Ellen Austin-Li‘s work appears in many journals and anthologies. Finishing Line Press published her poetry collections, Firefly (2019) and Lockdown: Scenes From Early in the Pandemic (2021). Ellen holds an MFA in poetry and lives in Cincinnati, Ohio.
What past event do you often reflect upon, and how did that event change you?
When I was twenty, I nearly died in a car accident. Even though my drunk driving caused the crash, it took me another twenty years to get sober. Overwhelming shame allowed me to deny a profound truth about myself for many years. Now, I reflect on the long life I’ve been granted since then, and I’m grateful that I’ve learned to use adversity as an opportunity to grow and serve others. I am a survivor. Whenever I’m doubtful of my life’s accomplishments, I remember that everything that’s happened since I survived that accident is a gift –– all of my experiences, and especially my children.
How does your work add to the quality of your life?
I started writing nearly ten years into my sobriety. Writing became an essential tool for me to process my past and live in the present. Recovery requires attention to the moment, and the craft of writing demands this quiet observation of both the internal and external worlds. My writing focuses on poetry, which encapsulates this slowdown into smaller parcels than prose projects. Poetry allows me to shift between subjects quickly to capture life’s immediacy. Observing the world in detail –– the cardinal’s scarlet flash among the evergreens –– takes me outside of myself. Creating poetry puts me on a path toward greater empathy.
Tell us a story you would like to share with the world.
When I was young, I had multiple plantar warts on the soles of my feet. The dermatologist gave my mother a succession of topical treatments –– salicylic acid pads and some mysterious medicinal concoction to soak my feet in every night. Nothing worked. Finally, an appointment was scheduled for me to have them removed. I’ll never forget waking up that summer morning to birdsong and looking at the bottom of my feet. The warts had disappeared overnight! My 96-year-old mother still mentions this with wonder.
Grace enters my life, time and again. I earned my MFA in poetry at age 63. Living sober taught me many lessons –– we need never stop growing is one of the most important ones.
Author photo: Suz Fleming
Side bar image: Pixabay/Edar
