If I truly sat down to ponder my life ...
with two minutes 'round midnight to map out my road to enlightenment,
to find my great moment of contentment,
to embrace my true self
and to find my moment of release ...
maybe I would think of distant stars,
the flickering lights, like lightening bugs in the summer evening
and the childhood innocence, which associated problem solving with merely getting the bug into a glass jar,
only to later set her free to continue to service the earth in some way ...
maybe I would think of mountains
that stand side by side in harmony
like twin peaks
so large and grandiose
so impressive and yet so peaceful
and peaceful is how I would want to feel at the end of my journey from thought to thought and place to place ...
peaceful is what I'd like to feel as I spread my wings like the freed lightening bug to go out and service the world
and peace is what I'd pass on to my children,
I'd fill them with the energy of love in its highest form,
agape, and regal,
and bright with the light of the stars
and emboldened with the strength of the mountains
and I'd hope that my thoughts 'round midnight focused more on the dawn,
more on the beginnings and not endings,
more on the newness of life, of family, and friends
and then I'd welcome my next journey with the open arms of all the world
and marvel at my place in it.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Heart of the Matter
I recently wrote to a friend that I've been channeling. What I mean by channeling is that I'm taking my thoughts and combining them with thoughts of others to produce poetry. I'm also thinking of how others may feel in particular situations, and here is one such result.
The Heart of the Matter
If true love is forgiveness, then I hope that I’m forgiven …
for the harm I caused …
for the times I disappointed, the times I failed to meet expectations,
for my insensitivity
when I wasn’t there and I should have been
when I could have been there but I chose not to
when my selfishness left you alone to suffer
and when my arrogance led me to spend more time with another
If I let you down, then I’m sorry …
I can’t imagine that it’s heavier than the pressure I put on myself
I can’t imagine that it’s as tight as the stranglehold of my own pride
I hope your forgiveness is easier than me forgiving myself
I couldn’t move until I forgave myself,
I couldn’t move until I forgave you,
and I did forgive you, even when the best of me told me not to …
even when I replayed the images of your inadequacy over and over in a loop like my own personal You Tube hell,
like a track from a scratched cd,
like a bootleg video that chronicled my every heartache unedited, unscripted, unfiltered
and more associated with a lack of truthfulness to myself than anything directed at you
and true love is effort, right?
and true love is time, right?
and true love is forgiveness, right?
and “I’ve been learning to live without you, but I miss you sometimes …
the more I know the less I understand and all the things I thought I knew, I’m learning them again;
I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter
but I think it’s about forgiveness
even if you don’t love me anymore.”*
*Taken from Don Henley's "Heart of the Matter", inspired by India Arie's rendition
The Heart of the Matter
If true love is forgiveness, then I hope that I’m forgiven …
for the harm I caused …
for the times I disappointed, the times I failed to meet expectations,
for my insensitivity
when I wasn’t there and I should have been
when I could have been there but I chose not to
when my selfishness left you alone to suffer
and when my arrogance led me to spend more time with another
If I let you down, then I’m sorry …
I can’t imagine that it’s heavier than the pressure I put on myself
I can’t imagine that it’s as tight as the stranglehold of my own pride
I hope your forgiveness is easier than me forgiving myself
I couldn’t move until I forgave myself,
I couldn’t move until I forgave you,
and I did forgive you, even when the best of me told me not to …
even when I replayed the images of your inadequacy over and over in a loop like my own personal You Tube hell,
like a track from a scratched cd,
like a bootleg video that chronicled my every heartache unedited, unscripted, unfiltered
and more associated with a lack of truthfulness to myself than anything directed at you
and true love is effort, right?
and true love is time, right?
and true love is forgiveness, right?
and “I’ve been learning to live without you, but I miss you sometimes …
the more I know the less I understand and all the things I thought I knew, I’m learning them again;
I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter
but I think it’s about forgiveness
even if you don’t love me anymore.”*
*Taken from Don Henley's "Heart of the Matter", inspired by India Arie's rendition
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Pressure
Lately, I find myself thinking about the past … past relationships, friendships, jobs, and the progress that I hope that I am truly making. As optimistic as I am, as realistic as I can sometimes be, and as idealistic as my hopes and dreams appear on the surface, I too have moments filled with more questions than answers, moments filled with more confusion than balance, more chaos than order. I have the moments of doubt, of constant evaluation and reevaluation, and yes I do sometimes question some of the choices I’ve made. Although I tend to believe that there are no bad choices, just choices. I believe the choices we make whether they alter our paths with great promise or they force us into some despair, they are all a part of our unique personal experience informing our journey and leading us to our true destiny.
