Those of you who know me, know that I'm very much about appreciating the moment. I love to strive for that everlasting "in the moment" feeling that yogi masters have achieved, but for most of us it is a fleeting thing. Nevertheless, I can often be found breathing in a cool spring breeze, smelling the lush fragrance of blossoms while soaking in an oh-so-rare-in-Seattle bit of sunshine on my skin. I love my life.
Recently, I came across an article in Paste Magazine about a poet (Paul Siegell) and without being able to put my finger on why, I felt as though I needed to read his work. There was something about his energy that reminded me of my friend who lives in San Francisco.
My friend Adam was brought up in a typical New York Jewish family, and not too many years ago moved to San Francisco. He feels very much for that city as I do for this one. He also has ADD. Not the "video game-enduced, real life is too boring for me to bother paying attention" overdiagnosed kind of ADD. He has the real thing. He takes medication for it, but there is still a very electric energy about him.
I've been thinking about ADD recently, and I don't think that it's about the brain's refusal to be disciplined to focus. I think that everything in the world screams for attention. Every flower wants it's color, shape, and scent to be appreciated, every tune wants to be in the spotlight, every obstacle is challenging passers-by to best it, every face has a story to tell. Every single detail wants to be noticed, and folks with ADD are among the elite few that get the messages. So, how does one deal with all that coming at once? Which gets first priority? When you give your attention to one thing, another thing pops out and says, "what about me?!" and forces your attention to something else. On top of all this, there are the routine daily habits that require attention, e.g. bathing, eating, having conversations, making a living. There's just not enough in one person to do everything, to pay attention to everything.
Most of us have long ago mastered ignoring just about everything that does not directly affect us. This is why we have reminders to "stop and smell the roses," in order to remember to slow down and appreciate that everything is life, not just ourselves. Some of us make an effort to be aware of our surroundings, and some yet even make a religion out of it. But this can never compare to the noise that clogs up the consciousness of the ones afflicted with ADD.
Even so, there is something kind of beautiful about being able to get these messages from the world around us. To be able to see everything for what it was made to be and know that very few people are able to see it, know it. It's like a secret.
I made contact with Paul Siegell in order to get his book, and as we exchanged a few emails, I began calling him "my poet" when I talked to my friends, as though he were a guide the same way I might say "my personal trainer" or "my doctor" or "my music teacher." He encouraged me to write, to find my voice, and appreciated what I had to offer, despite the fact that I'd already discounted it as garbage. He made me feel talented. He reminded me even more of Adam, who speaks to me with esteemed encouragement. I sent him some cookies and he called them "delicious" and "truly remarkable."
A week went by and I anxiously awaited my poet's book, dreaming of the inspired rhythmic language he'd have placed together to create divine imagery. Then it came, and I was delighted! I dove in, excited to get started, and was thrust into a moment so deeply that I had to catch my breath. It wasn't an easy thing, this poem, which required a couple of tries to get the rhythm right in my head, but when I did, it felt as though I was being treated to a delicacy. He takes a moment and marinates in it and pours this experience onto the page with precision and a completeness that I'm sure took far longer than it appears. Each poem is like this, though some are obviously lighter subjects than others, and each one is so rich that I cannot simply bounce through pages. I have to savor each one slowly, soak in it for a while, letting it ease into my subconscious. Don't get me wrong, his poetry is not heavy by any means. It has a lightness like childsplay, but I observe its poignancy through wizened eyes, as an adult might understand the wisdom of a child's words moreso than the child himself. I am sure this is by design, but it is so perfectly blended that it is as natural as breathing.
His ability to so completely capture a moment makes me strive for that in my own life, and it makes me feel closer to Adam. I feel as though these are what he would have felt had he been there in those moments. Moreover, the two have an affection for live music that is pure. They are kindred, in a way, and I feel blessed to have encountered both of them along this path through my life.
I feel as though I've found that beautiful secret in Paul's work, except instead of wanting to keep it to myself, I want everyone to know about it. You can check out his blog at paulsiegell.blogspot.com and there is information on how to get his book, Poemergency Room, there. And NO, you cannot borrow my copy. Support the artist by buying your own!
Note: Adam's name was changed out of respect for his privacy.
