Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
The Gift in All This – An Update
It’s been a while since I’ve written any kind of update.
I mean, I’ve been writing and painting working and writing, but haven’t really posted a what’s up and what’s going on in some time. There was a lot going on, but I’ve been healing. I’ve come to realize that this last round of chemo hit me in the butt, and I just don’t have the spoons I once did. I’m trying to reengage with life and with the world around me and that includes all of you reading this. Hello!
I’ve really been trying to embrace the idea of rest. I’m not very good at it. Gone are the days where I’m writing one book, in edits for another and promoting a third or doing a whole painting in a matter of hours. I’ve really tried to make rest a priority. I’ve been sick on and off since I finished the third round and I still have a fourth one to look forward to in the future. It’s not lost me that while the chemo has reduced the percentage that my multiple sclerosis is active in my body (currently at 1.09%!), I’ve been sick more lately than ever. I went from never being sick ever to being sick all the time.
Part of me can look at it negatively, and there are some days that I do, but I have to see the gift of it for any of this to have balance. I’m tired all the time now and I have really been trying to find balance. I used to be doing everything in an evening; now I’m having to focus on doing just one thing. And you know what? That’s okay, honest.
I haven’t had anything published in well over a year. I haven’t had anything published since my book of poems Covidly Speaking in 2022 Queen of Swords in 2023. It’s been a while, you know?
Please forgive the shameless plug, it’s been a while since I’ve been at this.
There are a few things to look forward to! My novel Minotaur is going to be published by Rebel Satori Press later this year! I know, right? That’s so amazing and I can’t wait for you all to read Roanne’s story. I wrote it during a time of isolation and wanted to create a world where everyone was together but separate. I had the first line in my head for months before I started writing. By then, the world had taken shape. I can’t wait for you all to read it! More on that as new develops. The edits have been handed back to my publisher, I’ve seen cover templates and I’m looking at a November 2025 release.
I’ve been working on a memoir titled Someone Else’s Life over on my Spirit of the Wolf Tarot site and eventually, after the draft has been gone over, edited and made to look its best, I’m going to publish it. I’m really thrilled with how it’s going. The memoir focuses on a time in my life when I ended up on the streets and found my way off again. I’m over halfway through and it’s odd to think I can see the end now. It seemed insurmountable when I first started. You can find that here: https://spirit-of-the-wolf.com/
I’m going to be attending Can-Con in October of this year which I’m really excited about. I’ve been too sick to go for the past two years, so I’m really looking forward to it this year. I’m hoping to be on a few panels, more news as it comes, but really it will just be a joy to finally be able to attend in person.
I’ve also been planning a short story collection. It will be my first short story collection in many years, and I’ve been gathering all the stories together. There will be over forty stories and novellas. I’ve been struggling with a title and how to order the stories, but that’s still in the works. I’m going to call it What the Moon Had to Say. That should be coming out in 2026.
I think that’s all the news right now. Thank you for reading what I write and for always being so awesome. Sending sparkles to all of you.
The Wisdom of Trees – A Poem
I was diagnosed with relapse and remitting multiple sclerosis twelve years ago today.
I’ve been trying to think of what this means to me. Living with a chronic illness on top of a physical disability has not been an easy road, but it’s one that I’m proud of. I’ve survived so much, and I’ve been able to experience the world in ways I never thought were possible.
Normally, I would sit and write out a blog post about what this means to me and maybe reflect on what I have learned in twelve years. Instead, this poem is what wanted to come out. I hope you enjoy it.
The Wisdom of the Trees
I remember the day my life changed for the second time.
My body had been so familiar to me until the
unseen force from within took
everything.
I remember sitting there in the shadows, waiting for the
crows as the trees whispered. I remember praying
that the doctors would be wrong,
that they had made a mistake.
I remember the doctor, sitting across from me,
his kind face a bright beacon as the shadows
threatened to close in and I desperately
wanted them to.
“You won the multiple sclerosis lottery,” he said kindly,
as if this was supposed to make me feel better.
“Relapse and remitting?” I asked him.
“That means it will go away?”
In the twelve years that I have been on this long path,
there is so much that I have learned about who
I really am and what I’m truly
capable of.
Sometimes, I will look at the forest that I carry
in hopes that the trees will contain some
kind of wisdom as I look at the path
that winds ahead.
I’ve had to lean to grow differently,
my vines reaching for the dark and
the light. Twelve years I’ve carried this
other being inside my bloodstream and while it has
taken everything from me, it has also given me more
than I ever thought possible.
In Your Orbit – A Poem
* For Cait who is awesome
I knew that you were a kindred spirit
from the moment that I met you.
You carry a light that shines from within.
It’s grown brighter since I’ve known you.
I’ve had the joy of watching you change
from a spark into a star that is so brilliant,
everyone who has been in your orbit
has felt the pull of the stars.
You have made me question everything
that I thought I knew and because of you,
I have been able to find my way
through the cosmos.
