Heart to Heart

Tonight, I had one of the best conversations that I have ever had with my dad. He had been watching a show in which there was a lot of talk about abuse. He said that he didn’t realize that so many people suffered abuse growing up. He asked me and my sister whether we thought that we had been abused growing up.

We both said no, but I also said that things weren’t good growing up either. Specifically, I recalled how things were often unpleasant and that sometimes I didn’t want to come home. That was part of my motivation for doing so many things at school as I grew up. In sum, I said that things just should have been better and that we never really worked as a team until now (for his crisis).

What was so cool to me about the conversation is that we talked honestly, openly, and without reservations about how we really felt about life and our place in life. This is really rare for us. And it was truly refreshing to be able to speak my mind and my heart about the state of our lives. I also realize that he was making a real effort to understand himself at the core of his being and to make sense of some of his experience.

I hope that I heard him release some of the pain, anger, and hurt that he has been carrying around all of these years. I think most of all that he is realizing that he isn’t responsible for my choices or the choices of my siblings. I hope that he realizes that I don’t hate him or think that he is a bad person despite our past conflicts.

I think that all of this is really important for him because I believe (not a word I use lightly or often) that this stroke is linked to his life-long emotional state. My dad grew up hard and he had to struggle to get anywhere in life. He had to become the man of the house early and most of his existence has been geared toward survival. Enjoyment, pleasure, and self-indulgence have never played a large role in his life as I have seen him. He has been denied a lot of success and advancement based on circumstances beyond his control. He is a tough guy and has spent most of his 75 years grinding it out, not showing emotion, and ignoring obvious pain. Basically, he has played the role of manhood that he learned coming up.

The last stroke that he suffered left him paralyzed on his right side. He can’t walk and he can’t really take care of himself. I have to give my sister props. She has taken the lead and been there for him every day since we brought him home. I know that she is tired but she is keeping it going. I do as much as I can to help out.

The thing that we have noticed is, when he is asleep, his arm and leg move on their own like they are ready to come back to him. I think that somehow the Universe is forcing him to face himself and his life. He has to let go of his pain to get everything back. It is a hard thing to do, especially when you have been forced all of your life to focus on survival. Tonight may have been a first true step toward letting go.

I hope that I am right and that he will come back to full functionality soon.

As I said, I felt really good about having that talk and I feel hopeful that he is on the way to a better state of mind. I also realized upon reflection and I feel it as I write right now that all of the hurt and grudges that I have felt are gone. I don’t need them and they were bullshit from the start. I feel like this is one of the best gifts I have ever received. Maybe some of the lessons that I have been trying to learn are finally starting to sink in. I hope that I can maintain that realization.

I am beginning to understand what one of my favorite philosophers Robert Anton Wilson was saying when he stated that life without forgiveness isn’t worth living. I think that maybe I am realizing the wisdom in his thought just a little bit.

Facing My Dishonesty

I thought that I had avoided it. I made a true effort to avoid it at all costs. I think that all of that avoidance helped me to run straight into it; straight into fundamental, personal dishonesty. I have been building a (false) self-image in which I placed myself above certain concerns and definitions. All the while, I have been lying to myself about a lot of things that I have found less than desirable about myself and those around me. I am sure that everyone around me can see through the crap I have been throwing out there as a justification for my actions. In the end, I think that the only person that I have been fooling is me.

For a long time I have sought to deny certain character traits that I now find I would have been much better off embracing. Here is an example. While I am typically laid back, there is a certain amount of aggressiveness to my personality. It comes through in the way that I argue or state my case. I go for the throat and I don’t suffer fools readily. I am sure that everyone around me sees that I don’t hide my emotions well when I am ticked off. I try to avoid admitting this but I am only hiding those traits from myself.

I admit that I have a temper that I have spent a long time trying to control. I have assiduously avoided going off because I don’t know where it will lead or how far I will go. While it keeps me from being incarcerated or from being sued, it doesn’t necessarily bode well for my health or sense of balance. Sometimes to regain balance, I need to let go and release the pressure that is constantly building inside. There just don’t seem to be a lot of things that I can or want to do to channel this energy. I guess that is all part of my struggle.

