Discovering Shel Silverstein as an Adult Changed my Life
Hint: I will not mention The Giving Tree
I discovered Shel Silverstein at the ripe age of 28.
I was at Moe’s bookstore in Berkeley when I came across Where the Sidewalk Ends. As I flipped through it casually, a poem pierced through my heart with an immediacy I’d seldom experienced.
I was at a point in my life where I’d just achieved a major life goal — graduating with a masters degree from my dream university.
Surprisingly, graduating didn’t make me feel elated. Instead, I felt oddly deflated.
Silverstein’s poem, The Search, helped me make sense of my feelings:
I went to find the pot of gold
That’s waiting where the rainbow ends.
I searched and searched and searched and searched
And searched and searched, and then —
There it was, deep in the grass
Under the old and twisty bough,
It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine at last,
What do I search for now?
No philosophy book or self-help book could have communicated the nature of happiness better. After all, anyone who’s found the metaphorical pot of gold will tell you that the pursuit’s where the real joy lies.
Here’s another poem called Masks, that feels timeless:
She had blue skin,
And so did he.
He kept it hid
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by,
And never knew.
As adults, our masks can begin to feel like our faces. We hide more and more of who we are as we grow older don’t we? What would happen if we risked letting our blue skin show? Would we finally find true connection? I still don many masks, but once in a while, thanks to Shel, I remind myself to let my skin show.
As someone raised on a constant diet of “you shouldn’t go out alone after 8 p.m.” or “no woman in our family has ever..”, this poem breathed life into me:
Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me —
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.
These words immediately crack open a window into a world of endless possibilities, creativity, and free thinking, don’t they?
I have been thinking about skin color a lot these days (who isn’t?). About how profoundly one’s skin color impacts one’s life. About how it reduces some people and elevates others.
Hear what Shel Silverstein has to say, in his poem, Colors from Everything On It.
My skin is kind of sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white.
My eyes are greyish blueish green,
But I’m told they look orange in the night.
My hair is reddish blondish brown,
But it’s silver when it’s wet.And all the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yet.
I thought about this poem before I went to protest the barbaric murder of George Floyd. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go outside during a pandemic and be part of a large crowd. However, these words made me realize that I needed to honor all the colors that George was on the inside.
Understanding this world can be a challenge, even (especially?) as an adult. I find that children’s books are able to explain the vagaries, absurdities, and the paradoxes of life better than any book meant for adults. Books for adults have too many ossified ideas to be an honest account of the confusion that one feels well into adulthood.
The more one stares at words, the more they seem to be just mental models of abstract concepts that somehow we’ve all collectively agreed to be real. As a software architect, I often have to articulate the difference between, say, a notification, an event and an alert. The more I focus on these differences, the more quickly they seem to vanish.
Words are elusive. Our feelings and convictions about our world are as well. When people like Shel Silverstein acknowledge this chaos, we feel truly seen.
Personally, I have found immense wisdom and solace in Shel Silverstein’s words.
Hope you do too!
