still matter at a time when there are numerous editorials and think pieces declaring the irrelevancy of male voices in publishing.
VS: Full-disclosure: I had to look up the word hubris. I mean, I had a sense of what the word meant, but to be sure, I looked it up. It means: excessive pride or self-confidence and also, (in Greek tragedy) excessive pride toward or defiance of the gods, leading to nemesis. (Thank you, Oxford.) I’m glad I looked up the meaning. I’m glad I read the second sentence too. Two of the major shifts that you experience during this life-changing process (and perhaps continue to experience!), are directly related to your ‘hubris’ – one is on a level with God. Not necessarily the Greek gods, but that spiritual connection is very alive. Can you talk about your relationship with “the God of my [your] understanding” at this point? Post-book release and launch? And, indeed, if there is any ‘nemesis’ action happening? Another level of your hubris is definitely on a level with pride and confidence. Do you think that being a writer (or an artist, if I may?) affects our hubris…or maybe can affect our hubris with more…expansion because of the nature of the system with its foundations on competition and distribution and stats and awards…?
RES: There was a point in my life when faith, spirituality, God, church, and religion were all very much confused in my head. I go into some detail in straightening this all out in the book, but suffice to say they are all different things, and what I can say is that while I believe in God, and have faith, it is free of the dogma and polemics of religion. I can also say I’m not as overtly opposed to religion as I once was, though my professed atheism opposition was a façade; fraudulent social posturing that I engaged in out of fear, intellectual pride, and alcoholic hubris (there’s that word again). I was defying gods I claimed not to believe in. Pretty sick and delusional shit. Anyway, where I am going with this is occasionally, maybe twice a year, I will go to church with my wife and children, who are all Catholic. And what I do is listen intently. I try to be open to the message. And one thing I picked up on, after years of being very closed off to this, is that there is one point in the mass where the priest will literally raise his arms and sing “The mystery of faith!” and once I was sober and heard that, I remember thinking, “That’s fucking it right there!” That’s what I like about faith and that’s why it’s so freeing compared to the prideful posturing and overtures to certainty and empiricism that come from a slavish preoccupation with reason and critical thinking, and this boastful, bigoted atheism that bewitches and plagues so many people
… faith is a mystery! There is no evidence or proof required. To look for those things is to miss the point so disastrously as to all but prove that any claims to reason and critical thinking are themselves sheer hubris — excessively prideful and arrogant.
The classic story of hubris is that of Icarus and Daedalus attempting to escape their prison on Crete on wings made of wax and feathers and flying too close to the sun despite knowing that it would spell certain doom. This is basically what writing is. It’s good that there are some accolades to go around, because there is certainly very little money.
When I was very little I told my parents I wanted to be a clown that made balloon animals. That was my first stated ambition. I don’t think I’ve missed the mark by very much.
I try not to think much beyond the day at hand. I seems to be working, though I could probably be convinced that somehow this is defying the gods, too.
VS: What creative project are you working on now?
RES: I started writing a novel in 2001. It is about newspapers, illegal prize fighting, art heists, Indian food, the perch fishery, private detectives, parallel identity crisis, and rock and roll. It’s very much rooted in Windsor and Detroit, but it also visits locales like Montreal, St. Petersburg (Russia), the Mojave desert, and the Gulf Coast of Texas. There are those who have assured me, without reading it, that it’s probably done. I can assure them that as much as I wish it was, it is not. Two books of poetry, a memoir, a lot of running, a 15-year career in newspapers, and a stint as a bookseller have intervened. Being a husband and father does not intervene or distract from writing, but rather bolsters and supports writing.
VS: Do you believe in true love? If I go by the way you write about your wife, to me, the answer to this is a resounding YES! Love…self-love, love for your wife, your parents, your children – it’s the core of this book, I believe. Can you wax on how these different streams of love helped shape you into the man you are today?
