This Is The Road My Heart Takes

I have been feeling panicked lately. I tend to feel panicked a majority of the time anyway, because that's just how this Schmutzie rolls. At two years old, I realized that things changed irrevocably in my absence when my toast became inedible while my mother and I were out shopping, and my trust in all things turned into trust in very little. I realized the truth of immortality on my fifth birthday as my cake was passed on from my grandparents to my parents to me, and I spent the day crying in my room. I was an early adopter of deap-seated, mortal anxiety.



When I went to my first psychiatrist back in about 1993 or 1994, he asked me if I suffered from anxiety. I had never understood what this anxiety I had read about entailed. Was it a sad feeling? Was it an angry feeling? I couldn't put my finger on what that word was pointing to, so I assumed I had never felt it. I told him that I must be a very calm person, because I had never experienced this anxiety he asked about. "I think you have a lot of it," he said. "I think that it is probably with you all of the time, and I think its omnipresence in your life has made you blind to it and its impact." He was a smart man.

Of course, when I make major life changes, this general anxiety skyrockets. It's how I do. So, when I quit my job at the shoe store so that I could work freelance from home full time, I felt both elated and COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT OH HOLY HELL WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAD I DONE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING.

I love the decision I've made, and I'm fairly confident that I won't be reduced to lining up with my cats to eat out of their kibble bowl, but it's a scary thing to suddenly be your own boss, accountant, manager, salesperson, secretary, and coffee jockey. No one's told me how to do any of this. It's easy to feel like I'm the only one flying this ship from my kitchen table straight into the dumpster just up the alley, because I have no boss daddy to assure me that I will have clients next June.

I woke up feeling quite contented this morning, though, because my dreams have stepped up to take care of me again. Just before I woke up, I was caught in this long dream about my life replayed as if it had been bathed throughout in mediocrity. The pain in it was terrible. Everything was a stab to the heart: my passionless marriage, my high school reunion, my dream husband's desire for children, the suburban bungalow. The concession to convention and necessity over pursuing a more passionate life wove a deep thread of grief and exhaustion through every experience. It's not that that kind of life can't have passion in it, but it's not a life I could have led, and, in my dream mind, I cried for every piece of me that it could not hold.

I woke up relieved to be who I am doing what I do. Having kids would make this more difficult. Having a mortgage would make this more difficult. The burden of a car would make this more difficult. My life, the one it turns out I actually like, is only possible right now because of how it differs from the one I thought my family and culture dreamed for me back in December of 1972.

There are few standards against which I feel I can measure my life, and this used to shake me. How would I know when I was successful? How would I know when I was good at what I did? How would other people be able understand me within the context of the shape my life has taken? This person that I am with my outlaw blend of gender, sexuality, religion, and cultural aesthetics: how do I know when I am following my creative pull and when I am tipping over into becoming the desperado, however gentle?

The longer I live with myself, the more comfortable I become with trusting that I am neither completely lost nor on the verge of shooting up the joint. We're good with ourselves, me and I.

I might find myself panicking at my makeshift desk, because my future has no tidy map, but no one's does, really, in the end. Had I been on the road I thought my family would have mapped for me with a house and children and a car, that would have been interrupted by cervical cancer, anyway. This is how life works. You don't get what you want, and then you get something you never imagined for yourself, and then you get something you want, and then the whole thing gets tossed over for something else, and then you keep going. It's hard, sometimes rewarding, and often unexpected. It's all very messy, and these maps we see charted out for us, the ones we think we see other people navigate better and more accurately than we do? They don't exist. They are a myth our scared hearts would like to be real, but our brave hearts know better.

And so, I'll probably keep panicking, because that's how I do, but I'll do it knowing that this is the road my heart takes. We're good with ourselves, me and I.

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PS. Listen to Iggy Pop's "The Passenger". I listen to it when I want to remember how things are.

A Blundstone Boots Giveaway? I Don't Mind If I Do!

I'm a fan of Blundstone Footwear, so when the opportunity came up to give a pair of their boots away to my fellow Canadians, I said WOO-HOO!

I also yelled WOO-HOO! at the mailman this morning when he delivered my new Blundstones. He actually leapt backward into the hallway. Stop yelling at the nice mailman, Schmutzie. Oops.



I've been wearing them all day, but I didn't put them on until I had put my own, personal stamp on them.

There's nothing wrong with The Original Blundstone in brown. It's a beautiful boot, and it's one I've coveted for quite some time, but I had this pot of burgundy shoe polish in the hall closet, and it was beautiful, too, so what could I do?



After sullying my perfectly good looking pair of Blundstones, I took them out for a walk.

They hung out with some flowers.



They helped me to carry three skillion pounds of cat food and cat litter over several blocks in 31°C (88°F) heat while wasps pelted me with their bodies. I don't know what is up with the wasps this year, but they're hyper-aggressive and seem to have evolved from being mere scavengers to being straight up predators.

