Alyson Shelton: Following Up to the October Forum & 'Instructions on Not Giving Up’
by Alyson Shelton
Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of guest facilitating the October Forum for PAHS. It was a pleasure, and not an unexpected one, because from my first interaction with PAHS I’ve felt accepted and encouraged to share myself, to try new things,and to reach beyond the confines of my zoom square and engage. This week brought with it emotions and challenges, tied to the horrific violence in the Middle East, and I was grateful for the opportunity to be in community with this heartbreak. It’s not the first time PAHS has been there for me and I’m certain it won’t be the last. Together, we’ve created a unique space and I hope that this model can be shared more widely and impact more lives.
The practice of close reading, of zooming in on details that often tell a broader story, is one that’s changed my life. I’ve heard, more times than I can count, to focus on the details, in writing, in life, and–from what I’ve seen on TV–in the solving of crimes. Yet, I sometimes feel ridiculous and self-involved when contemplating the nitty gritty bits of my story.
“Oh, this is so personal. Too personal. No one cares.”
But in the practice of close reading and in listening to over a hundred Where I’m From poems (inspired by PAHS), I’ve learned that people, people I feel a connection to, do care. They actually care quite a lot. No detail is too small. No revelation is insignificant, particularly during difficult times.
It was a privilege to spend an evening in community, listening to my friend and inspiration, Kim Rowe, talk about how nature shows us how to live with chronic illness and how to live, period. Flowers aren’t always in bloom, and yet, as humans, that often appears to be the goal; that we should always be flowering. Yet, fallow times are necessary and needed.
To hear Kim and then move onto a close reading of Ada Limón’s brilliant poem, Instructions in Not Giving Up, felt powerful. I chose Limón’s poem because of how it makes me feel. Everytime I read it, I feel seen and known and to spend time talking about the how and the why of it was a treat. I said in the forum, and it’s true, it was a gift to talk in such depth about her poem. I will carry the poem and our conversation with me.
I’m grateful to everyone who was able to join us and to those of you who couldn’t make it, that’s OK, it appears to me that almost everyone I know is doing so very much. Take care of yourself and rest. I care about that more than anything. We all need care.
If you have a moment, read Limón’s poem and sit with it. Or think of a natural phenomena that speaks to you; the crash of the waves, The Northern Lights, the patter of rain on your car window, an epic sunset and let it wash over you.
That’s enough. You did it.
Looking forward to the November forum and seeing some of you there.
Instruction on Not Giving Up
By Ada Limón
More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.
Asheanna here! Just wanted to invite everyone over to Circle to hear everyone's natural phenomenon that they thought of while reading the poem or any other thoughts on the poem!