RES: Well, I was raised in a very loving and gentle home. My childhood was magical. I would change nothing. I think if you are raised in a home like that, you cannot help but believe in true love because that’s the default setting. My parents modelled an enduring love and respect for each other that I can only strive to live up to in my own marriage. Jennifer and I have been married for 22 years and have three children who as of this writing are 19, 16 and 15. They are all I have and I like it that way. We are all homebodies. We sing songs to our pets and narrate things in the house with grandiose musical numbers where everyone is singing, sometimes simultaneously. I am very blessed. Particularly because I suspect it must be very challenging to be married to a writer, let alone a writer who is a recovered alcoholic. I know how imperfect I am. I know how polarizing I can be. I lost my job as a bookseller in 2017 and have very little hope of ever working a traditional job again given my age and the current marketplace.
So, yes — I am very lucky to be loved.
Several people have approached me and have been very hesitant and apologetic in their explaining to me that upon reading the book they realized that it is Jennifer who is the true hero of The Running-Shaped Hole, and my response is always, “Yes, I know. No need to apologize.” I’m left wondering if they have somehow misinterpreted, or think I am somehow unaware, of the rest of the book where I am continually getting in my own way and making situations worse by opening my mouth or simply acting on impulse and proceed to whip myself for it. I am well aware that if the book has an antagonist — or even a villain — it is me.
VS: Finally, you describe the running-shaped hole (with full credit given to Martin Deck for the term, and a fabulous nod to Pascal) as: pg. 109 “….a spiritual experience. Finding, occupying, and filling the running-shaped hole, for me, is just that: a spiritual experience. It makes me more tolerant and accepting of myself. It subdues my self-consciousness and self-loathing. I become more open to the contradictory nature of my character and find some measure of peace in the fact that progress, for me, isn’t always a linear path toward immediate grace, generosity and perfection.” How is your running-shaped hole these days? And, do you think that your running-shaped hole can shift into a swimming-shaped hole or a cycling-shaped hole if your body needs it to?
RES: The running-shaped hole is the spiritual void in my life that I can confront and solve only through running. But it’s important to see it not as some kind of finite, one-time fix, but rather as something that has to be tended on a day-to-day or run-to-run basis.
Running for me is a form of meditation, and in order to have success with it I have to approach it with a spirit of curiosity and adventure. For today, I am a runner.
If it ever shifted to anything out of some necessity it would probably revert back to walking, which is where it started. Though, I’ve always been curious about racquetball.
Hazzaah! Thank you, Bob!
I do hope you’ve enjoyed our conversation. I sure enjoyed asking the questions and reading the answers. I laughed. I cried. And, perhaps most importantly, I was, and continue to be inspired by Bob, his story, his vulnerable sharing and dedicated to his running-shaped-hole. (I’ve also gone on four runs now, and am feeling more and more confident that running will be a healthy habit in my life once again! Thank you, Bob!)
To buy The Running-Shaped Hole by Robert Earl Stewart, click HERE.
To download/listen to Bob’s running playlist on youtube, click HERE.
To download/listen to Bob’s running playlist on spotify, click HERE.
To listen the audio version of The Running-Shaped Hole, click HERE.
Follow Bob Here:
May 16, 2022
Guest Interview w/ Robert Earl Stewart
Robert (Bob) Earl Stewart and his new book, The Running-Shaped HoleWelcome friends to another edition of featured guest writers on my blog! This edition welcomes Windsorite Robert Earl Stewart, and we’re celebrating the publication of his new memoir, The Running-Shaped Hole (Dundurn, February 2022). I’ve known Bob (that’s what I call him!) for many years now. First as a poet and teacher, then as a book seller, and now as a memoirist and runner (though we haven’t gone for a run…yet!). It’s been incredible getting to know Bob over the years through his writing and literary presence in the community, but this book…well, this one tore him open and he let’s us in to the deep layers of his body, mind and heart. I was eager to read his book. I read in just a few sittings. And, of course, I just had to ask him if he was up for an email interview. He said yes! So, here we go!