Your light heals those
who drift through the orbit of your life
and we are left changed by you.
Anyone with the heart of a warrior
would recognize themselves in your gaze.
You have taught me to honour
the journey of myself,
turning over each rock in my path
to find the mirror underneath.
I am forever grateful
for what the stars have taught me
and I am so thankful to be
in your orbit.
A Yellow Light – A Poem
As I walked towards her,
the first thing I noticed was the yellow kerchief.
It had been artfully tied to cover her head.
She smiled when she saw me.
“It’s so nice to see you,”
she said,
genuinely happy.
“Are you enjoying the day?”
I said to her.
The words felt oddly formal as they fell from my mouth.
I almost felt like bowing,
she had that air about her,
full of light and wonder.
There was a regalness to her,
and if I looked at her out of the corner of my eyes,
I could almost see a sceptre in one arm.
“I’m doing alright, all things considered.”
Even though she spoke at a normal volume,
her words carried weight.
I heard multitudes when she spoke,
looking at me with a gaze of knowing that was so deep,
her eyes recalled the ocean.
“They want me to go on another round of chemo. They must wait until my blood is strong enough.”
She gave her head a small shake.
“Until I’m strong enough. To take the next round, you understand this. I don’t mind the chemotherapy so much. It’s what happens afterwards.”
I knew of the journey she was on,
having been through three rounds of chemo myself,
waiting for my body to be healed enough for the next round,
ready to be destroyed again and wipe away everything,
until there was nothing left to give.
“I wouldn’t mind it so much, if I could tell if it was all worth it.”
She shook her head,
looking away and closing her eyes as a look of sadness crossed her face.
When she looked back at me,
the sadness was gone,
despair hidden away within the deep compartments of her.
“It’s been the same for me,”
I said nervously.
“But I think it’s working. I’m being put on a fourth round later this year.”
She gave me the warmest look,
and I watched as her eyes reclaimed the light.
“That’s amazing,”
she told me.
“Isn’t it strange the journeys that we have to go on? There’s no telling who we will be on the other end of them.”
The words were wise,
but filled with a sadness all the same.
“Would you like a hug?”
I asked her,
wanting to offer her some sort of comfort.
“You’re sweet to offer, you have my thanks.”
She bowed her head towards me,
and I nodded in return.
“And you have mine,”
I told her.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I asked her.
She nodded her head once more.
“Of course. What other way is there to be? Us warriors have to keep going. I’m going out for the first time in forever. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
A smile fills her face and chases away the shadows.
“That’s right. We have to live, don’t we?”
She give me another royal nod of her head and I understand;
my audience is over.
I bow my head back to her and wish her a pleasant day.
As I make my way back into my building,
I turn and see a yellow light shining around her,
then she is gone,
as if she never was.
The Deep Terrain – A Poem
I have been trying to find my way
through the hills and valleys of myself.
It’s been a slow peeling back
of the terrain that my body holds
so that I can see what it hides underneath.
There are veins that run
in the deepest parts of me,
full of a vital life force that has no name.
Deeper still,
there are boxes, chests, caskets and bags,
wrapped in chains which wear padlocks covered in rust.
I reach for the locks on each vessel, and they click open,
coming free and falling away with a clatter of chains
that sounds like an eerie kind of music.
I realize that I am the key.
All the locks needed was my permission,
my will, to open them.
I begin to pull all the boxes and bags free
from the dark regions of myself, opening each one.
As I do, I watch the barren landscape around me,
grey earth filled with the ice-cold blue of a morning frost,
mountains in the distance whose tips are covered in clouds,
bloom with blades of grass and flowers.
I watch trees rush to the surface of the earth,
and plants start to grow,
blooming as if in stop motion animation.
I dig deeper still and pull out a jewel encrusted music box.
When I open this box,
I watch as water rushes between the rocks,
finding its path toward me.
I pull out a bag that feels as if it’s filled with clothes.
When I open it, I realize it is filled with birds
which take to the air and find comfort in the trees
that now surround me,
filling the air with birdsong.
Every box filled with mystery and memories
frees more wonders that had not been there before.
My fears, self-hatred and shame become something more
when they are finally free from the dark.
In the distance, I watch as the sun comes over the horizon.
Looking at the empty bags, boxes and caskets
covering the ground, I know what I need to do.
I began to reach into myself,
pulling out all the hurt, everything I hate about myself
and the opinions of others that have stayed with me.
They are like black tendrils made of tar that stick to my skin,
covering it in an oily residue that burns,
but I almost relish the pain because it means I’m alive.
It’s a struggle to put the darkness into their respective prisons,
but soon every one of the empty vessels are filled,
chains wrapping around each one when I am finished.
I bury those things within the darkness of myself,
planting them in the soil of myself,
knowing that when I am ready to start a new cycle
and I find myself here again,
the dark will become a light,
ready to shine against the shadows when they are
finally free once more.
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Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 