It's Double Team Day! I'm quizzing Liz here, while she's got me covered at her place.
Liz is the author of A Sock is a Pocket for your Toes (and two other upcoming books,) an inspiring classroom volunteer, a coffeehouse-hosting poetry teacher, AND a compulsive runner and a well-balanced yogini. (Plus, I've got to add: this poet/athlete knows how to throw down a sonnet.)
Here we go...
1) About those quotes in yesterday's post. Care to reflect on them? Do you have a part of your body that you feel your writing comes from?
Yep. For me, too, writing needs to be from the body in order to be ‘harmonious’. The thing about writing from just my brain is that it can sound too un-squeaky. All craft, no heart, if that makes sense. For me, there are different stages of writing. Gut, shoulder blades, rib cage. It doesn’t always feel good – I sometimes want to suppress the fluttery feeling or squeeze of it – but I am absolutely certain that there is something rich happening when I’m embodying it that way. When I simply come up with an idea and craft it, without anything that resembles a panic attack or lung constriction, it inevitably falls flat on the page.
2) What's your favorite physical activity and what have you learned from it about life and writing?
I have a dual activity lifestyle – running and yoga. These provide the perfect balance of outdoor and indoor activity, building and stretching, heart pumping and lung opening, extroversion and introversion. I have learned, from running, that a partner makes the effort easier and more fun and gives me something external to live up to. Ditto, having writing partners. And that there is no magic – you put one foot in front of the other, working to go a little further or a little faster week after week. Ditto, writing – one word after another after another. It’s the only way I know to get a draft down on the page. And also from running, that even if I don’t want to start, I never, ever regret it when I’m finished. Ditto, writing. The first five minutes are always the hardest. Yoga? I’ve learned that, in the end, it’s just me – my mind and body – that I’ve got to reckon with and count on. Ditto, writing. The partners and community and support make the long slog easier but it’s just me and my mat, errr – my page, in the end. And I’ve learned that some days are easier than others and sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason behind that. Progress isn’t always linear or logical. I have to meet myself where I’m at each day. Ditto, of course, writing. And I’ve learned that even if I don’t want to start…. Yep. Same lesson as running. And writing. That one needs learning over and over again.
3) Do you feel that exercise is essential to your mental health? (I do!)
Whoa, boy. Don’t even know where I’d be (except that it might have the word ‘institution’ in the title) if I didn’t get my fix.
4) Is there a sport/activity that you want to try, but haven't?
Over the years I’ve tried lots – everything from Nia to Masters’ swimming to climbing fourteeners to pilates. I’d still climb peaks if I lived in the mountains. I wish I like pilates but I’m kind of wimpy that way. I think the answer is, I’ll try almost anything once or thrice but I feel sure that I’ve already found the combination of things that really work for me, physically and mentally/emotionally.
5) Why do you think you're better at certain sports than other kinds? Certain forms of writing than other forms?
The only thing I can’t abide (and I know I’ll probably have rotten tomatoes thrown at me for this) are team sports. My hand/eye coordination is pathetic, which puts me at a disadvantage in terms of any ball sports and I hate feeling the pressure of a team. All my favorites are individual activities that don’t involve hoops or nets or goals. I like to depend upon – and compete against, I guess, myself. Writing – I am better at the lyrical than the narrative. I am more about sound and image and metaphor than I am about conflict. I love characters but I’m not very good at getting them to do anything. Which is kind of ironic considering this series on exercise, isn’t it?
6) Are you competitive? In sports or in writing?
I don’t know, but I wish I could say “no”. I think that feels more yogic. And more righteous. But alas. I always say that my only aim is to finish a race but then I watch the clock and try to shave off minutes in the end. And writing? I’ve gotten better about this. I used to really suffer from jealousy, but now I feel genuinely happy for other people’s successes. I think I am more driven than competitive. I try very much to make it me against me, rather than me against you. Wanna arm wrestle?
7) Is there an athlete or teacher that you admire?