So when I recently hung out with some of my oldest friends, many of these friendships dating back to the 6th grade, with some going as far back as the 3rd grade, I was struck by one particular conversation. A friend asked, did I ever feel any pressure? He said you must have been under a tremendous amount of pressure because you were expected to do everything well. He said you were expected to lead.
I don’t remember thinking about the expectations growing up, but I think about them now. I don’t remember feeling a sense of pressure, but I do now. It took many years but I feel the weight now, and he was right, I was expected to do everything well, everything above board, without the common mistakes of adolescence or youthful indiscretions, no underage drinking or drugs. I’m pondering why do I feel the pressure now and not then? Are the stakes higher in adulthood? How have those youthful expectations shaped the way I view life, love, relationships, success, fun, individual freedom?
I’m sure that I will explore these topics in the future, particularly love and relationships, but the one thing that remains clear to me from this weekend’s miniature class reunion is that I’m still growing to accept myself for who I am, who I will become, and who I’ve always been. Maybe the pressure I feel now is more of a question of whether I’m disappointing myself by not living up to my full potential. Or maybe I’ve finally reached a state where I’m measuring myself by the standards of others, and I can’t ever remember doing that when I was younger.
So when I recently hung out with some of my oldest friends, many of these friendships dating back to the 6th grade, with some going as far back as the 3rd grade, I was struck by one particular conversation. A friend asked, did I ever feel any pressure? He said you must have been under a tremendous amount of pressure because you were expected to do everything well. He said you were expected to lead.
I don’t remember thinking about the expectations growing up, but I think about them now. I don’t remember feeling a sense of pressure, but I do now. It took many years but I feel the weight now, and he was right, I was expected to do everything well, everything above board, without the common mistakes of adolescence or youthful indiscretions, no underage drinking or drugs. I’m pondering why do I feel the pressure now and not then? Are the stakes higher in adulthood? How have those youthful expectations shaped the way I view life, love, relationships, success, fun, individual freedom?
I’m sure that I will explore these topics in the future, particularly love and relationships, but the one thing that remains clear to me from this weekend’s miniature class reunion is that I’m still growing to accept myself for who I am, who I will become, and who I’ve always been. Maybe the pressure I feel now is more of a question of whether I’m disappointing myself by not living up to my full potential. Or maybe I’ve finally reached a state where I’m measuring myself by the standards of others, and I can’t ever remember doing that when I was younger.
Friday, March 7, 2008
What I Learned
This is for my mentor and friend Tariq Shakoor. Wishing him well as he retires from his years of service to Emory. Enjoy
What I learned about Blackness, I learned in part from you.
The complexity and the contradiction
The tension between self and group
The escape from the narrow definitions to form a unique understanding
The escape from the “box” of those content to socially and mentally control
The nuances of militancy and restraint
The belief of the warrior and that of the peacemaker
What I learned about Blackness, I learned in part from you.
The brink of brilliance teetering on insanity
The conservative and the compassionate
Dogged determination and unimaginable resolve with
Raw, unbridled emotion tempered inside the pinstriped suit of perfect decorum
I learned culture and difference
I learned beauty and understanding
I learned passion and I discovered my voice
I learned to accept and to appreciate myself
What I learned about Manhood, I learned in part from you.
The strength of leadership
The responsibility of the great weight
The value of struggle
The wonders of reward
The wisdom of recognition
The conviction to stand
What I learned about Manhood, I learned in part from you.
The control of fear
The willingness to be accountable
The beauty in vulnerability
and it’s not easy to accept ownership for all and for self,
it’s not easy to carry the burden the talented 10th must bear …
but I learned it because you lived “it”
because you were “it”, because you are “it” … a singular version of real Black Manhood, a descendant of royal blood lines, a bearer of a throne of grace …
My role model, my guide, my friend …
What I learned in life, I learned in part because of you.
What I learned about Blackness, I learned in part from you.
The complexity and the contradiction
The tension between self and group
The escape from the narrow definitions to form a unique understanding
The escape from the “box” of those content to socially and mentally control
The nuances of militancy and restraint
The belief of the warrior and that of the peacemaker
What I learned about Blackness, I learned in part from you.
The brink of brilliance teetering on insanity
The conservative and the compassionate
Dogged determination and unimaginable resolve with
Raw, unbridled emotion tempered inside the pinstriped suit of perfect decorum
I learned culture and difference
I learned beauty and understanding
I learned passion and I discovered my voice
I learned to accept and to appreciate myself
What I learned about Manhood, I learned in part from you.
The strength of leadership
The responsibility of the great weight
The value of struggle
The wonders of reward
The wisdom of recognition
The conviction to stand
What I learned about Manhood, I learned in part from you.