I have had to admit to myself that there are certain people in my life that I need to let go. They are triggers for strife, anger, resentment, and sometimes hatred. No good can come of any interaction with them. They represent too much that I consider painful and flat out anathema to my existence. No amount of forgiveness or understanding that I can generate will change them, or, more accurately, how I choose to react to them. They have shaped their world the way they see fit and I have shaped mine as I see fit. The two opposing world views are the source of stress which has probably shaved years off of my life; continuing with this conflict is unacceptable. Better to move forward that continue to wallow in the conflict.

I am not sure why I have spent so long trying to avoid admitting that I am human and thus imperfect. (It is the imperfection that creates the adventure that is life and growth.) I have watched a lot of other people go through the same type of thing where they don’t realize that they are trying to hide things from themselves. Or worse yet, they compound their problems by consciously trying to disassociate themselves from their own dark sides. It all leads to no good. Ultimately, it all becomes an ever deepening hole.

Somehow, I have to surrender to a greater reality or a greater sense of Self. I have to accept all of me, even the nasty chunks that I have chosen to try to hide unsuccessfully from the world. I am only denying and confusing myself because I have realized that those that chose to be around me can see through me. Though I can wish to the contrary, I have no special talent for subterfuge. Although I can sometimes lay down a pretty good layer of bullshit from time to time, I am discovering that even that takes too much time and energy. Slowly, and with a great deal of effort, I think that I can allow myself to be just me for better or worse.

Being Thankful for the Little Things

Here is my obligatory Thanksgiving post:

Over the last few days, I have been able to do some very simple and basic things. I treated a friend and myself to burritos. I put new batteries in a couple of watches; now I can wear my watches for the first time in a couple of years. I bought a few DVD’s for my daughter to help her learn to read. I renewed a piece of licensure that I let lapse months ago. I bought three books on subjects that interest me.

What is so special about all of these things, you may ask? Anyone should be able to do them easily. Well, I couldn’t do these things a few weeks ago without someone’s help. I was able to do everything under my own steam and it means the world to me. It feels good to just be able to get some small personal things done for myself without anyone else’s input.

I never knew how important it was to me to be able to take care of little things until I lost the capability. Now it is like the first warm day in spring. I really can’t overestimate how it makes me feel or how grateful that I am for the opportunity to do it. Sometimes, even the smallest taste of freedom or room to maneuver is enough to change your perspective and make you feel enthusiastic about life.

Real Friendship

With the exception of sunshine, great sex, oxygen, innocent children, brisket, and a few other things that I have failed to remember, friendship is about the best thing in the world. Friendship is all the more special to me because it is something in which people choose to participate. People chose to show each other love respect and all of the other things that make friendships great.

The last few years have shown me what true friendship is. I have always tried to be the type friend that I wanted to have. I have tried to keep my word and provide unquestioning and unwavering support for those that I call my friends. I have prided myself on my honesty, loyalty, and dependability – all of the good, old-fashioned things that the average Boy Scout is told to believe.

Despite my efforts to display the character traits that I value, a lot of my efforts have gone unappreciated and without reciprocation. To be honest, a lot of people that I thought were friends have left me high and dry without any form of consideration or explanation. In addition, I don’t think that I have ever truly learned how to accept help in a way that is palatable to me or those offering help.

Much of my experience has left me with a sour taste in my mouth. I have come to realize, much to my disappointment, that the average person will let you down in a heartbeat. I don’t think that it is from some ingrained sense of malice. Most people just don’t fully consider the consequences or impact of their actions or inactions. Of course, I could be naïve and full of myself.

Anyway, I am not going to use this post to put people down or drag anyone through the mud. In fact, I am going to do the opposite. A few people have stuck by me through this extremely trying period in my life. They have given me encouragement and talked me down from the edge on a few occasions. I can say without shame or hyperbole that they have helped to save me from myself.

