The seeds were planted this weekend. In the elevator, I was talking to our neighbor who mentioned taking her daughter back to law school. The little one who used to cower when she saw anyone. And walking the streets in my neighborhood, I couldn't help but look at the people my age pushing strollers and having genteel conversation over sophisticated dinners. Maybe I played dodgeball with one or two I crossed paths with. But whoever they may be, everyone has kept moving. My childhood friends, college friends, work colleagues. They keep going. And here I am still.
So what happened? There was so much promise and determination at one point. When the life I had constructed began to break down, I don't think I ever recovered. And I also didn't realize I was breaking down either. My father's turbulent end with his job followed by his subsequent stroke were blows to the Huxtable aura I had given our family. When nothing made sense, I didn't make sense. And I haven't since.
It hasn't been a complete waste of time. I have been learning a lot about myself. And what is really important. Over this time, I did do the courageous thing and reached out to my sister. And I've been trying to build up my friendships. But still I have not taken much action. These morsels just come to me though and I am lucky enough to be cognizant of their occurrence and take note. But I've just been lucky.
And I don't want to be lucky. I am sure I am blessed and highly favored but I want to capitalize on the blessing. Every time I visit Posh, I leave inspired by her and just the simple interactions with her circles of friends. Yet my impetus fizzles out eventually. Every so often my sojourns to the city inspire me to return, to excel. Slowly, surely, the drive drains from me in time.
Truth be told, I think I am just scared. I can get frustrated and say that I am not living up to my abilities and change needs to come. But I'm comfortable enough. The forgotten verses of the African American National Anthem include "Stony the road we trod; bitter the chastening rod." But if you don't go down that road you still get beat, but the rod is dull. You learn to tolerate that pain. Maybe even flourish slightly in spite of it. It's not the way to live though. If there is going to be pain, why not make the most of it? Why not be in control of it? Know how to manage it? Actually use it to become stronger.
I think I have been in despair because I felt like I lost myself. In truth I don't think that entity was ever defined. My life was a series of events stitched together, moments to be experienced. I didn't live. I didn't take from the experience. And I really didn't contribute either. So now this is not about reclamation; this is about discovery. The me I love unconditionally, the place I feel most comfortable and most challenged, cause challenge is my friend now.
I know I need help. This will be a continuous process. It has to be considering how much is at stake. The humility will be the hardest part. And losing the idea that he has to be perfect and in my time. That's slowed me down too. It just has to happen but I have to do my part. And when I get distressed that's when I will get still. Pray. Keep moving.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