VS: What you’ve done with ‘The Running-Shaped Hole’ is remarkable in terms of the depths to which you were (are) willing to bare your ‘selves’.
I write ‘selves’ on purpose, because I you take us into the voices/parts of your hole (if you will) self in an effort to show how the combinations of these parts (father, alcoholic, husband, son, friend, journalist, poet, writer, runner…recover-er…) are cultivated into the being human that you are…and that you may shift, slide, fall into as time progresses.
This is a book about running. For example, I know where to go in Windsor if I want to learn to train/run. I know the different ways one can participate in the Detroit Marathon. I know what accouterments to use when running to keep my body hydrated, salted and unchafe-ed! That liquid concoction you created to keep your body on track when running sounds very gross, but clearly works! I definitely agree that the best running shoes for running are New Balance, at least for my feet! And, perhaps most importantly, as I was reading…the super lapsed runner that I am*…I felt the old urge to get out there and run, wake up and do a stretch.
*In fact, since reading Bob’s book I have been inspired to start running again. I’ve run three times since I finished reading his book. I haven’t run in the hole yet…but it’s coming! Thank you, Bob!
This is a book about running. Metaphorically, so much running is happening too. Running away from reality, from healthy choices, from grief, from rage/anger, from old habits, from pain, from embarrassment, from the kitchen…from the bar…And running into your ‘self’ through the tremendous running-shaped hole of a door! We, the readers, have the opportunity to run with you in these regards, and can, if we are willing to enter the ‘running shaped-holes’ in our own lives, begin to stop, pay attention, ask for and get help, and make changes for the better.
Can you give us a comparative timeline of the major plot points in your recovery and the writing of this book? I believe that the writing part came well into your recovery. I think it’d be cool to see the process of book-writing up against the process of self-healing/running.
RES: I got sober in April 2003. I had spent years hanging out in bars and at parties telling people I was a writer despite having very little creative output and no writing credits outside of newspaper bylines. I was very much caught up in that delusion of the drinking life being what made me creative and interesting; that through drinking the writing would come. I was just over a year sober when I wrote my first poem.
That’s not a coincidence. Sobriety had to (and must always) come first.
I was six years sober when my first collection of poetry was published in 2009, with a second collection published in 2011. But even though things seemed to be trending in the right direction writing-wise as a direct result of my sobriety, I was unwilling to let go of my diseased relationship with food.
When I was finally sick and scared enough to change my eating and sedentary lifestyle in late 2012, leading to a spontaneous episode of running in February 2013, it jarred loose another creative period, or cleared up space to be creative again, helping me get some distance from the depression, self-loathing, and self-consciousness that plagued me when I weighed nearly 400 pounds.
The Running-Shaped Hole started as the running journal I was urged to keep by some friends at a learn-to-run clinic. I was commissioned to write the book in 2014 and four months later quit my job as the editor of a newspaper to focus on the project. The same week I quit my job, and at 11 years sober, I was charged with assault as the result of a neighbourhood conflagration I go into in excruciating detail in the book. This prohibited me from running the Detroit Free Press Marathon, which was supposed to be the centrepiece of the book, so very suddenly the book was heading in a new direction.
The same person who originally commissioned me to write the book then also hired me to manage their bookstore, which was more demanding of my time than I expected and took me away from both writing and running… So, the course of the stories that make up the narrative of the book was literally changing as the book was being written. I think this caused some problems with that original publisher and through a series of events, none of them very pleasant, I terminated the contract with that publisher and the book eventually (and very happily) found a home with a new publisher, Dundurn Press. It is very much a “we make the path by running”-kind-of-thing, and most importantly, I maintained my sobriety throughout. Two weeks after the Windsor launch party for the book, I celebrated 19 years of sobriety.
VS: In this moment, what is your relationship with running? How many times a week do you run? How far? How is your body feeling?