One friend in particular has taken the time to put me in a position where I can begin to reclaim some of my physical life. I can’t begin to describe how good it has felt to be able to do some things for myself without the help or permission of those around me. It’s like fresh, clean air to a man who was suffocating. Without reservation, anything that this person needs is theirs for the asking, up to and including burying bodies.

I hope that anyone who stumbles across my blog can find themselves a few really good friends that can help to pull them through hard time the way my friends have helped me.

Shifting Gears

Since I started this blog, I have been exposing my shortcomings and problems to the light of day in order to change and heal myself. I have put my thoughts and feelings on display so that I can take a more thorough look at what ails me. I have needed, for a long time, to take a closer, more honest look at what makes me tick and what ticks me off. I think that I have had some success and made some progress toward identifying where I have been going wrong or where I have mislead or misdirected myself.

While identifying problems and counterproductive situations is useful, identification is not enough. Identification doesn’t move me closer to solutions and better ways of doing things. So for a while, at least, I am going to shift gears to try and figure out how to better approach my life. If I am truly lucky, put in some real work, and remain vigilant, I may just come out the better for it.

The more I think back and reflect on what I have written and felt and what I have experienced, the more sure I am that solutions to many of the problems that I face are contained in the questions that I ask. That is not always the case. Yet more often than not, the question, especially how it is phrased, leads me to an answer; hopefully the best answer for me.

One of the most dominant recurring themes that I see in my experience is self sabotage, whether conscious or unconscious, on many different levels. A lot of that self sabotage is due to questioning myself too much. I think that most of that is due to my internal dialogue.

I spend a lot of time arguing with myself over how things should be. Sometimes, I convince myself that I am not worthy of certain forms of success or happiness. I tell myself that I am at fault when things go wrong (many times due to things beyond my control). I even go as far as bringing negative expectations and results into positive situations.

I have had to deal with the terrible effects of this dialogue for most of my life. My conflict and struggle with my internal dialogue creates situations that are much more complex and convoluted than they should be. I have often been left with chaos and disorder that could have and should have been avoided.

I think that my first, and perhaps most difficult, order of business to change the way that I deal with my internal dialogue. I will try to deal with it on the front end instead of after the fact. Maybe by dealing with it before it causes too much destruction, I can avoid some of the mess that I have been mired in for so long. You know the old saying: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

The reason that I know how potentially difficult this might be is because I know something about a lot of the behaviors that I pursue and how those behaviors reflect some of my essential nature. I am a thinker, I am known to get lost in my thoughts and to engage in the paralysis of analysis. I have even been accused of thinking too much, whatever that means. Most of what I consider my success is due to my ability to think and analyze. Frankly, I think that I am good at thinking. And maybe my greatest strength is also my greatest weakness.

I have to spend some time and devote some effort to quieting or ignoring my inner dialogue, especially when it conflicts with my gut feelings. I think that it is like overhead or unnecessary action: it takes up space and makes me less effective and less efficient. I am not saying that I am going to stop thinking. Instead, I am going to spend less time and invest less energy on internally generated conflict. Hopefully, I can reclaim and redirect that energy toward something more useful, like being happy.

Why ask why?

Who, what, when, where, why, and how are the fundamental questions that I was taught are important to answer whenever addressing a problem or a situation. People who are concerned with getting the facts are supposed to use these questions. In most cases, they help me get to whatever goal I am pursuing providing that I am honest about wanting to reach that goal.

I recently discovered that I need to stop asking “Why?” so much. For me why is interesting, but it is also the source of a lot of frustration. I am constantly on a quest to gain metaphysical, intellectual, and practical meaning from my experiences. At some point, that is good. It helps me to appreciate my experiences and to gain insight into the world in which I live. A lot of the time, it is a counterproductive waste of time. I end up lost in the sauce contemplating things that have nothing to do with the actual experience that is going on around me. I miss out on the real value and beauty of a lot of my life.