The control of fear
The willingness to be accountable
The beauty in vulnerability
and it’s not easy to accept ownership for all and for self,
it’s not easy to carry the burden the talented 10th must bear …
but I learned it because you lived “it”
because you were “it”, because you are “it” … a singular version of real Black Manhood, a descendant of royal blood lines, a bearer of a throne of grace …
My role model, my guide, my friend …
What I learned in life, I learned in part because of you.
Monday, February 18, 2008
A Quick Note on Friendship
I have a few unfinished posts that I am still working on but I had a quick note a friendship that I felt compelled to share. The Almighty placed and continues to place wonderful people around me. I've always had incredible influences in my life and the wonderful thing about the majority of these relationships is that time hasn't lessened them. Of course we don't talk as frequently as we'd like and our lives don't always afford us an opportunity to see one another with regularity, but the true friendships endure and evolve. Like great music, they are timeless and universal.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Yes We Can
It is said that, “the friends you make in college are the friends you make for life.” I have often commented that I have the best friends in the world and many of them just so happen to be from my college years. When I sat down to write today I began thinking of college and of Michell’s birthday. I thought of Super Tuesday and my first time voting as a college freshman. I am thinking of all these things that are connecting points between old and new, bridges if you will, between the hopes of your youth and the reality of adulthood. I am thinking of how I felt at a Bill Clinton Presidential campaign rally in 1992 and now what I feel when I listen to Barack Obama speak. In 1992, I felt like young people could be a part of a movement to change the status quo, it felt like our generation could embrace the political process and make a difference. We did, as we sent Bill Clinton to office, we saw an incredible time of peace and prosperity. I’m not naïve enough to suggest that it had everything to do with Bill Clinton, but I am conscious enough to realize that a leader can make a difference in how you feel about yourself, and with positive thoughts of self one can go out and make a difference. I believe that Barack Obama is inspiring the same type of feeling in Americans and particularly in young Americans.
I went to South Carolina to volunteer for the Obama campaign. Not since the Clinton years have I been inspired enough to truly participate in a Presidential campaign. As we arrived in Columbia, SC and stopped by the campaign headquarters, the place was abuzz with young people and older people, and if you’ve been to an Obama event or seen one on television, you will see an oasis of colors, not just Black people because this campaign is truly representative of so much more. We barely got into the Performing Arts Center on the campus of the University of South Carolina. We sat on the last row, and in front of us was a couple with their four children. The smallest was a baby boy that the father bounced on his shoulders. The couple, a Black woman and a White male, a couple indicative of what our future will ultimately look more like - a future that will make these distinctions between race virtually obsolete. I thought of my friend Doug, a White male, and his beautiful Indian wife. I thought of my god children, born to a Black mother and a White father serving his country in the United States Military and I thought of hope, and as this campaign goes on and my involvement continues to increase I continue to think of change and the hope for change, and at some point I recognized that I am a believer. I believe in this change. Yes we can change things and make a difference.
When I’m out on Tuesday working on behalf of the Obama campaign for voter protection and the preservation of this sacred right, this right that so many died for us to have, I will remember what it was like in the voting booth the first time I voted and the awesome responsibility I felt in enjoying the privilege. I will remember the hope I felt as a young adult and I will think about the hope that I feel now, trusting that the rest of the American electorate feels the way I do … that you’re either a part of the problem or you’re a part of the solution. If you’re reading this, I hope that you choose to be a part of the solution by exercising your right to vote.
I went to South Carolina to volunteer for the Obama campaign. Not since the Clinton years have I been inspired enough to truly participate in a Presidential campaign. As we arrived in Columbia, SC and stopped by the campaign headquarters, the place was abuzz with young people and older people, and if you’ve been to an Obama event or seen one on television, you will see an oasis of colors, not just Black people because this campaign is truly representative of so much more. We barely got into the Performing Arts Center on the campus of the University of South Carolina. We sat on the last row, and in front of us was a couple with their four children. The smallest was a baby boy that the father bounced on his shoulders. The couple, a Black woman and a White male, a couple indicative of what our future will ultimately look more like - a future that will make these distinctions between race virtually obsolete. I thought of my friend Doug, a White male, and his beautiful Indian wife. I thought of my god children, born to a Black mother and a White father serving his country in the United States Military and I thought of hope, and as this campaign goes on and my involvement continues to increase I continue to think of change and the hope for change, and at some point I recognized that I am a believer. I believe in this change. Yes we can change things and make a difference.
When I’m out on Tuesday working on behalf of the Obama campaign for voter protection and the preservation of this sacred right, this right that so many died for us to have, I will remember what it was like in the voting booth the first time I voted and the awesome responsibility I felt in enjoying the privilege. I will remember the hope I felt as a young adult and I will think about the hope that I feel now, trusting that the rest of the American electorate feels the way I do … that you’re either a part of the problem or you’re a part of the solution. If you’re reading this, I hope that you choose to be a part of the solution by exercising your right to vote.
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