RES: I run pretty much every other day. I am not unwavering and intractable about it. I figure at this point in my life, approaching 50, it’s a pretty amazing and healthful thing that I am running at all, so I am flexible with my running schedule, though it works out to pretty much every other day. I aim for 120 kilometres per month in the colder months, building to closer to 180 kilometres per month in the summer.
My body feels better when it is running than when it is not. The aches and pains that, if I let them, could keep me from running, disappear a few kilometres into a run, lubricated and endorphined right out of my consciousness.
There was a time when I was largely immobile, unable to pick myself up off the floor without help, when breathing and talking was difficult, so I am more than willing to put up with some running-based soreness. I stretch. I take Ibuprofen as needed. I’ve learned to tell the difference between expected and acceptable soreness and injury. Being stiff and sore after a long run can actually be very affirming. Injuries, on the other hand, which are usually more physiognomic and mechanical, will mess with your head as much as your body. I’ve learned the hard way not to over-train. I would rather be under-trained and happy than over-trained and miserable.
VS: What are those wicked cool earphone/bud/headband thingies I saw you wearing?! I believe in the beginning, in the walking phase of your physical fitness, you weren’t listening to music. At what point did you feel the need to start listening to music (or whatever you listen to…podcasts? Audio books?) when you run? And, care to share your favourite running tunes; perhaps warm-up, mid-run, warm-down? Is this how you build your song lists? And, do you ever create a playlist based on where you’re running and the ‘visual stimulus’ you’re experiencing?
RES: Listening to music while running is definitely a recent development. Music has always been a very big part of my life. I listen to music all the time while reading and writing. But when I started running, I found I was made very anxious by having my ears blocked by earbuds. I felt I couldn’t hear traffic, other pedestrians, cyclists, etc. It was a safety issue. Plus, the earbuds never stayed in place and I was always frustrated and fussing with them, so I made running a time when I didn’t need to be listening to music. Then a friend introduced me to Aftershokz skull conducting headphones. They wrap behind your head and over top of your ears and rest on your temporal mandibular joint and use the resonance of your skull to deliver sound to your inner ear, leaving your ear canal open to the world around you.
So, I started listening to music — and occasionally podcasts and baseball games — while running. The music I listen to when running has nothing to do with pace/performance. It is all about vibe and mood.
I can listen to tripped out contemporary jazz as easily as I can listen to a Jesus Lizard album. I curated a playlist to coincide with the launch of the book and Dundurn Press shared it via their socials — it’s called The Running-Shaped Playlist and it’s two hours of music from bands like My Bloody Valentine, Animal Collective, Soul Coughing, Fugazi, LCD Soundsystem, Black Flag, Spiritualized… There is this yearning, nostalgic vibe to a lot of what’s there. It’s as if it’s the soundtrack to a running montage sequence in a non-existent film based in New York City. It’s searchable on Spotify and YouTube music.
Wanna listen to Bob’s playlist?
CLICK HERE for YOUTUBE VERSION
CLICK HERE FOR SPOTIFY VERSION
VS: Can we talk about loneliness? On page 11, you write: “But just as I lay in bed in April 2003, ill and isolated and feeling utterly hopeless as a result of my alcoholism –despite having a wife who loved me and was worried sick about me; a wife who went off each morning earning the entire family income single-handedly, while our seven-month-old was shipped off to a babysitter we couldn’t afford because I didn’t feel like I could properly take care of him – wasn’t until I got to this terminally low point of fighting the maniacal compulsion to eat that I was able to realize that I had been wrong about almost everything aspect of my life up to that moment.” Oof. That’s a packed bit of vulnerability! And here on pg. 146/7, “But I was ruminating on the things runners typically think about while they are running: pain, fatigue, thirst, hunger, home, bed, work, pressing family business, old boredom, and boredom’s creeping terminal state: loneliness. In the end, running or not, it’s always the loneliness…I was deep into a one-man half-marathon, and I was just plain old sad and lonely and missing my wife and kids….But in between my call and actually seeing Jennifer and the kids, I’d hit that wall of loneliness. Even though I knew I would see them at the rendezvous point, I had felt worried, as if I would not.” There are two major things I notice here: 1) your wife and kids and 2) the place of loneliness and its insistence in our lives. Can you tell us how your relationship with loneliness has evolved? Do you think it’s something that will ever go away? Do you think it exists within us for a reason…perhaps to be the metronome to our ability to love?
