In Stillness

                                                 

The last few weeks have certainly not been monotonous, but they have been quiet. That’s given me more time to write, to read, to walk and to think. It’s the kind of slower pace I usually associate with August. This year, though, we’re expecting lots of company in August, so I’m embracing a little solitude now.

Solitude and stillness are important to creativity. We know that intellectually – creatives generally need alone time to pursue their path. But what we tend to forget is that the stillness can also help us clear our minds and even inspire us. “In order to be open to creativity, one must have the capacity for the constructive use of solitude,” said Rollo May. “One must overcome the fear of being alone.”

A little time alone gives us a chance to think about what we’ve done artistically and where we might want to go; it helps us focus on our own priorities and our own voice; and in my case at least, it gives me a chance to appreciate some of the simpler things in life – losing myself in a good book, enjoying a delicious meal from the garden, and listening to the sound of the baby quail as they make their way along our back fence.

I hope you’re enjoying summer!

My June Reads

Summer has arrived here in the Pacific Northwest, bringing with it long days and a more relaxed pace. Over the next few months, I’ll be taking a little extra time away from the desk to reconnect with family and friends; to cycle and hike; and to do some day trips to the nearby Gulf Islands. But while I may not be as active on this blog, I’ll certainly be active in other ways. And while I’ll be stepping back from the computer a bit, I’ll still be reading. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

The White Hare by Jane Johnson

What the Dog Knows by Sylvia McNicoll

The Inner Work of Age: Shifting from Role to Soul by Connie Zweig

Books I’ve read to date in 2023: 33

             A Formidable Woman . . . A Powerful Tale

                                  

                                

On this day in 1811, Harriet Beecher Stowe was born. Stowe was the author of more than twenty books, including Uncle Tom’s Cabin which was published in 1852. The anti-slavery novel was the most popular novel of the 19th century, outselling the bible when it was published. It’s often called “the first bestseller” because there had been nothing like it in popular literature prior to its publication.    

The story is told through the eyes of Uncle Tom who saves the life of little Eva while being transported by boat to auction in New Orleans. Eva’s grateful father purchases Tom, and Eva and Tom become great friends. Always frail, Eva’s health begins to rapidly decline, and on her deathbed, she asks her father to free all his enslaved people. He makes plans to do so, but before he can act, he is killed.

Harriet Beecher Stowe and her husband were ardent critics of slavery and supported the Underground Railroad, temporarily housing fugitive slaves in their home in Brunswick, Maine. With the rise of the abolition movement came the demand for hard-hitting eyewitness accounts of the harsh realities of slavery. Uncle Tom’s Cabin provided that as Beecher Stowe based her novel on real-life situations. The book influenced many people’s thoughts about African Americans and slavery. It also strengthened the conflict between the Northern and Southern U.S., playing a significant role in rallying ordinary groups of people to fight for civil rights. So much so, in fact, that when President Lincoln met Beecher Stowe, he was quoted as saying, “So this is the little lady who made this big war.”

Uncle Tom’s Cabin was not without its critics. A significant number of people found the story itself racist and patronizing, saying it perpetuated stereotypes about black people. The character of ‘Uncle Tom’ – and the term Uncle Tom itself – has become synonymous with servility and self-hatred even today, though not everyone in the African-American community agrees. For an interesting take on the evolution of Uncle Tom and why the character has become something of a lightning rod in the black community, check out the transcript of this short NPR interview with Professor Patricia Turner.  https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93059468

Uncle Tom’s Cabin made its mark. More than 160 years after its publication, Uncle Tom’s Cabin has been translated into more than 70 languages and is known throughout the world.

Wild Magic

                                                          

‘Pure creativity is something better than necessity – it’s a gift – it’s the frosting. Our creativity is a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe.’  Elizabeth Gilbert

A few weeks ago, my neighbour emailed me a picture of the clematis blooming in her back garden. It normally produces purple flowers. But this year, and for no discernable reason, the vine is awash with pink and white striped blooms too.  It is, as Elizabeth Gilbert would say, a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe.

Around the same time my neighbour emailed me that picture, a writer friend emailed and said the ending she had in mind for her work in progress had taken a left turn. “The character took over and did something I never saw coming,” she said. “And the ending is so perfect it’s almost like magic.”

That’s pure creativity. Unpredictable, a little wild, and magical. It doesn’t matter whether we’re creating in the studio or at the keyboard, whether we’re in the garden or in the kitchen, there’s a kind of alchemy that happens if we listen to what we’re creating and let it have a say in what it wants to be. A touch of wild and wonderful magic that’s both humbling and awe-inspiring. And one that can bloom with beautiful results, just like my neighbour’s clematis.

Freedom to Rise

                                               

About three years ago we moved to a community with a high percentage of retirees. And even those people who haven’t retired talk excitedly about the day they’ll finish working and punching a clock.

