I don't know all of the details, and I also am making some assumptions on his life based upon poetry (always a risky proposition), but it seems as though slam poet Shane Koyczan lost his mother due to illness, lived with his grandparents,* and has said goodbye to too many people he knew.
But assuming his poetry is autobiographical, I think it's fair to say that he's had a pretty rough life. Yet his stories are filled with hope, his words with wisdom, and his warm voice with a fatigued but familiar friendliness that holds me when I'm lonely and no one else's arms are nearby to shrug into. And it got me thinking about the marvel of what it is to be so connected, and how much I owe to two Canadian grandparents, one from pre-war Austria, who did their best to raise a young man with a darkness in his soul that he wished to exorcise. Their hard work to raise Shane has, indirectly, led to the life of a guy in Utah Valley being improved, helped, and brightened. Thanks to the internet, I learned of some poetry that I could never have experienced otherwise. Because of their love for their grandson, I am a better person.
That's amazing.
You see, Koyczan's poetry helps me overcome my depression, not by trying to make it right, but by redirecting it into permissiveness. I don't agree with the argument that "Somebody has it worse than you, so cheer up," because then I feel badly that someone else is unhappy, and that's not cool. So Shane's stories don't make me happier in a comparative sense. Instead, they help me to know that sadness is part of who I am--he shows me this by example.
If you watched all the linked videos above, not only did you just spend nearly an hour listening to some amazing poetry, but you'll also get a sense of what I'm talking about (I hope). And I think there's a lot to be said about the idea that it's okay to be sad. I mean no disrespect to President Nelson, but his last talk at the General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints didn't make me feel particularly joyful or happy. Few things do, and almost all that do involve iambic pentameter or a rhyme scheme, so I don't really hold him responsible for not addressing me specifically. I think what I'm most often looking for is one area in which I don't have to feel guilty about how I'm feeling--not that it's all going to be okay, but that it's okay that I am who I am, even though that can be hard.
Though I have to wonder why an atheist Canadian does more to help my heart than the leader of my Church. Maybe if President Nelson dropped some rhymes at the mic come April...
---
* So you know, some of his poetry has strong language, as well as swearing.
But assuming his poetry is autobiographical, I think it's fair to say that he's had a pretty rough life. Yet his stories are filled with hope, his words with wisdom, and his warm voice with a fatigued but familiar friendliness that holds me when I'm lonely and no one else's arms are nearby to shrug into. And it got me thinking about the marvel of what it is to be so connected, and how much I owe to two Canadian grandparents, one from pre-war Austria, who did their best to raise a young man with a darkness in his soul that he wished to exorcise. Their hard work to raise Shane has, indirectly, led to the life of a guy in Utah Valley being improved, helped, and brightened. Thanks to the internet, I learned of some poetry that I could never have experienced otherwise. Because of their love for their grandson, I am a better person.
That's amazing.
You see, Koyczan's poetry helps me overcome my depression, not by trying to make it right, but by redirecting it into permissiveness. I don't agree with the argument that "Somebody has it worse than you, so cheer up," because then I feel badly that someone else is unhappy, and that's not cool. So Shane's stories don't make me happier in a comparative sense. Instead, they help me to know that sadness is part of who I am--he shows me this by example.
If you watched all the linked videos above, not only did you just spend nearly an hour listening to some amazing poetry, but you'll also get a sense of what I'm talking about (I hope). And I think there's a lot to be said about the idea that it's okay to be sad. I mean no disrespect to President Nelson, but his last talk at the General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints didn't make me feel particularly joyful or happy. Few things do, and almost all that do involve iambic pentameter or a rhyme scheme, so I don't really hold him responsible for not addressing me specifically. I think what I'm most often looking for is one area in which I don't have to feel guilty about how I'm feeling--not that it's all going to be okay, but that it's okay that I am who I am, even though that can be hard.
Though I have to wonder why an atheist Canadian does more to help my heart than the leader of my Church. Maybe if President Nelson dropped some rhymes at the mic come April...
---
* So you know, some of his poetry has strong language, as well as swearing.
Comments