RES: I think everyone understands the difference between being alone and loneliness. As a writer and a reader, I crave the first one — being left alone to do what I want, with the ability to at any time stand up from my desk and go downstairs where my wife and three teenaged children are probably doing fun stuff and being able to join in or just be around them. As a person who suffers from depression and who spent several years actively (though strangely unwittingly) driving the people I loved and the people who loved me out of my life with my drinking, I understand the existential dread of loneliness. But even with a loving family and many friends and even varied interests to occupy my mind and time, I don’t think the specter of loneliness every goes away.
You can be surrounded by people who love you and be utterly lost in loneliness, which is why I always try to be of service to others who are struggling. The experience of loneliness keeps me mindful of the fact that I am able to help others, and that I owe it to my recovery to do so.
VS: The Moon in June. I ran this race once. I had trained…meaning I’d run 11km once, weeks before the actual race. I went alone. I knew no one upon arrival, and as the runners passed me…and the walkers passed me…and a mother pushing a set of twins in a double-wide, supped-up stroller passed me, I too was the final runner to cross the finish line…that, by the way, was literally being pulled off the well-trampled lawn as I was sprinting down the ghost-shute. The kindly man put it back down so I could run over it, but the timer was off. Who knows what my finish time stat was…besides awful and utterly humiliating. Mostly because the only person who shared the finish with me was the dude trying to put it away. Long beginning to a short question: do you think it’s important/a rite of passage to get a last place finish in a race?
RES: No, I don’t think last place finishes are necessary for or important to later success. But I should probably point out that I don’t think “success” is all that important, either. Statistically, last place finishes are very rare — as singularly rare as the first-place finish. For most runners, neither will happen. The most likely result of any given road or trail race is that the runner finishes in what would broadly be called “the middle of the pack.” It doesn’t mean you don’t strive to have the best run you can on race day, but the podium cannot be the sole objective, just as objectively I don’t think anyone relishes finishing last.
By the time I was finishing last in that Moon in June race in 2013, running had taught me enough about realistic expectation and humility that the petty jealousies of competition were far outweighed by just finishing the race, regardless of pace or place.
The person I am competing against every time I run is me. I am the obstacle; I am the nemesis. The finish line and the chip time are simply a way for everyone else to organize their thoughts about what just happened.
To purchase Bob’s book from Dundurn, please CLICK HERE.
It is also available at your local independent bookstores…and Indigo too!
Stay tuned for part two of our 10-question interview later this week!
But first – here’s Bob’s socials so you can stay connected!
And, here’s a review of his book on Quill & Quire.
Thanks, y’all! Thanks, Bob!
May 15, 2022
First Poem, First Week – Life of a Poet Laureate!
What a week…On Monday, May 9th, 2022 at about 4:45pm, the news of my new role as Poet Laureate became official. By 5pm, my socials were on fire as was my inbox. I couldn’t keep up with the incoming messages of joy and congratulations! (This is not my ego talking, but my bursting heart!) I am still responding to friends and family’s kind words of encouragement and excitement. I am so filled with gratefulness.
