Dear friends,
Years ago, I lived on the north side of Dublin and got to know a bunch of women who went to daily mass. They were all in their late 70s and 80s. They had all survived those atrocious Magdalene Laundries. None of them had an ounce of self-pity. They were all characters.
One of them, Mary, had a stock phrase that she said to everyone, whether bishop, fool of a youth worker (ahem), Mother Superior, or politician. “I’m praying for your conversion,” she’d say.
It was a magnificent phrase, democratizing. I swear, if she’d met God Almighty, she’d have said the same. Praying for your conversion.
A friend of mine, longtoothed in conflict mediation work between police, paramilitaries, victims’ groups, businesses, and religious leaders used the word “conversion” a lot too. Sometimes when we are negotiating for a compromised and considered change, what we are actually hoping for is a fundamental change of heart, a new disposition.
I say all this because I have been thinking of conversion a lot lately, especially since having interviewed the magnificent Canadian poet Don McKay. He was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award by the Griffin Poetry Prize (founded in 2000, by — among others — Margaret Atwood and Michael Ondaatje). Don has lived and taught all around Canada (and also in Wales), but in the last 15 years or so, he has been based in Newfoundland. He describes how his poetry is marked by two major conversions: towards birds and towards geology. His latest book, Lurch, evidences this lifetime of dedication toward what’s beneath and what’s overhead — the earth below us, the flight of birds above. The interview — if you wish to have it on in the background this Sunday — is on YouTube here.
And whether or not you listen to the interview, it makes me wonder what your conversions are. If you could name one — or, maximum, two — conversions of your life, what are they?
I’ve been wondering that in prep for this newsletter, and here’s one: when I was 23, a friend of mine died. He was 23 too. I’d run into a fight when we both were 11 and pulled him out, saying we could be friends. (Poor guy, I think that was worse than having the shit beaten out of him!) After he died, everything I thought I believed about heaven and hell did too. Everything.
Friends — I await your stories of conversion.
PS: I cannot not mention American news from the past week, as did Krista in her note from On Being on Saturday. I have been thinking of the assassination attempt, the fear and worry, and the political climate of the United States. In times like this, I am such a foreigner. I have heard distress on the news and in messages. Our own monumental peace agreement, the Good Friday Agreement, recommends itself to citizens “in the spirit of concord” — shared heart. This, too, is a conversion, and such language is not merely a dainty decoration on democracy, rather it is the very blood of it.
Poetry in the World
A list of events: Online; in the US (Keene Valley and Rhinebeck, NY; Kent, OH); England; and the Scottish island of Iona
August 7 at 6-7:30pm (Eastern Time, US), online
I’ll be exploring conflict and change through poetry at an online event in partnership with the International Center for Cooperation and Conflict Resolution at Columbia University. You can register for free here.
August 10–11, Keene Valley, New York, US
I’ll be speaking and sharing at a weekend of events titled “Exploring Spirit and Reconciliation,” held at Keene Valley Congregational Church UCC. Go here to learn about the weekend’s activities and to register.
August 23–25, Northamptonshire, England
I’ll be at the Greenbelt Festival, and, among other events, I will be interviewing the brilliant Jenny Mitchell (whose poem “A Man in Love with Plants” we featured on a Season 7 episode of Poetry Unbound). You can go here to learnabout the festival.
September 19–21, Kent, Ohio, US
I’m looking forward to being part of the 40th anniversary of the Wick Poetry Center at Kent State University, alongside Naomi Shihab Nye, Jane Hirshfield, and Adrian Matejka. You can register here, and find more information about the celebratory events here.
October 6–11, Rhinebeck, New York, US
I’m back for a week at Omega (just two hours north of NYC) for a week of reflection on poetry, poetry prompts, and group discussions. Expect lovely people, gorgeous surroundings and food, and conversations about how poetry opens your world. Learn more here.
March 10–15 and March 18–23 2025, Isle of Iona, Scotland
I’m holding two Poetry Unbound retreats on the gorgeous Scottish island of Iona. Each retreat is the same. Both retreats are booked up, but you can get on the waiting list by contacting the folks at the St. Columba here.
Three conversions, none more important than the other. 1. Away from heteronormative choices to appease family, toward authenticity as a gay man. 2. Away from the God I knew growing up, who picked and chose who they favored with blessing, to a deeper understanding of love and grace beyond the confines of religion. 3. Away from the need of certainty, toward a willingness to flow with the nuances of not needing to know.
A first conversion, in my teens, was the kind so often spoken of. To God, to a specific kind of fundamentalism that was both beautiful and binding. The second, at around 40, was the opposite of that. A turning (thank you T.S. Eliot) away from such a defined belief system and toward...well, everything else. A closing and an opening. Both heartbreaking and heart-healing.