I have found out that why is the least valuable of the fundamental questions. For me, it speaks to my curiosity and need to know, even when I don’t need to know. To borrow from one of my favorite writers, Christopher Hyatt, why becomes intellectual pornography for mental masturbation - masturbation with no payoff.

In my quest for answers, I sometimes end up giving too much weight and value to knowing why something happened or is the way it is. For example, no one questions why water is wet. It is just wet. Everyone knows and accepts this and moves on with their lives. This is the type of acceptance that I will be trying to practice on a more ongoing basis.

Asking why is not a bad thing. Little kids do it all of the time. My three year old daughter is constantly asking me why. She is doing it to build up her understanding of her world. She needs to be able to understand how to interact with her surroundings. I, on the other hand, ask why to gain an advantage over my surroundings and to apply judgment to situations and people. Maybe in some way I feel that I am in competition with someone or something and that I must gain knowledge to somehow subjugate my opponents. I still haven’t figured out what the point or payoff of this competition is.

Most of the time that I waste on trying to figure out why is simply time spent spouting conjecture. The meaning behind some thing or event or its raison d’être doesn’t change the fact that it is there and that I have to deal with it. For example, if there is a boulder blocking the path, knowing why it is there will not help you to get past it.

In summary, I am going to make an effort to not ask why so much. Instead I will dedicate more time, energy, and effort trying to figure out how I can be a better, more effective person.

Spiritual Poverty

I think that I have finally come to the question and circumstance that is central to the conflict that I have been struggling with the last few years; or maybe for my whole life. I can best summarize it by asking why I have failed to live up to my own standards materially. Why are many of the people with whom I went to school doing at least OK when I can’t begin to find a sense of accomplishment that fits my expectations of myself?

It all started when I was trying to take it easy. The other day, I was hanging out with some friends that I had not seen in years. We were going to a cigar shop to smoke a couple of nice premium cigars and drink some Scotch. We were going to meet a few other people, catch up on old times, and maybe tell a lie or two.

One of my friends asked me what I had been going on with me. Ever the smart ass, I casually remarked, “Poverty.” And he came back by saying, “You’re not poor, just broke.”

It was a nice sentiment and I agreed with him at the time. The general concept behind his response is that poverty is a spiritual condition while being broke is temporary and easily corrected. I accepted this because the general sentiment, especially in these days and times, is to keep everything positive and moving toward better things. We both implicitly understood and I agreed with him and we went forward with our good times.

That whole exchange came back to me several times over the subsequent weeks. It has gotten me to think about the concept in another light. It is great that we were trying to be positive and that he was trying to make sure that my spirits were up. I am grateful that I have friends that would take the time to try to push me in a positive direction. I am glad that there are affirmations that can help put me on the right track.

There is something else about that short exchange that bothered me. It was pop psychology; it was shallow. (I am not calling my friend shallow.) Behind that benign and cheerful sentiment for me is the possibility of something that is malignant, subtle, and almost undetectable. The thought keeps coming to me that the calling myself broke instead of poor is a clever avoidance mechanism. It allows me to gloss over the reality that I am experiencing without fully being responsible for its existence. It allows me to ignore the possibility of a malignancy that metastasizes and harms the things within me that are valuable and necessary in my struggle to build a better me.

The thing that I am really trying to wrap my head around is what it really means to be spiritually poor. Does it mean that I have made myself unworthy of happiness and success? Is there something in my character or DNA that is keeping me from what I want? Maybe there is some personal demon that I must exorcise. I don’t know.

I do know that mantras and affirmations are not enough and that they may not be truly honest. They certainly don’t do anything concrete or immediate. I am broke and I continue to be broke. What does that say about what I am doing to improve my condition? I haven’t figured out whether I am doing something detrimental to my well being or whether I am subject to forces beyond my control or comprehension. Sometimes I think that random chance alone should have brought me a better life that the one I am experiencing now.

Not honestly examining whatever this thing is gives it an opportunity to spread. Exposing it to light will kill it and free me to make a quantum leap. I fully understand that the whole process involves seeing some things that may be extremely ugly within me. But, I value freedom too much to avoid looking into the ugliness that lies at the center of my internal conflict.