On Tuesday morning, I was interviewed by the fine folks at CBC Windsor Morning. On Tuesday, I started teaching the Poetry of Flowers class. On Wednesday and Thursday I visited two elementary schools to talk about poetry. On Friday, I was interviewed along with the Teajai Travis, the Multicultural Storyteller and Theresa Simms, the Indigenous Storyteller, by Dan MacDonald on the Dan MacDonald show on AM800. Wednesday night, we celebrated Christopher Lawrence Menard’s book launch for his poetry collection, at the end, beginnings – he was in great health and spirits! On Thursday, we celebrated the launch of Margo Wheaton’s new poetry book, Rags of Night in Our Mouths via zoom. On Saturday, we had an incredible Poetry Circle, featuring Christopher Lawrence Menard. And in between, I met with writers to work on their fascinating and exciting writing projects – as editor, mama is working all the time! Come Saturday at 12:30pm, when the week’s events had come to an inspired end…I was wild with the need to stop and rest, to reflect, to let it all sink in deep, deep, deeper.
A visual journey of the week…!
Margo’s Book Launch
Official sign! Office of the Poet Laureate!
Poetry Circle
Poetry of Flowers Class
Reading at Giles Campus
Poetry at Glenwood PublicThroughout the week, there were times when I was so exhausted I dry-sobbed. I experienced bouts of heat-inducing (mostly boob sweat) ecstatic energy when I realized for those several seconds: I am a Poet Laureate. Me! Whaaaaaat?! It is an extraordinary experience living a dream. A dream that I’ve had for many years. A dream that got very close during the application process and the interview process…that was swinging from my heart – forward-and-back, forward-and-back for weeks and weeks. Oh, the plans I made! And then – it happened! The dream did a full triple flip off my heart, landing perfectly in my soul with a soft thud – you are it, Vanessa!
Now…I’m makings lists of initiatives. I’m sending connection emails and messages. I’m staring at my schedule and deciding which days to dedicate to writing poetry in the community. I’m wondering how the heck I’m gonna manage this blog, plus my socials, plus the new poet laureate website I’m making…and how to share it all with you! These are incredible challenges, I know. I know!
And so…here we go! This is it! This is happening! I am learning. I am scared. I am ecstatic. I am thrilled. I am Poet Laureate!
This week, on the docket: meetings, full-day poetry workshop at Assumption High School (the high school I went to!), the Windsor Endowment for the Arts grants and Mayor’s Award event on Friday, and on Saturday, my first official City of Windsor event as Poet Laureate as part of the 130th birthday celebration for Windsor. Oh, and finish my website! Ack!
Thank you for all your support, friends. I really, truly, absolutely am grateful!
Look at us! From left, Poet Laureate Emeritus, Marty Gervais, Me, Indigenous Storyteller, Theresa Simms, Multicultural Storyteller, Teajai Travis, and Youth Poet Laureate, Alexei Ungurenaşu. Photo by Ted Kloske.
May 9, 2022
MEGA ANNOUNCEMENT! THE NEW POET LAUREATE OF WINDSOR…
WE DID IT!I am just beside myself with joy and love and excitement for this grand role I have been given the honour of taking on! For the next four years, I will be your humble Poet Laureate of Windsor! I am following in the fine footsteps of Mary Ann Mulhern, Windsor’s second Poet Laureate, and will be working and writing with Poet Laureate Emeritus Marty Gervais, and Youth Poet Laureate Alexei Alexei Ungurenaşu. *PLUS* The City of Windsor has added two new ambassadorial roles: Multicultural Storyteller and Indigenous Storyteller. The inaugural storytellers are Teajai Travis, Multicultural Storyteller, and Theresa Simms, Indigenous Storyteller – both of whom have been engaging our community with stories for decades! Together we are a force of creative love in community outreach!
I have been dreaming about what this opportunity would be like…and now it’s here and my tummy is a butterfly colony on hatch day! My mind is zipping with logistics and lists and schedules. My heart has grown in size to accommodate the outpouring in poetry it will do…and I cry about forty times a day, overwhelmed with the gift that is poetry in our lives, in my life.