Let me tell you, it's really hard to flail and run with three skillion pounds cat food and cat litter.



I should probably tell you a little more about the specifics of the Blundstone boot that makes it so loved by me:

Their oiled leather keeps out inclement weather and road salt.

The sole and leather upper are joined together without stitching, so grit can't get in between the two.

The patented Shock Protection System reduces foot strike shock by 33%.

They have TPU (thermoplastic polyurethane) outsoles that are not only slip resistant but are also oil and acid resistant and won't break down at colder and hotter temperatures.

They last for years.

Also? They hang out with terrific sandwiches (which, if you are in Regina, Saskatchewan, can be had at the Italian Star Deli).



Oh, and they have removable insoles, which I find is always a bonus if you've got orthotics to fit into the boots or if you want to slip in an extra set of insoles for more cushioning, although, after running around in my Blundstones all day, I can't imagine that you would need any more. The soles on these babies are fantastic.



I don't know if all Blundstone boots come with a hat, but mine did, and let's just say that my head and hats are not a match made in heaven.



Not to oversell these Blundstones or anything, but I even went so far as to shoot video of myself doing a terrible soft shoe in a public parking lot after walking around in them all day just to show you how much I really mean it when I say that these boots are comfortable:



I don't dance for just anybody.

So, without much further ado, I'd like to give you guys a chance to win a pair of these! And, actually, I'd like to give you two chances to win.

If you live in Canada and you would like ONE chance to get your hands on The Original Blundstone, do one of the following. If you would like TWO chances to win, do both of the following:

1. Leave a comment on this post. You can tell me why you want/love Blundstones, or you can just talk about your day or your kids or whatever.


2. Post the following tweet on Twitter, complete with hashtag:
   I want to win a free pair of Blundstone boots, because @schmutzie tells me they're awesome - http://tinyurl.com/FreeBlundstones  #FreeBlundstones

I will pick one lucky CANADIAN (sorry, all you non-Canucks) at random on Tuesday, September 13th at midnight using random.org, and then I will announce the winner both here and on Twitter.

Good luck!

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UPDATE: The contest is not closed, because the free pair of Blundstones has been won by nowlansgirl!

You Should Probably Enter To Win A Free Photo Book From Shutterfly and I, Because They're Darn Spanky

Despite the fact that spring is coming on with all the verve of a snail on quaaludes — I live in Saskatchewan, and WE HAD MORE SNOW LAST NIGHT — I'm starting to feel that energetic thrum moving through me. It happens every spring. I am filled with a near-anxious excitement over new things, whether there are new things happening or not. Of course, I'm lucky this year, because there are actually new things to celebrate. This will save me from manically searching for meaning while I clean out the backs of our closets.

Oh, who am I kidding? I don't clean out the backs of our closets, except for when we move. When we moved last fall, I discovered all the musical instruments from my elementary school music classes and am still fairly certain that I need to learn how to play the recorder, ukulele, and kazoo to some level of proficiency.

Aaaaanyway, on to celebrations, because it's Spring!

My friend Mrs. Wilson just had huge chunk of a boy very recently, and this seems to be the time of year when everyone is having smaller and larger chunks of their own, and so it just seems fitting that there should some spanky birth announcements or photo books to crow about them, which is why — jeebus, my sentences are long today — I am giving away a Shutterfly 8"x8" photo book.

If you would like ONE chance to get your hands on a Shutterfly 8"x8" photo book, do one of the following. If you would like TWO chances to win, do both of the following:

1. Leave a comment on this post. You can tell me how you're going to use the photo book or just say hello if you want to.


2. Post the following tweet on Twitter, complete with hashtag:
   I want to win a Shutterfly photo book - http://tinyurl.com/shutterflyFTW  #shutterflyFTW

I will pick one lucky person at random on April 22nd at midnight using random.org, and then I will announce the winner both here and on Twitter.

So, go forth! Comment and tweet! Your beautiful photobook awaits you.

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Are you a blogger, too? Click here to register for a chance at 50 free announcements!

This post is part of a series sponsored by Shutterfly. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

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UPDATE: And the giveaway winner has been chosen. It is Brahm (alfred lives here)!

An Interview With The Lovely Jen Lee And A Giveaway Of Finding Your Voice

I met Jen Lee during my most favourite ever blogging conference session ever, Blogging As Storytelling, at BlogHer '09 in Chicago. I spoke to her briefly after the session, immediately decided that she should become a citizen of my semi-nomadic yurt-dwelling community, and have followed her online ever since.



If you know Jen, you know the thoughtful and creative force, the awesome, that is she. If you do not know Jen, let me introduce you to her, because to know her is to love her. She is a writer, photographer, and storyteller raising a family in New York and bravely helping to forge a new genre "...that marries story, myth and poetry to the wisdom mined from [the individual]..."