The upside of an artistic life is having the freedom to set our own schedules. We are our own bosses. But distractions abound, those we create and those created by others, and those distractions can make it hard to maintain a creative routine. It’s taken me a few years of living here (and getting sidetracked more than I care to admit) to finally recognize that I do best with some structure in my life. That realization led me to think more carefully about structure – the role it plays in life and art, why we need it, and how we ignore it at our peril.

Structure is, by definition, something arranged in a specific pattern of organization. Its role is to contain or hold something so it’s not all over the place. Structure can act as a framework, or it can be an arrangement of parts, acting as a support or even protection.

A structure can be a skyscraper or a shed, our bodies, or a sentence. A rose needs the structure of a cane for support. Bread dough rises higher when it’s contained by the structure of a bowl or basket. Novels depend on structure to tell a story. A visual artist depends on the structure of the canvas to hold her medium. And many psychologists tell us that humans, particularly children, need structure and routine. While acknowledging that holidays and regular breaks are important for our health, they say a significant lack of structure on an ongoing basis can lead us to feel uncertain and unbalanced, even out of control.

That’s certainly been true for me.

Before we moved, my weekdays were fairly structured. I wrote every day, with the occasional Friday afternoon off. In gardening season, I’d write three or four days a week so I could get the garden in. I’d book weekday errands or appointments for my lunch hour so I could get back to my desk afterwards. While I wasn’t the most prolific writer, I was consistent and productive.

Moving to a small town 45 minutes from a hub city changed everything. I now needed several hours, sometimes half a day, if I had to drive in for weekday appointments. And though I made a few new friends who were creative types themselves and understood my need to protect my time, not everyone was accepting. Organized activities where I could network and meet new people frequently took place on weekdays. So, because I wanted to make connections, I made allowances. I found myself accommodating others and making appointments during prime writing time. My calendar began to fill with commitments. My routine was torpedoed. I began to feel unsettled. Uneasy. And I was disappointed, mostly in myself. Why, I wondered, couldn’t I juggle as well as I once did? I’d fit my writing around the schedules, activities, and demands of the kid for years and I loved having that flexibility. Why wasn’t it working for me now?

Because, I realized, the kids had something of a schedule – the school year – and I followed it. Now I was surrounded by people who had no structure to their days at all and were loving it.  I was trying to follow suit because I wanted to connect and make new friends but my writing was suffering. I was suffering.

The truth is I crave and need structure. It’s how I’m wired. Just as a bowl provides the support for bread dough to develop and rise, having structure in my own life gives my creativity the support it needs to expand, grow, and flourish. Structure helps me stay focused. It gives my life balance and that, in turn, makes me calm and happy.

So, while the people around me might love the fact that they’re no longer punching a clock, I’m going back to punching one. But it will be a clock of my own making. One that blocks off three (four if I’m lucky) writing days a week, and leaves the other two days free for family, friends and fun. And the occasional run into the city for a pesky appointment.  

Wish me luck.

My May Reads

                          

The irises are in full bloom, the Rhodos are putting on a show, and the peony buds are swollen and poised to open. Spring took its time getting here, but then it seemed to arrive almost overnight, bringing hotter-than-normal temperatures and a rush of garden-related tasks. Everything seemed to sprout at once, including the weeds. I’ve been busy pulling them out (not all of them; I love to harvest nettles for tea), spreading five yards of fish compost and getting all the seedlings into the ground. Luckily, I can work in the garden after dinner these days. Or at least I can until the mosquitos come out (they seemed to arrive overnight too!), but by the time they show up, I’m ready to come inside and pick up a good book. Here’s what I’m reading this month.  

All Signs Point to Paris by Natasha Sizlo

The Dog I Loved by Susan Wilson

He Said/She Said by Erin Kelly

Number of Books I’ve Read in 2023: 29

Eclipse Season

                                    

On May 5th, the first lunar eclipse of 2023 happens and will be visible from Antarctica, Africa, Asia, and Australia. Though we won’t see it in North America, scientists here are still talking about it because studying eclipses helps them learn about the moon, and the sun and how they influence life here on Earth.  

Friday’s event is a penumbral eclipse when the moon passes deep into the outer part of the Earth’s shadow (known as the penumbra). By scientific calculation, this is the deepest penumbral eclipse we’ll have until September 2042.

Eclipses, as you probably know, always come in pairs. Friday’s lunar eclipse finishes the cycle which started with a solar eclipse two weeks ago, on April 19th. People who love astronomy (and astrology too) call this time of year eclipse season because the alignments that cause the eclipses to happen take slightly more than a month to play out.

There are many myths about eclipses. The ancient Greeks believed that a solar eclipse was the sign of angry Gods and the beginning of death and destruction. On a more positive note, Italians still believe that flowers planted during a solar eclipse are brighter and more colourful than flowers planted at any other time of the year.

Lunar eclipse myths can be somewhat frightening, with many ancient cultures interpreting the moon’s eclipse as wreaking ‘havoc in the sky’ and believing that the same havoc was destined to happen on Earth. The Batammaliba people from Togo and Benin in Africa have a different, more optimistic take. Their ancient myth tells them that the sun and moon are fighting and that eclipses are a natural time to come together and resolve old feuds and anger.

