My Little Embers: a tribute to family and friends
Despite the pandemic and the restrictions it has imposed on people around the world, I have to say that self-isolating and social distancing have had at least one positive effect on my life: I’ve been more creative this year than at any other time I can remember. So, as we approach the end of another year, I stop to look back, reflect on the people who have impacted my creative life, and thank them.
Although in no particular order, I owe a debt of gratitude to June Cupido. June is a story coach and theatre director based in Oakville, Ontario whom I met in early 2018 at her show Truth and Illusion, a powerful and evocative work of personal storytelling that moved me so much that I had to contact the director and ask her if she would help me with my writing. Fortunately, she said “Yes” and for the past two years, she has demonstrated both patience and persistence at getting me, in her words, “to go deep, dark, and delicious” into my inner world. Our conversations and her editing are responsible for the storytelling and writing I’m doing today.
It was thanks to June that I found my way to the 6 Minute Memoir stage last September, sharing a story on the theme of forgiveness. The “6 Minute Memoir” was founded by the author and journalist Anne Bokma whose book My Year of Living Spiritually resonated with my interests in memoir writing and secular spirituality. Anne not only invited me to participate in the 6 Minute Memoir event but also to her three memoir writing workshop sessions, resulting in another story and a boost to my self-confidence.
Finding one’s voice is an important part of the storyteller’s journey. To that end, I owe much to my vocal coach and sound healer Laur Fugère. Laur is best known for having sung and coached with Cirque du Soleil for 25 years as well as having performed in productions of Cats and Les Misérables. Once a month, Laur travelled from her home in Montreal to Toronto where we would meet at her studio (for a year before the lockdowns started). Our sessions were transformative; not only did I acquire valuable breath and vocal techniques but newfound confidence that helped me release more of myself into my storytelling and song.
Also inspirational has been book and writing mentor Tanya Taylor Rubinstein. I met Tanya online back in 2011 when she was still based in Santa Fe, New Mexico (she and her partner Cidney Bullens now live in Nashville). Attracted by her interest in story and storytelling, I began following her work and receiving mentoring through her online workshops and webinars. Today, her Somatic Writing workshops have helped me make a greater connection with my “higher wisdom voice” and the “voices of my ancestors” through my journaling. Journaling and deep connections have also been integral to the work of another mentor, Juliet Bruce of New York. I discovered Juliet around the same time as Tanya and have followed her blog posts and attended a number of her journaling workshops over the years. I recommend both these mentors as your guides into the world of creative writing. And speaking of New York, I’d also like to recommend the Narrative Medicine Community at Columbia University’s Medical Centre. I’ve learned much from their workshops this year and the generous sharing of my fellow participants.
At this point, you’ll note that my creative mentors have been women. Not surprising given that most of my life I’ve worked with women and the majority of my audiences and clients have been women. That’s not to say I haven’t worked with some inspirational men (more about that coming up). Other women that have had an impact on my creativity this past year include Deb Pickfield, founder of Thinkspot in Lowville, Ontario and Tina Turner, guardian of the Courage Herd on her farm near Ottawa, Ontario.
Deb was one of the first people (outside my family) I met when I returned to Canada three years ago. My cousin called me to say, “I don’t really know what Deb does and I don’t really know what you do, which is why I think the two of you should meet.” Deb is one of those creatives who think outside the box and has created a business around it. We discovered that we shared a common connection with Otto Scharmer, co-founder of the Presencing Institute (Otto has been a mentor of mine for several years). Thinkspot is a kind of creativity centre where business teams and others can come to team build, imagine alternative solutions to problems, and have fun while doing it. Since we met, Thinkspot has provided me with a place to meet other like-minded (and some not so like-minded) people and their practices. Recently, it was a place where Deb, Kune Hua, and I imagined this year’s Winter Solstice celebration where folk could come (under pandemic rules) to acknowledge grief, choose what needed to be released, and walk a solstice spiral of intention while social distancing outside in the company of others. Kune is a relatively new friend but already I recognize a kindred spirit whose work is firmly grounded in love and community-building.
