Ash fell on the neighbourhood this morning as there is a wildfire going on in Boston Bar. This brought back memories of the 2023 wildfires, when my family and I (Emily) had to be evacuated. It was a special year for me, writing-wise, so when we evacuated, I couldn’t stop being a poet, so I packed a crate of books, pens, and notebooks. We stayed at a friend’s and then a kind stranger’s house for almost a week. I remember packing a copy of Mary Oliver’s Selected Poems, the collected poems of Lorca, and a yellow tattered copy of William Blake’s poems. The poems sustained me during a time of uncertainty, when I didn’t know whether I’d have a home to come back to or not.
As a poet, I tend to idealize the perfect writing space or to be cloistered away from the world to write to a point where I sometimes make excuses like, “I have too much going on” or “I don’t have the headspace to write,” etc. But honestly, I am not sure I would ever reach a place or state of mind where everything is peaceful and stable for me to write. There are some things I can be certain of—God, the sun rising and setting, seasons coming and going, and time slipping away imperceptibly like dust collecting on top of the cupboards. Yet, as I grow older, I find it harder to tolerate uncertainty. I feel as though I’ve earned my dues, having been through enough death and trauma. I would sometimes pray, Please Lord, give me an island of stability so I can write. But I am coming to terms with the fact that this is not going to happen, as wildfires are threatening us at a distance, again.
John Keats’ phrase “negative capability” has been in my mind a lot lately. He wrote, “It struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously….I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” Have I become too soft and too comfortable, in my air-conditioned home? It’s not the lack of material things and comfort. It’s the expectation of ease that’s eating away at our collective poetic sensibilities. Convenience has made it hard for us to tolerate discomfort. Julia recently wrote on her Substack, “It’s much more important to be intentional with how we utilize the things that promise us more convenience, and make sure that we don’t miss out on really living.”
All of this to say, living is supposed to be hard. The more we can live with discomfort, the better we can write. Homer’s Odyssey could have been an easy story of a man sailing back home safely in calm waters. There is no conflict in that. Conflict is central to writing and also…living.
Here are some of our favourites this week:
Free Book: My children and I are reading this version of the Odyssey
Recipe: Mango Soft Serve
Movie: The SpongeBob Squarepants movie (2004) (it’s an odyssey, ok??)
Music: Mars, the Bringer of War from “The Planets” by Gustav Holst
May you all have a blessed weekend!
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