Authors have also been inspired by eclipses, sometimes using them as important plot elements. Consider A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court by Mark Twain; Nightfall by Isaac Asimov; Dolores Claiborne by Stephen King; Eclipse and Shroud by John Banville. And for younger readers, Sunwing by Kenneth Oppel and Every Soul A Star by Wendy Mass both utilize eclipses.

To me, eclipses signal change and new beginnings, which happens to fit perfectly with the start of spring. Happy Eclipse season!

My April Reads

Spring is flirting with us this year. Today, as I write this, it’s cool and drizzly. Last week we had hail! This week, I’m only now harvesting wild nettles to eat fresh and to dry for tea, something I normally do in mid to late March. And here it is virtually the end of April. However, the forecasters are calling for a warming trend, so by the time you read this, I could be heading to the garden and leaving my books behind. In the meantime, though, here’s what I’m currently reading.

The Man Who Came and Went by Joe Stillman

Moon Gardening by Matt Jackson

The Great Reclamation by Rachel Heng

Books read to date in 2023: 24

Lean Into Discomfort

      

I’ve been practicing yoga for decades. But despite my long-time practice, there’s one asana I love to avoid: phalakasana or plank pose. In the studio or in any kind of structured class, I almost always opt for a modified plank. In my solitary practice, I skip plank altogether. I just don’t like it. And I never thought to question why. Until my yoga class last Thursday night.

The instructor flowed into plank pose early in our 90-minute practice, and I flowed into the pose right along with her. The reason I followed along, quite honestly, is mildly embarrassing: my body was on my mat but my mind was elsewhere, and by the time my mind caught up with my body I was probably 30 seconds into my plank asana. My arms were quivering, my abs were trembling, and my brain was protesting. I was uncomfortable. That’s when I realized I wasn’t trying to avoid plank. I was trying to avoid discomfort. And that had been my primary goal around plank asana for years.

Humans are hardwired to avoid discomfort. And two US researchers say it does us no favours. Kaitlin Woolley (Cornell University) and Ayelet Fishbach (University of Chicago) conducted a study of 2100 people engaged in personal growth activities – anything from taking improv classes or music lessons to learning about COVID-19, gun violence or opposing political viewpoints.   

The participants were split into two groups. Some participants were told that their goal was to feel uncomfortable and (depending on the activity) awkward, nervous, anxious, or even upset. They were told to push on and accept that discomfort as a sign that the activity was working. Other participants weren’t told to embrace discomfort; instead, they simply focused on learning something or noticing if the exercise was working and how they were developing their skills.

Ultimately, the researchers found that the participants who aimed to be more uncomfortable were more engaged in their activities, felt more motivated to keep doing them, and believed they’d made more progress toward their goals compared to those who weren’t accepting their vulnerability.  

Discomfort, according to Harvard-trained psychologist Susan David, is our price of admission for a meaningful life. It’s almost always there whenever we try something new, whether that’s a new job, a new art form, or a new language. Whether it’s having a difficult conversation with a friend or challenging some of our long-held beliefs. Embracing discomfort requires emotional courage.

In the big picture of life, the fact that I went out of my way to avoid doing a plank is a small thing. But the fact that I avoided the plank to avoid discomfort isn’t so small. Discomfort is a wise teacher. Tolerating and embracing it helps us grow. And honestly, if I’d leaned into and accepted my discomfort long ago, I almost certainly would have grown through my discomfort and be doing a reasonable (and reasonably pain-free) phalakasana by now.

Then I could have turned my attention elsewhere. Discomfort, thy name is sirshasana.  

Canada Reads 2023

                               

Canada Reads, organized and broadcast by the CBC, is an annual ‘battle of the books’ competition that’s been running since 2002. During the multi day event, five personalities champion five different books based on a theme chosen for the year and the debate is broadcast over a series of five programs. At the end of each episode, the panellists vote one title out of the competition until only the winning book remains.  

This year’s theme was ‘one book to shift your perspective.’ And the winning book, announced this year on March 30th, set a precedent. For the first time ever, a graphic novel was declared the winner. ‘Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands’ by Kate Beaton was declared the book that all of Canada should read.

In putting forth her pick, Jeopardy! champion Mattea Roach said everyone is implicated in the story Ducks tells. “Ducks is one woman’s story, but it’s the story of an industry we all rely on in some way,” Roach said during the Canada Reads finale. “Whether we’re people living in Alberta who go to work in the sands . . . whether we’re people that live in central Canada who benefit from the wealth this industry creates, we are all implicated.”

Along with taking the 2023 win for Canada Reads, Ducks was also named a top Canadian comic by CBC Books in 2022, and it was one of two Canadian books on Barack Obama’s list of favourite books for that year too.

Congratulations to Kate Beaton!