Deb was also responsible for introducing me to Tina Turner and the Courage Herd. Tina receives her inspiration from the herd of horses, a couple of sheep, and a donkey who share her home on a farm near Ottawa, Ontario. Through her virtual sessions and blog stories, Tina’s and the Herd’s wisdom has invited me to think more deeply about our connection with Nature, with the land, and with our fellow inhabitants of this planet.
Being deprived of the opportunity to share stories with a live audience, many performers and workshop leaders like myself have had to resort to using online platforms like Zoom, Skype, and Webex to reach new audiences. Two mentors — one business-oriented and the other musical — have encouraged me to use my confinement productively. A year ago, I began working with Authentic Business Coach George Kao (recommended by Tanya Taylor Rubinstein) to deepen and broaden my business expertise. George was once one of those business coaches who commanded high fees for his expertise and knowledge. But at some point, he had a transformative experience and decided to re-invent himself. His emphasis is on authenticity, relationship, and secular spirituality. Don’t mistake these as “soft skills or values”. George is a wizard at online business, sharing his wizardry at affordable prices to creatives, solopreneurs and the like. George is so generous with his material, and unlike many other coaches, shares his work free of copyright restrictions. He’s more interested in people actually using and sharing his ideas than making a fortune from them. He’s been so successful that he lives a comfortable lifestyle that feels authentic. That’s what I was looking for and it’s the reason why I’ve continued and will continue to work with George for the foreseeable future. Take a look at his website: it’s a virtual cornucopia of useful information and resources as well as courses and workshops.
Music and art have also been important to me throughout my life. I’ve been a performer and an appreciative listener with eclectic tastes. The pandemic has given me ample opportunity to listen to old and new musicians, composers, and singer-songwriters. I’ve also had time to learn to play a new instrument: the ukulele. Last year I joined a local ukulele group run by Lorraine and Bob Tadman of Burlington. Since the lockdowns started, we moved from once-a-month in-house meetings to weekly virtual meetings over Zoom. The emphasis is on fun and singing. Each week, we bring two songs to add to the mix. It was the ukulele that brought another musician to my attention: Canadian singer-songwriter and jazz singer Coco Love. Coco has one of those voices you’d die for. If heaven had angels that sang like her, I’d be tempted to go. But fortunately, Coco lives right here on Earth; in fact, it turns out she lives in my neck of the woods (Owen Sound, Ontario). In addition to being an amazing singer and writer in her own right, she’s a much sought-after community choir leader. And since the pandemic, she has transformed her in-person Wonderland Singers into an online phenomenon. Several months ago, I joined the online version of the Wonderland Singers along with about 150 other people from across Canada and beyond. For 12 weeks, we sang a variety of songs including folk and jazz standards as well as Coco’s own compositions, accompanied by Coco’s ukulele, her multi-track looper, and her infectious desire to have fun and make you feel good about yourself. The sessions have ended for now but the good news is the Coco will be offering both drop-in sessions as well as multi-week singing programs in 2021.
Artistically, I also owe gratitude to Tina Bailey of the Happy Painters and Amy Maricle, founder of the Mindfulness Art Studio. I met Tina and her husband Rob a couple of years ago. Tina is a retired art teacher who still runs a home studio and offers informal painting classes. They literally opened their house to me, allowing me to house sit their farm while they went on holiday. Since then, Tina has invited me into the studio to try my hand at painting. Since the lockdowns began, I’ve been able to pursue my artistic interests online with Amy Maricle and her “slow drawing” classes at the Mindfulness Art Studio with the emphasis on, as the name suggests, mindfulness and just being yourself. No judgements in either studio, just fun at making art.