Saying that I am broke instead of poor puts me in the position to hope that this situation will pass of its own accord or through some type of confluence of advantageous events. This would be great, but it depends on hope; and hope is not a legitimate strategy. Somewhere in all of this is an idea that is beyond simplistic philosophizing and affirmations that is the key to unlocking the doors that will let me exit this phase of my life.

There is something fundamental in all of this I have been missing. And I know that the issue is not really the amount money that I have. Maybe it is allowing the idea of money control how I pursue my life. I need money to do things, but it should not serve as a gauge of who I am internally.

The more questions that I ask the more questions keep popping up. Am I failing at this aspect of my life (according to my own definitions) because of who I am or how hard I work? Am I failing because I have the wrong goals? Am I really failing? Would I really be pursuing the goals that I have placed in front of myself if it weren’t for monetary concerns? What would I do if there were no expectations or pressure? What do really expect or want? What do I need to prove and why can’t I be OK with just being me? Why am I continuously asking all of these questions?

Maybe it is purely internal or some aspect of my social conditioning. Maybe I just need to pull my head out of my ass. I don’t know, yet. Somehow, I have to identify what it is that I am holding onto and hiding from myself that is stopping my progress. I have to keep digging. I just hope that I have the courage and endurance to go far enough to get to the core of myself.

Rehab Observations

Over the last six weeks, I have been helping to deal with the aftermath of my father’s last stroke. He is paralyzed on the right side of his body. He has no control over his right arm and leg and doesn’t have the balance or strength to sit up on his own. In many ways, he is helpless. He requires help to take care of many of the most basic things.

Dealing with this is sobering and humbling. I have had to fundamentally reconsider how I relate to a lot of things that I take for granted. Everyday that I wake up, I know that I will be able to push the covers aside, sit up, swing my feet to the floor, and get out of bed. I don’t know how I would take it if I couldn’t do this or a lot of other things that I do on a daily basis. I don’t know how I would take being totally dependent on others physically for my basic functionality. (Currently, I am dependent on others for some things in my life.)

Two things have come to mind that are important lessons that are a result of my father’s stroke. The first is of great personal importance: I must be much more ruthless and dedicated toward developing exceptional health. My dad was taking five or six medications for hypertension, high blood pressure, and diabetes; standard stuff in the Black community. Strokes and heart attacks are a natural outgrowth of these conditions.

I have to learn to take better care of myself be getting more exercise, eating better, and supplementing my diet with powerful, healthy super-foods. I know that this is simple and basic, and that everyone says this. This statement’s simplicity does not make it any less true or important. This experience has truly brought all of this home to me. I can’t depend on wishes, fantasy, and hope to get right. Hope is important but it is not a valid strategy. Too much of my life has been dependent on hope to change things for me. It is now time for real planning and action.

The second lesson that I have learned is less personal and more observational. For years, I thought that people of African and Caribbean descent valued their elders. Most of the staff at my dad’s rehab facility come from these backgrounds. They have terrible attitudes. They pass the buck, take their time helping people, and really don’t seem to care about anything but getting a paycheck. The only thing that I can say is that maybe we are the same everywhere.

Playing Grown Up

According to the enlightened laws of the land, I became a man at 18 years old. I probably started acting like a man at 16. I didn’t realize that I was a man until I was 28. I was functioning as a man and carrying responsibility as a man. I just never identified myself as a man in any formal way.

Like most men in this society, I never had any formal ceremony or recognition that declared me a man according to tradition. I was never informed of what my role was to be in society or what society’s expectations were of me. Like most men and boys, I stumbled around blindly trying to find my way; determining what I should be and how I should handle myself. Sometimes I was overbearing and domineering, sometimes I was too aloof and standoffish. Mostly, I tried to be true to the examples that were set by the men who were around me as I grew up.