I am putting the finishing touches on new website dedicated to my Poet Laureate adventures. I’m having loads of fun making stickers, business cards, postcards and other fine swag for this role. You know it’s not real until you have a sticker that says it is! Here are some…
Change is here. I’ve been twirling around in a limbo since my interview for this glorious position in early April. The future was…unclear. But now…oh baby! The path is poetry, my friends! More poetry! More engagement! More community love! How this will play out is forthcoming. I can pretty much guarantee that my schedule is gonna get super wild. I’m ready! I’ll keep you updated on all the details!
Thank you to the City of Windsor for bestowing me with the incredible honour. Thank you to all the friends/writers/poets who wrote support letters for my application, and those who continue to support me in the joys and struggles of daily life as a mother, writer, lover…and now Poet Laureate!
A Week of Literary Bliss!
Hello friends! It’s been a few days since my last post…took a little break to rest and reflect and to begin getting back into things that the dragging-on-of-winter was making difficult! But I’m feeling good in body, mind and spirit. The warm temperatures, chatty birds, blooming flowers and budding trees are all helping tremendously! And, it seems like we’re slowly but surely getting back into gatherings for family events, celebrations and book launches! This week is stacked with literary happenings…
at the end, beginnings book launch WEDNESDAY, MAY 11, 2022Christopher Lawrence Menard is celebrating the publication of his first collection of poetry, at the end, beginnings (Black Moss Press) this Wednesday at the Kordazone theatre (KordaZone Theater, 2520 Seminole Street, Windsor, ON N8Y 1X4) beginning at 7pm. This is a very special event as Christopher was unable to attend the co-launch of his book with Terry Ann Carter in April because he was ill. He’s in tip-top shape now and I know, is thrilled to be able to have this launch to read and share and sell and sign his new book.
This is an in-person event and needs registration via eventbrite as seating is limited. Please click ON THIS LINK to register. See you there!
Or visit the FACEBOOK EVENT PAGE.
Margo Wheaton *Virtual* book launch: Rags of Night in our Mouths – Thursday, May 12, 2022You may remember Margo from the reading we shared last fall when we talked about writing and family and poetry. Margo’s second book is hot off the McGill-Queen’s University Press! Her book is called: rags of night in our mouths. She is celebrating her book along with three fellow MGUP authors via a zoom launch on Thursday evening. The event starts promptly at 6:30pm our time.
This virtual event needs registration in order to get the Zoom link. Please CLICK HERE TO REGISTER.
Books are for sale HERE.
Margo is also teaching an on-line poetry workshop through the Writers Federation of Nova Scotia. The title is: Landscape as Muse: A Poetry Workshop (virtual) with Margo Wheaton. Here are the details: (It starts this week!)
Spring is the perfect time to reconnect with the natural world and invigorate your writing practice! Through a blend of targeted group discussions, short required readings, and indoor and outdoor writing exercises, this workshop will provide practical tools, techniques, and inspiration for writing with passion about a landscape as a living, breathing, and changing entity.
Each session also features a conversation with an invited guest poet, who will share tips, insights, and writing strategies drawn from their own deep practice of nature-based writing. Guest writers include poet and essayist Brian Bartlett, poet and musician Allan Cooper, and poet and prose writer Basma Kavanagh.
About the instructor: Margo Wheaton lives in Kjipuktuk/Halifax and holds a Master’s degree In English and a Certificate in Adult Education, both from Dalhousie University. Her debut poetry collection, The Unlit Path Behind the House, won the Canadian Authors’ Association’s Fred Kerner Award for best book of the year and was shortlisted for the J.M. Abraham Award, The Gerald Lampert Award, the Fred Cogswell Award, and the Relit Award. She recently published Wild Green Light with author David Adams Richards. Rags of Night in Our Mouths, her next poetry collection, is forthcoming in spring of 2022 from McGill-Queen’s University Press.
Recommended experience level: Writers at all levels and stages are warmly invited to attend
Location: Zoom
Dates of 3-week workshop: Rescheduyle to Tuesdays, May 10 + May 17 + May 24, 2022 (7:00pm to 9:00pm Atlantic)
Non-member price: $174 (includes 2022 General Membership in WFNS)
Speaking of classes and workshops, we’re busy at the writing room with a Poetry of Flowers class beginning on Tuesday (and going for the next four Tuesdays!), and with a sold out Poetry Circle this upcoming Saturday. We’re featuring…Christopher Lawrence Menard! Yahoo!