Across the pond, I have many good friends, relationships built over the 30 years I lived in Scotland. Several bear mentioning for the extra effort to which they have gone to remain connected. Each, in his and her own way, has inspired me and made me feel loved. So thank you David Easter for your regular Facebook posts. Among the usual detritus that one finds on social media, David’s vulnerable and honest postings about life with his partner Jane have been a revelation. Sadly, Jane suffers from both advanced Parkinson’s and dementia. David’s accounts of his caring for his wife and the support of his children and their families elicit both laughter and tears. His writing has re-defined the meaning of love and commitment for me. I hope that one day David will publish his writings as I know they would be so helpful to others who find themselves in a similar situation. Thanks also to Tim Porteus, father of five and a fellow storyteller from my former home in Prestonpans, Scotland. Tim’s published tales documenting the folklore of East Lothian are both entertaining and illuminating of the human condition. I also found solace in his recent Advent riddles posted on YouTube. Supported by his children Skye and Lewis, Tim’s videos greeted me first thing in the morning with smiles and laughter to last me the day. He and his wife Kate are wonderful parents whose storied adventures outdoors with their children always engage me and bring joy to my day.
Also supporting me this last year from Scotland have been my friends Lindsay Gale (check out her wildflower garden, Saorsa Seillean, in northern Scotland), singer-songwriter Rona Valentine, and social activist Jane Rogers. Jane is the founder of the community interest company Before I Go Solutions offering courses and training in end-of-life planning. I’ve had the pleasure of contributing to Jane’s work as a facilitator and have benefitted from the many connections I’ve made with people from around the world considering the practical, ethical, and philosophical aspects of life and death. Can’t get much more authentic with people than that unless you join to sing and share with a group of men who open their voices and hearts each month. Sounds Deep is a men’s choir that I joined when I lived in the Forres/Findhorn area of northern Scotland. Organized and led by Bill Henderson and David Harrison, the choir continues to welcome me into their fold each month. Although we can’t sing in person together, we join on Zoom and talk music, relationships, our inner lives and include lots of humour as well as heartfelt connection. And at the danger of leaving other friends out, I’d like to express thanks to two constant Facebook supporters: storytellers Claire Obermarck and Maureen Phillip. (If you care to know my many other wonderful friends, go to facebook.com/michaelwilliamsstorycoaching). And I couldn’t leave social media behind without mentioning my storytelling pal Wendy Woolfson who is there to listen without judgement to my rantings and what, at times, feels like lunacy. She’s the epitome of what good friends are for one another.
Of course, I have some local support and inspiration too, most notably in the form of my colleagues/friends in the Burlington Storytellers Guild (Brenda Byers, Barb Vollick, John Wesselson, Marina Lloyd, Bob Tadman, Suzanne Burchell, Sue Ramsay) and my fellow writers and friends at the Hamilton Mountain Writers Guild.
And finally, I owe so much to my sons Luke, Zack, and Duncan, each of whom inspires me with their love and the creativity and commitment they bring to their work and relationships. And to my grandsons Dylan, Logan, and Max, I owe so much for your love, humour, and the constant reminder to laugh and play. Great distances may separate us but we are connected through our love for one another (and technology).
I write this on the shortest day of the year (December 21st). The waning of the light is countered with the promise of its return (“If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?” P.B. Shelley). But while many complain of the inconvenience caused by the pandemic, might we also see the light in the darkness? While far too many have fallen victim to the virus, the light has shone on those who care for us at great risk to their own lives. So we can’t go out to eat or shop? Is it too much to ask to stay home for a while and spend time with your family? Maybe try cooking for yourself or teach your children? Play with them? Read a book? Play a board game with the family? Zoom with friends and family? Is there not meaning to be found in the darkness? in our sacrifices?
Where would any of us be without family and friends? If the pandemic has taught me anything, it has taught me that we are a global network of love and creativity. And that by reaching out and nourishing these connections, we nourish our imaginations, our creative impulses, our hearts. Of course, I’d prefer to meet face-to-face and have real conversations over coffee, but in the meantime, Zoom will do. I’m grateful for the privilege. Don’t take it for granted. The darkness will pass eventually (“All things shall pass”, my Nana always reminded me) but let’s experience what the darkness brings rather than wish only for light.
Thank you, my family and friends. We are all, as my friend Coco Love sings, “tiny lights”. Stay healthy and happy and see you soon one day when the light returns. In the meantime, keep shining for one another my little embers.
