Dying/broken/forgiven.... now I begin

Born: 17-06-56....gemini.... monkey
re-born: 3-09-80
born again\found: 14-04-08
other notable dates: 10-03-68; 03-09-87; 23-03-96;
1-05-98; 31-01-02; 5-04-04

Interests: movement, stressed/transgressive embodiment, lived experience (body\space\time\relation)
expression ( word, dance, text, image, story, music, poetics)
learning, yielding......

Hopes for the blog:
offer up the wild intersectedness of lived experience and engage others in creative, expressive, perhaps irreverant, hopefully playful, and respectful encounters....
enact kindness
create moments of pause for disclosure, discovery, stillness

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Solstice and beyond

Two months and more
well, for sure
I did not feel that time move
I did not feel the twilight
or the dawns
I moved like a dragonfly
hovering, busy in many directions, adept at negotiating
the all day darknesses

mostly doing no harm
some days, swaying

body sore and bone tired
ready for soft rain
soft snow
soft fog
any fog
as long as it is still, the way only fog can be still

I will wander into it and find a clean river and there
I will sit, become nothing
become part of everything
become still

after that
some kind of return
will be possible.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Quiet Desperation

Dexterity remains under-rated
taken for granted
buttoning my shirt is no big deal
do it with my eyes
Once upon a time
maybe so
but, Now...No.

key in the lock
    floor, floor, floor
watch them soar
hear me roar
when I can't
face the dropsies
any more

Some days, the post-chemo world is
ridiculous in its good-natured
sense of humour
soaked with hope

Some days, the post-chemo world is
ridiculous in its taunting
I am this close to a laugh when I notice
I am
soaked with tears

Yielding remains under-rated
Once upon a time, maybe so
But, Now...No.

Saturday, September 12, 2015


and on it goes, tales from Autism camp...

Victoria is my most senior camper. She has been attending for 20 years. I first met her when she was a few months shy of her 11th birthday. She has given me smiles, tears, a concussion, her trust and her friendship.
And, of course, her logic.

One theorist I study, Joseph Straus, proposes an alternative 'reading' of the 'symptoms' of autism. Rather than whatever edition of the DSM manual's rehash of 'make the call' one consults, there is usually a version of obsessive fixations, purposeless repetition, and deviant sociality (oftentimes known as 'the triad of impairments') as the markers of the disorder. Straus proposes fixity of focus, local coherence and private meanings as being more resonant with the lives of Auties and Aspies who are increasingly finding their own ways to tell the rest of us about their lives and experiences. Further, these characteristics are not deficits, but rather, ways of being in the world that are idiosyncratic, meaningful, functional and helpful. Other theorists of cultural semiotics, notably  Harwood Fisher, suggest that personal and embodied logics precede meaning... necessarily. I mention these two theorists' examples not to launch into a black hole of theory, but rather to contextualize a point that I want to make: that Victoria LIVES what many theories and theorists work hard to express.

Back to Victoria's logic.
We are on a mini-train at a Niagara Safari  venue. The train chugs and rolls and wobbles with stops along the way of the large and sprawling park. Whenever ASD camp goes to this venue, Victoria and I take a train ride around the whole property. She is taller than I by about a foot, and outweighs me by about 90 pounds. Throughout the ride, she makes imperious proclamations. Here is an example of her logic.
We stop to drop off and pick up passengers. She is ready to go. She shouts "Green light GO!" The driver obliges. On the ride to our next stop Victoria lays out her logic. Green lights go with red lights on the Christmas tree. At our next stop, we drop off passengers and pick up passengers. Victoria is ready to go. She shouts "Christmas!". Nothing happens. She looks at me, puzzled. How could the driver not have understood that connection? Green lights go with red lights on the Christmas tree. ERGO, Christmas means... GO. Duh. Eventually, the driver starts up the engine and we do, indeed, GO. I suspect, however, that this happened in spite of, rather than because of, Victoria's enthusiastic encouragement of the driver.
Victoria's reasoning/connecting of ideas is known as metonymic logic. Victoria builds this in her mental landscape as a set of private and coherent structures that lead her to a conclusion which, when examined with an open mind, does indeed have a logical structure which precedes meaning (what does Christmas 'mean'? it means GO).

Welcome to ASD camp. Again and anew.
Never dull; remarkable in so many ways.
My scholarship, my pedagogy and my open mind remain in awe (and in debt).

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Only Son

today you were born
and I was reborn.

you were the astronaut
navigating the next moon
and the next stars

and I was
and have always been
pulled, even as the tides are pulled,
into that terrible wonderful time of wondering, wandering, hoping 

no regrets
only son
only love

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Wild Dogs, Hell Cats, Savage Beasts, Bloodthirsty Cannibals

This is my 20th summer of my Autism Movement camp. I began with a desire to offer movement opportunities for kids and teens with ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) who would typically NOT have an opportunity to attend a summer camp of any kind, much less a movement based camp. In many ways my camp back then was 'the last house on the block'.... that is, it was the last choice for the desperate parents who had been looking for programs for their kids but who were getting refusals or costs that were untenable. 20 years later, that is, my here and now,  my camp still seems to be serving the same function, although I am happy to say that there ARE other organizatoins out there that are taking up the responsibility of offering camp experiences to ALL kids and teens, not only the neuro-typical and high functioning ones. I began with 23 kids; now, typically I accept between 35-65 kids per week ( it is a two week camp) depending on how many students and volunteers I can attract and train.
The title of my post is the list of the names of the four groups at camp. That first summer, my campers decided that they wanted to name their groups, and so they did so with much gusto and not a little irony (for example, the group of kids who had those who tended to bite out of anxiety decided on the Bloodthirsty Cannibals. Ha ha. Funny; unless you are the one getting bitten!!). The names have stuck, and this summer's campers have embraced them in their own sweet ways. :)