It took a woman to make me realize what I had become and what I was becoming. The physical balance and symbolic balance that she represented were important and were what fully caught my attention. I was out at dinner with a good friend and really enjoying her company. We got into a conversation about relationships and how people act In their relationships. It’s really hard to remember the tenor of it. She told me that she really didn’t have to push me toward some type of understanding because I was a man.

It made me feel good that she said that. I didn’t go into a mode where I wanted to beat on my chest or grunt like some caveman. I just felt like after all of my struggles that I had done something right. I can’t express it any better than that. The effect that it had on me was that I began to more readily internalize and act on the things that I thought were important in my life. It also made me more cognizant of the fact that everything that I do is observed and judged, whether I want it to be or not, whether I care or not.

I have a hard time understanding people’s perceptions of me. I don’t always understand the effects of my words or actions. I try not to hurt people, but I find that I occasionally grate people the wrong way because of the way that I express myself. In this case, it was good to get direct and positive feedback about me from someone that I respect. Maybe I was actually making some personal progress.

I am coming to a sense of peace and balance about who I am. I have also come to recognize that manhood is an ongoing process that requires wisdom, restraint, and strength. It also requires a sense of personal responsibility, consistency, and honor that is not talked about enough. (Or, I might just be a little too old school for my own good.) To be honest, I am still figuring it out.

The Test

Two weeks ago, my father had a stroke. It wasn’t his first. He has had two others. For some reason, I am having a hard time getting my mind right about this one. I haven’t been myself and I know that it shows.

I have friends that are having similar problems. Their parents are experiencing health problems or crises that they weren’t at all prepared to handle. This actually seems like a common theme with the people in my life. It is probably that time in our life cycles.

With the first stroke, he was very fortunate. He didn’t take his blood pressure medicine for about a year and it caught up to him. Once he got out of the hospital, he was fine. He was up and about like nothing happened. He got the message and began to take his medications again.

The second stroke hit him about seven weeks ago. He had been taking his medication but he was not exercising. The stroke made him weak. He initially had to use a walker to get around. He started getting physical therapy and was coming along well. The therapist told him that soon he wouldn’t need the walker at all.

This last one hit him hard. It was a recurrence of the stroke he had seven weeks ago. He has lost control of his right side. He can’t walk or move around well. He has a hard time turning over and has been confined to a bed. We had to send him to a nursing home for rehab.

I never wanted to have to do that for either of my parents. I don’t even like saying nursing home in relation to either of my parents. The thing is, it is the best thing that my siblings and I could do for him. And, thankfully, he has insurance to pay for it. The facility is equipped to help him and give him the speech, physical, and occupational therapy that he needs to get his functionality back. We are also going to seek some alternative therapies like acupuncture.

I know that this is the best thing for him. I don’t have the training or expertise to do for him what he needs done. I just can’t seem to be able to get my head around it on a very basic level. There are so many things that are pulling at me about what is happening to him. It is really messing with my focus and I am having trouble handling it in a constructive way.

I didn’t do this to him. Yet in a really weird way, I feel responsible. I am going to do everything that I can to help him to get his life back. That is not in question. Yet somehow I am taking this personally at a level that is not at all good for me. I can’t figure out why.

Maybe I see a future possibility. I have struggled with my weight all of my life. Fortunately, I haven’t developed weight related problems. I have begun to take more steps toward controlling it and have found some success. I need to do more. At the same time, I know that I need to be patient with the process.

Maybe I feel guilty because I can’t do more. I don’t have a magic wand to wave over everything and make this all go away. I can’t stroke a check and get a private, highly trained staff to pamper him. He has everything that he needs to recover and I know that his recovery is up to him. Still, I feel like I haven’t done anything.

I know that part of what bothers me about this situation is that I don’t like seeing him helpless. I don’t know of any son that wasn’t abused or abandoned that wants to see his father in a situation like this. I know that my dad is not in pain, but he is suffering mentally because he feels confined. That is not something that I can work out for him.

Somewhere in all of this, there are a couple of tests. For my father, his will and resolve to recover are going to be tested over the next few weeks and months. He has to do the work and bring himself back.

