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Maggie Smith
This podcast is supported by Viking, committed to exploring the world in comfort. Journey through the heart of Europe on an elegant Viking longship with thoughtful service, destination focused dining and cultural enrichment on board and on shore. And every Viking voyage is all inclusive with no children and no casinos. Discover more@viking.com hi, it's Maggie.
For the next two weeks of episodes, friend of the show Samia Bashir will be sharing poems with you every morning. I'll be back in the host chair on February 18th.
Samia Bashir
I'm Samia Bashir and this is the Slowdown.
The other day a friend of mine was caught in a transportation holdup. Her train was stuck, then rerouted. Her journey was about to get a.
Lot longer and more circuitous.
My response to her then, which rather miraculously, she found helpful, was to make it an adventure. Our most important journeys often take us.
Through vistas that we hadn't couldn't even.
Imagine when we took our first steps. Leaning into adventure forces us to embrace uncertainty.
Sometimes we have to follow the road where it goes. Sometimes paving a new road is the only way to reach our intended destination. Either way, where we land might not look like we thought it would. Either way, we are unlikely to arrive as the same person we were when our journey began.
Today's poem takes us into the adventure.
Of discovery, which, it turns out, is rarely simple, even when we are at our most prepared, even when when we think we're sure what we're going to find. Diving into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich first, having read the Book of Myths and loaded the camera and checked the edge of the knife blade, I put on the body armor of black rubber, the absurd flippers, the grave and awkward mask. I am having to do this. Not like Cousteau with his assiduous team aboard the sun flooded schooner, but here alone there is a ladder. The ladder is always there, hanging innocently close to the side of the schooner. We know what it is used for, we who have used it. Otherwise it is a piece of maritime floss, some sundry equipment. I go down, rung after rung, and still the oxygen immerses me, the blue light, the clear atoms of our human air. I go down. My flippers cripple me. I crawl like an insect down the ladder and there is no one to tell me when the ocean will begin. First the air is blue and then it is bluer, and then green and then black. I am blacking out and yet my mask is powerful. It pumps my blood with power. The sea is another story. The sea is not a question of power I have to learn alone to turn my body without force in the deep element. And now it is easy to forget what I came for among so many who have always lived here, swaying their crenelated fans between the reefs. And besides, you breathe differently down here. I came to explore the wreck. The words are purposes, the words are maps. I came to see the damage that was done and the treasures that prevail. I stroke the beam of my lamp slowly along the flank of something more permanent than fish or weed. The thing I came for the wreck and not the story of the wreck, the thing itself and not the myth. The drowned face always staring toward the sun, the evidence of damage worn by salt and sway into this threadbare beauty, the ribs of the disaster curving their assertion among the tentative haunters. This is the place and I am here. The mermaid whose dark hair streams black, the merman in his armored body. We circle silently about the wreck. We dive into the hold. I am she. I am he whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes, whose breasts still bear the stress, whose silver copper fur mail cargo lies obscurely inside barrels half wet, wedged and left to rot. We are the half destroyed instruments that once held to a course, the water eaten log, the fouled compass. We are, I am, you are by cowardice or courage the one who find our way back to this scene carrying a knife, a camera, a book of myths in which our names do not appear. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation.
To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram, lodownshow and blueskylowdownshow.org this week's episodes of the Slowdown were written by me, Samia Bashir. The Slowdown's regular host is Maggie Smith. Our lead producer is Micah Kielbon, and our associate producer is Maria Wurtel. Our music is composed by Kyle Andrews, engineering by Josh Savageau, Derek Ramirez and Gary o'. Keefe. Our editor and digital producer is Jordan Turgeon. Additional production help by Susanna Sharpless, Ruby.
Sigmund and Lauren Humpert.
APM's Director of Distribution is Amy Lundgren and our president is Chandra Kavati.
Maggie Smith
Maggie here host of the Slowdown. Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times. You can help keep these moments of poetry and reflection going by making a gift today. Visit slowdownshow.org donate.
Episode 1451: Diving into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich
Host: Samia Bashir (guest hosting for Maggie Smith)
Date: February 6, 2026
In this episode, guest host Samia Bashir guides listeners into Adrienne Rich’s seminal poem, “Diving into the Wreck.” The episode explores the metaphorical journey of discovery, confronting myth vs. reality, and how the adventures we undertake—intentional or unexpected—transform us. Bashir sets the stage by reflecting on the uncertainty of personal journeys, then reads Rich’s poem in full, highlighting its meditations on preparation, vulnerability, and facing the core truths beneath the surface.
Samia Bashir [01:23]:
Samia Bashir [01:35]:
Adrienne Rich (recited by Bashir) [03:24]:
Adrienne Rich (recited by Bashir) [04:22]:
Adrienne Rich (recited by Bashir) [05:15]:
This episode uses personal reflection and Rich’s authoritative text to illuminate the universal struggle of truth-seeking amidst life’s ambiguous journeys. By pairing a contemporary situation with a literary classic, Bashir emphasizes that our attempts to find meaning—through myth, memory, or confrontation with the “wreck”—are deeply real and transformative, marking us whether we arrive where we intended or not.