I have not posted since June. Amazing... July and August have flown!! I have been teaching, prepping this summer's students and volunteers, and planning the camp. Wow. I have more supports than I had 20 years ago. And I am lucky to have them around me. I thought I would give you today's highlights... then as this week unfolds, give a few other tidbits from last week as well.
and, so, today's highlights....
The five pound poop.... one fella came in looking distressed; allergies, odd gait, moaning a little bit. This young man does not use speech for communication, but he has other effective strategies. After some distressed wandering, he made his way to our sensory room, let out a massive grunt and produced a truly epic shit (odor and volume, if you need the criteria). He is also diapered, so my students were elbow deep in poop as they assisted him in cleaning up and getting changed.
The intrepid hiding man... another fella likes to find small sheltered places to hide... usually he is not actually hiding... we know were he is. Today, he found an excellent hiding place and evaded us for about 10 minutes as we were attempting to load campers on the bus. You know that feeling when you think you have lost your child?? Yeah, that one. Awful. But, we hunted and found him huddled and snickering behind a huge pile of mats. He skipped onto the bus with three or four of us chasing behind.
Another little guy will be attending on Wednesday only (a few glitches with student and volunteers saying they will attend and then not showing up.... sigh) but he called me and my colleague a total of 20 times on our cells.... to confirm his attendance on Wednesday. Likes to dot the i's and cross the t's, this one. We cannot answer, of course... or we will be getting ten times that many calls... OCD is a common co-occurrence with ASD.
Then there was the spectacular nudity scramble in the family change room after swim where another young fella was not happy about something and needed to slam himself into the floor and the walls to get out his rage... and punch a few students in the process. We got his mom in there as fast as we could get her there and then things calmed down....
I could go on... but as you can see, it is thrilling, demanding, absurd, heartbreaking and utterly delightful. Every emotion you can imagine.... every intense moment partnered with a supremely tender one.
More to come.
So much to say about the students and colleagues on this journey with me. They care in ways that go beyond words and deeds... it is the work of the heart. It is my deep privilege to work with them.


Sunday, June 21, 2015


She might as well be real
I hold her in one hand and cradle her with the other
ridiculous, really
a creature who can fly needing cradling
as if that would keep her safe, or grounded
even more ridiculous
she cannot fly
and falling will not hurt her
Stella, the fuzzy- headed stuffed toy Blue Jay.

You gave her to me
"We want you to have Stella," you said
Stella, the Blue Jay Guardian of your retreat
the Muse of your creative process
the fluffy heart beat you carried around for three days
You want me to have her.

I screamed with joy. You saw me. Surrounded me.
I took that heartbeat, honored.
I know what she carries.
This is your bravery and your hope; this is our intimacy.
This is what happens next.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Teaching and Learning Haiku

Twilight pond shimmers
A swan glides between two moons
It is. Reflection

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

7 Years

this was the day you reached out to me
an act of hope
opens a door
we walked through

this was the day I remembered all the reasons
all the seasons
with and without you

this was the day I re-read all the letters
I knew that I would give them to you
and when you read them
you would know my heart

this was the day I knew my own heart
and trusted the hope you offered
the love we shared
without knowing who or where we were

this was the day
we began
and anew

this was the day I became
and anew

this story we keep writing
we keep

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Dry Date / Snow Day

February 1 is my dry date. It is the day I admitted that I was powerless over alcohol and over the counter/prescription drugs and decided to do something about it besides be aware and pissed off.
No regrets at all. 25 years later, I am clean and sober and I know what that means.
So, since it is now after midnight, and officially February 3, that was slightly more than yesterday. My Dry Date, I mean. Nice day, slept in, did laundry, called family, had coffee with a good friend, watched the Superbowl with a great partner...... the storm began in the evening and dropped about 40 centimeters on us over night and into today. (That's about 20 odd inches, give or take.)
Wind gusts and lake effect. Lovely. But.... it was a snow day!!
Yes, today, February 2, was a Snow day. I have not had one of those in years. I liked it. I shoveled for about 7 hours all told, with some breaks for warming up and resting. Blew my nose about 500 times. Worked all day in a pair of shapeless sweat pants so baggy it looks like I am wearing a diaper and a sweatshirt that did not match the pants. Part way through, neighbour (subject of an earlier post on the Canadian flag.... yeah, that one!!) offers to break out the snow blower from his garage that has not been used to blow anything for two years.... and I forget all about the flag and the insults and the bullshit and say, yes, indeed. Much appreciated. He and his female partner, (also mentioned in that earlier post on the Canadian flag.... yeah, HER!!!) are chatty, friendly, happy to help. Freaking amazing. February snow, I guess. They even took the flag down .... it was ice crunchy and at risk anyway, and why desecrate a flag that way.... but, wow.
The driveways and road way are clear. It looks clean and white and organized. Quiet. My shovels lean against my front porch. I bought totally unhealthy chicken fingers and potato wedges for supper and ate them with partner. Sent a birthday present to my mom. Finished up a thankless task this evening. And mostly felt some pride in the completion. My hands and forearms and shoulders and legs are sore. Time to stop using them.
Snow day. Yay. This has been a damn fine 24 hours.
So grateful I am in a frame of mind to appreciate it.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

here is a glimmer of hope......

"when people want to to learn, they will do anything"

eric mazur@eric_mazur

Monday, January 12, 2015


We Earth men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things.

Ray Bradbury
The Martian Chronicles