She is also the author of a course that helps you guide yourself to your own storytelling voice, Finding Your Voice: A Multimedia Course, a course that she and I are giving away to one of you lucky readers for free at the end of this entry, because you are so keen. The course we're giving away includes an audio learning program, an interactive workbook, a handwritten blessing, and private access to a course-specific discussion board.

Jen let me interview her about the course, how she came to create it, and why finding your voice important.



First, tell us a little bit about who you are as an artist and storyteller.

I feel like a bag of paradoxes. Superhero brave and totally chicken shit. I'm this crazy old-school, Little House On the Prairie girl with an aversion to technology and a high need for privacy who somehow found her way into being an internet artist and a live performer. I'm someone with something to say who is always looking for a way to get out of doing it. I want to be heard, and I want to be hidden. The tension of it all feels like it will tear me apart sometimes, trying to learn to live with some kind of peace in the middle spaces, but it grounds me in my humanity. We are complicated beings — there's no way around it — and the parts that appear to be contradictory are perhaps the most interesting (and true) of all.

What led you to want to create Finding Your Voice: A Multimedia Course?

I wanted this work to be available to a wider community. It's hard knowing so many people are longing to be a part of this conversation, but are prevented from attending live events like workshops and retreats by situational or financial constraints.

Tell us about experiences you had while you developed this course at Squam?

I'm laughing, remembering the first workshop I taught there. I was SO tired, and one of my students said afterward, "You're doing more content in half a day than other instructors are doing in a whole day. What you just told us is a BOOK — do you know that?" I didn't. I had no concept of pacing, and how much people could absorb in a 3-hour period. I wanted people to feel like they were "getting their money's worth", so I was just spilling all the goods like a jackpot win pouring out of a slot machine. If it were just a question of intellectually entertaining some ideas, that would be one thing. But people stumble into realizations that really shift something on a very foundational level. The kind of things that you need time to rearrange your cells and your soul around, that make you want to lie down or not hear another word until you can process it. And I was just blazing through this stuff like a racehorse, trying to jam it all in before our time ended.

Ever since, I've been working to slow the content and the process down. It took me years of living to move through these spaces, and it's crazy talk to try and move others through it as fast as I was. I had this work — really good, foundation-shifting stuff — but I was up against the constraints of what people could absorb and integrate into their living.

I started experimenting. What could we do in three days together? I hosted three retreats last year that were three-day affairs, and I was still lopping off content left and right. Then I thought, what could we do in three months together? I wrote a 12-week voice and story curriculum last year, presenting the various parts and pieces in my Squam workshops along the way.

I often say that we don't know what we've got until we give it away, and this was completely true of my workshops and retreats. People responded to the material in a really powerful way, so I knew that I was onto something. That this work was making a difference and mattered. So I began the process of producing that 12-week curriculum, slowing it down even more and breaking it into multiple courses. Finding Your Voice is the first in that series.



What did you learn from the process of creating this course, and what do you want others to take away from it?

I've been trying to check this work off my list and move on, but one thing I'm learning is that some assignments from the universe are not fulfilled so quickly or easily. This conversation is going to have my presence and attention for some time to come.

Creating it has also been an exercise in really rooting my work in myself--my values, my story, every aspect of my expression. It's so easy to become distracted by how "everyone else" is doing it and second-guess oneself, but I have such an aversion to anything that doesn't line up with my values that I knew I couldn't present this work any other way, at least right now.

I want others to know that it's never too late to visit old injuries and process them in a new way that gives you more freedom, more awareness, more access to all of yourself. We all want to be brave, but making our way across our personal minefields is daunting, no matter how you frame it. These are my best avoid-the-blast moves, and if they get even one other person through a precarious place, I will be so deeply happy.

What is the basic first step in finding your voice, and why is finding your voice important?

The first step is to bring your awareness to an aspect of your voice that eludes you or is hard to access. Identifying that alone shifts something. Once your awareness is on it, it's pretty hard to believe those things we've been telling ourselves about how *we're fine* and *it doesn't really matter anyway*.

Our voice is like those old phones we used to make out of cans and a string--it's the communication line to our true, whole selves. It's how we reach back to the parts of ourselves we condemned to the attic long ago, it's how they come out of the dark and get to be heard along with the rest. Whatever we're creating, it will be more rich and full if we are creating with our whole voice, in all its contradictions and complexities, instead of some thinner, two-dimensional version that is simply easier to live with or more palatable for others to take.



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Jen and I want to give Finding Your Voice: A Multimedia Course away for free to one of you, because we are, all of us, storytellers, whether we're writing the next great American novel or documenting a spectacularly disgusting diaper incident.

There is nothing quite like finding your voice. It's like coming home.