I admire so many athletes who do powerful and beautiful and unfathomable things with their bodies. When I was a kid I was obsessed with the speed skaters Eric and Beth Heiden. I really love the yoga teacher David Swenson for the humor and humanity he incorporates into teaching. And there’s an amazing runner here in Austin called Gilber Tuhaboyne who survived civil war in his native Burundi and now he runs and teaches and inspires people in a big, big way. I love athletes for whom athletics are about big things like hope… peace… community.
8) What's your favorite yoga pose?
Downward dog. It tends to everything that needs tending – back, legs, shoulder girdle. And I get a nice little rosy head rush from it. I love me a little dog… (Me, too, Liz, me too!)
9) What keeps you going when you're tired? How do you motivate yourself?
Kombucha and a handful of almonds? Let me think. Sometimes I guess I don’t keep going. I’m a fan of the 15 minute nap. Motivation, though, when things are going well, just happens. Y’know how you will read until 3 in the morning when the book is just that good. I think work – writing – can be that way too. Even when my eyes are bleeding, I can’t stop. That can make the next morning’s run pretty grisly, though.
10) What would you say to those who hate their own bodies and/or hate their own writing?
Oh, man. I’d say, “I’ve been there.” But. But. I think I’d also say it’s just not worth it. I mean, I know this isn’t deeply and emotionally astute, but self-loathing, on a physical or creative level, is really unproductive. And the real way to talk yourself out of the loathing is to do something fabulous with what you’ve got. That may mean taking a brisk walk around the block or trying trapeze flying or climbing Kilimanjaro. It may mean writing morning pages or joining a critique group or finally submitting something to an editor. Doing something, I think, is always better than doing nothing. There is so much pleasure in discovering what it is we’re all capable of, don’t you think?
I do think so, and thanks, Liz! That was a lot of ground to cover....I'm going to go rest now...
(Don't forget to go to Liz's blog today. I believe I'm booked over there as the half-time entertainment!)
I don’t know. I think it could be a reasonably savvy response: “we expect the community we serve to treat us as professionals, and our patrons as adults.”
Look who’s gotten all defensive in that article. It’s not the library! And that’s as it should be.
That’s an interesting way to look at it. I guess I saw the cancellation as affecting the kids who were not the ones complaining. Seeing it as a direct affront to the community seems like a better read on why the cancellation might be effective. I wonder if this is one of those “shot across the bow” things and they’ll work something out that is more moderate?
The best thing about this is the equation of religious bullies with terrorists. From the School Library Journal article you link to:
the thing about the cancelling of the south carolinia program, is that these people have a real threat for some kind of disruption, including boycotts, losing government support, and phyiscal violence.
I do not have religious objections to Tarot reading myself, but as a Tarot player, I am disappointed at what appear to be one-sided presentations of Tarot cards only in terms of divination.
Tarot cards, according to playing card historians, were not originally designed for fortune telling. They were created for playing a type of card game similar to Whist. Tarot card games are still played today in France, Austria, Italy, and Switzerland. There also appears to be a small but growing number of players outside Europe.
If public educational institutions foster the notion that Tarot is only about divination and the occult, then they are not doing the job for which we pay them.
I think that taxpayer funded institutions such as public libraries and public schools which are designed to educate the public should give equal time to the card playing aspects of Tarot. Tarot is often presented in this country only as something to accept or reject in terms of its alleged accuracy in predicting the future. When other options such as card playing are being supressed, one is not actually free in how one views or uses the cards.
I must ask why must all presentations of Tarot in this country have to be occult related? Why do we not expose the young people to actual card games played with Tarot decks? Teens should be aware that Tarot cards are not just used for the occult or for divination. We should teach teenagers the rules for Tarot card games too. It is highly possible that young people may come to prefer the card games over the divination practices. They should be given an informed choice. We should educate young people about all aspects of culture including Tarot and not present one sided depictions of these matters.
I do not wish for these Tarot presentations to be banned or cancelled as they have in some parts of the country, but I do think they should be more balanced by including some information regarding Tarot’s role in the history of card games.
Hillarious
James D. Wickson, have you volunteered at your local library or anywhere else to teach people how to play Tarot?
Interesting you should bring that up, Karen. I am in fact in the process of making plans to form a Tarot/Tarock gaming group here in Las Vegas.