For me it is a different test. I know that I have to leave here soon to move forward. I can’t let how I feel about this situation stop me from doing what I have to do. And to be honest, my dad doesn’t want me to stop. We talked a in the emergency room about me moving forward with the plans that I have been developing for myself. I know that if I don’t move forward now, I may not ever move forward. So I have to bring forward my own will and resolve to realize my goals without hurting myself with false guilt over abandoning my dad during his trials.

Identity Politics

The other day I was walking down the street with a couple of friends. We were discussing our next moves and how me were trying to move forward with our plans. Out of nowhere, gunshots rang out. We quickly figured out where they were coming from, ducked down, and moved away from their source. We started walking again and some more gunshots rang out.

After we determined that there were no more shots coming, we began again to walk down the street. As we were passing a certain house, several little, skinny, young boys came out. All of them had their pants hanging off their asses and they were talking a lot of shit. I could tell by the way they carried themselves that none of them could bust a grape in a fruit fight.

One of them had a gun in his hand, a snub nose revolver. It was the kind of gun that no matter how well it was made, it needed to be used a very close range to be effective. Every one of them looked like the kind of guys that turn their guns to the side to look tough. They don’t understand that the sights are on top for a reason. Fortunately, no one got shot. But, everyone was in danger because bullets don’t have names and addresses on them.

As I look back on the incident, I realize that I had absolutely no fear of getting hurt or of the fools that we saw trying to act tough. I am not claiming that I am some kind of tough guy. They just had absolutely no effect on me. Something about the whole situation, and those boys especially, was cartoonish and surreal. This generation of young men coming up after me doesn’t have a chance if these are its representatives.

The whole incident got me thinking about how I define myself as a Black person and how I am just lumped into a group by a process that is totally beyond my control. From a certain perspective, being Black or anything else is an accident of birth. Black consciousness is manufactured, regardless of its validity, usefulness, or necessity. Not fully understanding this, I have allowed myself, at times, to be reactionary over situations not of my choosing. I have aligned myself with people and ideologies in which I might not otherwise indulge or with which I might not agree.

I realized recently that I have very few non-Black friends, when earlier in life I had friends of all persuasions. The more I consider this, the more that I know that I don’t want to play this game by these rules any more. I can’t, in good conscious, align myself with this “thing” any more. I am choosing to be myself and choosing with whom I align myself. I can’t continue to deal with life strictly or even partly from the perspective of skin color.

A wise man once talked about being judged on the content of one’s character instead of by the color of one’s skin. That idea was really subversive and ultimately was one of the things that got him murdered. Still, the idea is beautiful and worth integrating into my life in a very real way.

I have also been looking back at my own interactions and have considered my own shortcomings. I have participated in support of and celebrations of people in my racial/ethnic group who should not have been supported or celebrated. I have defended people in arguments that should have been left alone or to their own devices. And I have allowed people to slide that I should have hemmed up or gotten away from.

I can’t waste any more time or energy on this old model. I can’t afford to support people who really wouldn’t care about me if they didn’t need me. I can’t be concerned with these con artists and users who seek a paycheck, a free ride, and reverence for the pseudo-official yet unelected positions. I just can’t be part of that any more.

Also, on a more personal level, I can’t continue to indulge in a level of inclusiveness that borders on self destructive. I can’t unconsciously be swept up in identifications with people that I would not want in my neighborhood. I also can’t let others define what I identify as my causes based on group-think, assumptions, and faulty reasoning. Supporting without question anything just because it has Black on it isn’t worth doing anymore.

When I look around at other so-called races or ethnic groups, they never hesitate to distance themselves from members of their groups that display inappropriate behavior. I have seen White people that are quick to call other White people "redneck" or "white trash" in public without fear of a fire storm. They are totally unafraid of disavowing or ostracizing someone from their groups when they deem it appropriate.