If you would like ONE chance to get your hands on Finding Your Voice: A Multimedia Course, do one of the following. If you would like TWO chances to win, do both of the following:

1. Leave a comment on this post. You can tell me why you need this course or about your latest cooking snafu. We're not picky.


2. Post the following tweet on Twitter, complete with hashtag:
   I want to win @jenleedotnet's course, Finding Your Voice - http://tinyurl.com/findingmyvoice  #findingmyvoice

I will pick one lucky person at random on April 21st at midnight using random.org, and then I will announce the winner both here and on Twitter.

So, have at it and comment and tweet this baby! Your voice is waiting.

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UPDATE: And the giveaway winner has been chosen. It is The Other Laura!

Let's Panic About Babies! Is Pretty Twisted, And You Probably Want To Win Your Very Own Copy

I was hearing about all of these other people getting their copies of Let's Panic About Babies! already, and I had on my best pouty face about not having mine yet, but nothing, not even a severely protruding lower lip, will speed up shipping to Canada, so I just had to wait it out and hope I got my copy before those babies started high school. Finally, yesterday afternoon, my blessed copy arrived one week after its launch. We Canadians do suffer so.

The first great thing I noticed about Let's Panic About Babies! is that you can't talk! about the book! without using! at least one! exclamation mark! (I used five extra ones, but you can't use zero exclamation marks. It's innately exclamatory!)

The second great thing that I noticed about this book? If you hold the cover up against your face just right, it totally looks like you are going to eat that baby, and not in that cute I-want-to-put-your-feet-in-my-mouth way, either. I look thoroughly psychotic.



(By the way, you might have noticed that I am wearing one of Eden's famous t-shirts under my haute couture red flannel in that photo. This is purely coincidental. I am not obsessed with the authors of this book. For serious.)

Okay, look. I think I've started this review off on the wrong foot. For one thing, you probably weren't even aware this was a review. It is! For another thing, I have painted myself to be a baby-eating psychotic with an Eden Kennedy obsession. I'm not! I'm a perfectly normal human being who likes the authors Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy in a perfectly normal way and who wants to tell you that Let's Panic About Babies! is a perfectly normal book about pregnancy, childbirth, and early babyhood.

Oh, who am I kidding. This book is not a perfectly normal book. It is a perfectly ridiculous book, and it is a perfectly sometimes twisted book, but it is not normal, and this is a good thing, because there is nothing normal about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenthood.

Some people will try to give you the impression that all of this is very natural and wonderful as a way to convince that all of this is normal. Let me tell you one thing I know from my 38 years of worldly experience: natural is not what we mean when we talk about normal. Natural is lions eviscerating wildebeests. Natural is giant spills of molten rock devouring Pompeii. Natural is spending years of your life knowing that you have someone else's snot or old food or vomit or poo stuck somewhere on your person at all times because you had the wild idea to procreate.

Aaaaand back to the book, because that's why we're here. How about you watch this video trailer to acquaint yourself with the flavour of Let's Panic About Babies! while I go and pour myself some more of that lovely hot, brown juice I call joe?



See? Twisted.

I feel compelled to tell you that I like this book even though I have no babies now nor will I ever. I am the least baby-having person around since some doctors absconded with my uterus coming on four years ago, and yet I still laughed my fool head off until the Palinode demanded to know what was so funny at nearly three in the morning thankyouverymuch, because, as it turns out, anyone can panic about babies. If there's something to panic about, it's definitely babies, and panicking about them is hilarious, if Alice and Eden have anything to say about it, which they do for over 260 ridiculous pages.

What I want to do for you, because this book is worth spreading, and also because Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy should be spre...

That sentence looked like it was going nowhere good.

What I meant to say is that I want to give away one spanky, awesome copy of Let's Panic About Babies!


THE WINNER HAS BEEN PICKED AND THE GIVEAWAY OVER. A VERY BOO HOO TO YOU.

If you would like ONE chance to get your hands on Let's Panic About Babies!, do one of the following. If you would like TWO chances to win, do both of the following:

1. Leave a comment on this post telling me something that has to do with babies and panicking. I'm sure you've panicked at several points in your life, and I'm also sure that at least one of those incidents was baby-related.


2. Post the following tweet on Twitter, complete with hashtag:
   
   What should we panic about? Let's Panic About Babies! http://tinyurl.com/panicaboutbabies  #panicaboutbabies

I will pick picked one lucky person at random on March 15th at midnight and announce announced the winner both here and on Twitter.

While you enthusiastically enter this giveaway and await my announcement of the lucky winner, you can also avail yourself of the full menu of Let's Panic About Babies! charms:

Like them on Facebook

Follow them on Twitter

Check out the Let's Panic! website

Buy the book!

So, get with the commenting and the tweeting. I hope you win!

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UPDATE: And the winner is MayB of Buggering Crap Monkies! She's one funny lady by nature, so this is a perfect win.

Thanks for playing!