In the Flow
Living in Gratitude
Heading into AWP this year, I couldn’t help but think about the last time I attended. My last AWP experience was 2018. The conference was in Tampa, Florida, and Kitchen Table Literary Arts represented like a street team. We—Slam Anderson, Silk-Jazmyne Hindus, and me—took pictures with e’rbody! We handed out KTLA calendars and journals, we stopped by tables introducing ourselves and what we do. I was on a three panels, read work at two off-site events, and live-Tweeted/live-Instagrammed the Cave Canem reading at USF.
Even though I was able to go home and get in my own bed at the end of each day, I didn’t rest. Wired and inspired, I pushed myself past my limit each day of the conference. When AWP ended, I came down with a nasty cold, and it may not be totally related, but by the end of the year, I was on my way to the worst health year of my life in 2019.
As I got prepared for AWP this year, I reflected on that 2018 AWP. How I exhausted myself. How I pushed myself. Then, I thought about all the AWPs I’d been to, going all the way back to the first one I attended as a graduate student at Columbia College, way back in 2007. Hungry, wide-eyed, and nearly broke, I worked the Book Fair table and went to as many panels and off-site events I could. In the years that followed, and without the college sponsorship, I went whenever I could afford it (2009, 2011, 2012, 2016, 2017), and I would show up much the same. A bit more confident each year, I kept upping the ante with panels and readings. Working to be on the scene. Working to see and be seen.
This year though, I approached things differently. I attended AWP 2023 with the intention to be in the flow. I’m talking attraction not chasing, I’m talking Divine Timing, I’m talking what’s for me and who’s for me will not pass me by. It was easier than I thought to stand in this intention for two reasons:
I’m over forty now, so I be tireder than a mug.
Living in gratitude is my favoritest thing.
To put it simply, AWP in Seattle was beautiful. The same kind of beautiful of all the previous AWPs, but with an important shift. I wasn’t perpetually exhausted. I wasn’t anxious about who I’d meet and who I might miss. Now, I was tired, trust. The three hour time difference was real! But, I wasn’t worn out. I wasn’t pushing. I wasn’t pressured.
The panels to which I contributed went better than well. The panels I attended had me taking notes, laughing, and even crying—Remica, that Furious Flower joint tho?!? I heard work from some of my favorite poets on the planet (Buy Patricia Smith’s new book, like, NOW.), visited the Northwest African American Museum, ate good, slept good, and felt good every day.
All with ease. All with gratitude. All in the flow.
I saw so many people I love—sometimes meeting them for the first time in person (I see you Porch and Story Studio Chicago Fam!)—and so many people I’ll be in love with soon. My spirit got shook loose and lifted. My commitment to craft and community deepened.
I feel so fortunate to do this work, to be a writer. I feel so thankful for my life.
To everyone I (re)connected with, THANK YOU. To everyone I missed this time around, share with me the belief that we’ll connect right on time.
To all the writers who feel called to this work, to this writer’s life, whether working on your first or next book, trying to get published, hoping for an agent, looking for community, I invite you to join me in holding and keeping sacred the words of Dr. Joanne Gabbin, who during the tribute to Furious Flower and celebration of her incredible work said, “if you do the right thing for the right reasons, all you have to do is show up for your part.”