Guest post Two-Part Interview with Robert Earl StewartAlso on deck is a two-part guest post featuring Robert Earl Stewart about his new memoir, The Running-Shaped Hole (Dundurn Press).
And…this happened…
Me, Margaret & DorothyI had an exciting time at this year’s Pelee Island Bird Observatory Annual Margaret Atwood dinner. After a delicious meal and a wild auction, we settled in to hear Margaret Atwood, David Lindo (The Urban Birder) and Lorna Crozier talk and read and share. It was a literary event I’ll always remember!
I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend! Happy Mother’s Day! I believe that Spring is here to stay! Yay!
April 30, 2022
#NPM22 The Intimacy of Cutting the Grass & The Intimacy of Writing Poems About Intimacy – Poetry Month Completion
The Intimacy of Cutting the Grass
Lines of poetry
Lines of cut lawn
Lines of emails
Lines of things I should have said
Lines of things I said…
One missed chunk of dog poop
Avoid it, then oops (Gross)
Vibrating arms legs bones
Thinking of exercise (Does this count?)
Thinking of the dirt beside the toilet (Clean that next)
Looking at the other lawns – perfect, perfect, perfect
Then dirt only, mud on rainy days
MGL signs shouting chemical smiles (Gross)
Wondering who was the jerk who decided
we needed ‘front lawns’ – not gardens
weeds to sway freely
Wondering when my tummy will
stop pushing down the waist
of all my pants wondering when I’ll
stop caring about my belly wondering
what parts of this poem I’m writing as I push
push push (Boob sweat)
I’ll remember when I sit down to write
naked toes fluorescent green under the table
The Intimacy of Writing Poems About Intimacy
breathing under water is getting easier
the deeper i swim into the currents of
each day though my fear of drowning
never ceases. i’ve learned that there is
an intimacy to every thing. a letting in.
a letting go. a space inside the spaces
& spaces inside those spaces & my
slippery silvery succulent sway of
self is mermaidesque in her desires
in her dreams in her knowings &
unknowings & i realize i never quite
feel normal – that the intimacy of
belonging is cell deep & terrifying &
also liberating & funny & intimacy is
all kinds of kinds skins bones tongues
words colours tastes – of the body
but also of the air earth water fire
also beyond language & time &
the wet of a giant orgasm that makes
me see stars & stars oh yes! and stars!
a curious deliverance of excavations
this intimate exchange over & over
30 POEMS! 30 DAYS! Thank you for joining me on another poem-a-day adventure! Reflections to come! Here are the final two poems for the month! Peace and love and poetry! Oh, and Happy Independent Bookstore day too!
April 28, 2022
#NPM22 -The Intimacy of Dreams & The Intimacy of Lists
The Intimacy of Dreams
After Paul Laurence Dunbar ‘Dreams’
Ah! Dreams
The thriving joys that
burst through seams
The jelly hearts that
current streams
The fairy wings that
carry beams
Of sun’s pure light &
all that gleams
Ah! Dreams
Fears untethered on display
To bask in peace – to play! To play!
To hold in smiles come what may
Ah! Dreams, so real – Today! Today!
Ah! Dreams
Belong to land & sky
So blossom start, then fly! Then fly!
Let hearts unfurl in gorgeous sigh –
When dreams may come – choose I! Choose I!
The Intimacy of Lists
Gathered in a column true
The list of things to do, to do
Stacking words in inky blue
Go here, do this – a lot or few
For when the day begins askew
& you don’t really have a clue
How you will ever make it through
Make a list and set anew
Each thing a member of a crew
Gliding in the day’s canoe
You must! You must! Enjoy the view!
As living dips & swaddles you
