“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”
A year ago I felt my life moving, almost seismically. I read it as the re-birth of an old journey, picking up the torch—or the pen, as it was—and rocking with this thing deep inside me. I had put it down in pursuit of more technical skills, finalizing career aspirations and such. When you come here with something it will only be ignored for a time and then it busts through all barriers, real or imagined, and stands prominently at the forefront to force you to acknowledge it and nurture it. We can continue to ignore if we choose, but we’ve seen how that works out. I give you Whitney Houston.
I had all these ideas brewing, and still do, but managed not to pay attention to the other movement taking place inside me. Lately I’ve been having allergic reactions to damn near everything happening around me. I have a general feeling of “over it!” right now. The people, the places, the things. I know these routines and I realize that there’s so much that I do practically in my sleep. That’s a problem. There are aspects of my life that I don’t even feel I should be awake for. Beyond it being a problem, it’s fuckin’ scary.
So, something’s gotta give. I know the give is going to be in my address. It doesn’t feel like dissatisfaction with the side of town I’m on. I’m cool over here. I need to be somewhere else, learning some new routes to and fro. I need to be someplace where I’m forced to book flights to visit my family. My fears? I’ve already got family [& friends] I have to fly to get to and don’t. They live in places I don’t want to be in or in ways I don’t want to be a direct part of. I also recognize that I have certain needs that MUST be met. I need access to the arts. I must be able to go see theater, not no chit’lin circuit stage plays, and take regular African dance classes with a teacher worth the fee. I must be near places that offer some cultural input. I need to live in a city that has an African-American male population that isn’t majority homosexual. I’m not discriminating, but as a hetero female, it would just be pointless to be living on such an island. I need to be somewhere that my traveling friends wouldn’t mind touching down at. No point in using frequent flier miles to sit up in my living room watching cable or going to the lounge/pub on the Polack side of town. Restaurant Week can't be where I get a book of coupons in my mailbox to the 3 Chinese Take-out spots. There are a few other things but you get the point.
As I accept that my life is driving me to drive away from Chocolate City, I have to face a few other fears. My child will be 13 this year. I don’t want to be away from her, leaving the role of Go-to to
Yes, I’m scared, but I think the unknown is calling me because the known has lulled me right to sleep. Now, to figure out where to go and when to go there.
*deep breath...bowing my head in reverence...prayin on it*
Watch me move.