When I compare the outward behavior of different racial groups, I have seen no other group besides Black people that cringes at the thought of someone that they don’t know and may never meet reflects badly on the group. Somewhere in all of that is a misplaced sense of responsibility. Black folks get lumped together without their consent and profiled in all of their interactions. That doesn’t mean that I have to like it or bow to participating in it. I would prefer to analyze the situation and act or react accordingly.

At the core of all of this, I think that I am in transition. I feel that I am moving to a state that many people in the next generation have attained naturally and without personal drama. I am changing from someone who has functioned on a race-centric or race-conscious mode to someone who is focused on developing his own identity and focused on being true to himself. I feel the need to more carefully choose my friends based on their value as people. I want to be involved in situations and people who are really worth something. Just being Black is not reason enough for anything anymore.

Leaving the Nest

I have got to get the hell out of here. Really. I have to change my surroundings and circumstances and the immediate circle of friends that I hang out with. That is not saying that my friends here are bad. I just need to change everything that I am doing right now. I have to start exploring my vision of the world and the life that I want to lead. And that starts with leaving here.

I have left here a few times. I left to go to school in California. After I graduated, I came back here for about nine months and moved back to California. I came back about a year and a half later. I left to go to grad school in New Orleans. I even went overseas – halfway around the world - as part of that level of education. And I came back.

Since I have been back, everything has been stagnant. The only good thing that I have gotten in the last few years is my daughter. Otherwise, I have not found an outlet for myself or achieved any type of success or made what I consider to be progress. So I figure that I need to take my act on the road. I need to try it all someplace else.

Everything that I was concentrating on doing here was focused on domestication or on someone else’s version of what I should become. None of it was about me or my happiness. It was all just about fitting in to everyone else’s expectations. None of it spoke to me about joy or accomplishment or adventure. None of it allowed me to truly be who I am. I should be the wolf, not the sheep. I should be a lion, not a housecat.

The real key to me finding what I need is to commit to not coming back, at least for a long time. I have to be like Cortez and burn my ships on the beach. I will visit occasionally. I have to see my little girl. Other than that, I need to stay away. Phone calls and e-mails will have to be enough for right now. I have to leave the nest as soon as I can and fly away as fast as I can.

To that end I spent a part of the morning looking at airfares to where I need to at least start my journey. The prices are really reasonable. I will find the money somewhere soon. I have someplace to stay when I get there. I have an agenda to achieve when I arrive. I won’t be floundering or just becoming stuck in another place.

It’s funny. My brain and my instincts seem to work much better when I go somewhere else. I learn the lay of the land quickly and find good people to be around and good things to do. I can trace most of the truly important growth and maturity that I have experienced to living somewhere other than here. I also realize now that I have had no true personal vision for my life; I could find no great mission or quest upon which to embark. That may be the thing that I need more than anything.

This time around, I don’t have any regrets or reservations about leaving. I don’t think that there is anything here for me anymore. Not that this is a bad place, it’s just doesn’t fit me. And it’s worn out; or I am worn out. I’m not sure which or if it really matters which. I finally feel like I can go forward for me without guilt or false responsibility for others. I feel like I can become the man that I need to be for me.

The Worst Thing I Ever Said

I have gotten into some knock down, drag out fights and arguments in my brief time on this planet. I have said some things that were completely out of pocket and inappropriate. I have said some truly hurtful things, only a few of which I regret. I have held grudges and talked about people behind their backs. I regret all of those incidents because they contradict my attempts to be a man of integrity. I have said things in anger that should not have been said. And I have said things from places of fear and immaturity that forced me to grow into a better man.

None of those circumstances, however, were the place and time I most regret saying something hurtful. The most hurtful thing that I have ever said to someone did not occur in a fight or an argument. The worst thing that I have ever said wasn’t a lie or a rumor or a terrible opinion. It was the truth, or more accurately, a fact.
The worst thing that I ever said to someone was telling my dad that my mom had sold a piece of property. I don’t know what his expectations were or what his attachments were to that property. The house was the first house in which my family lived. None of us had lived in it in years. My mother had rented it out and subsequently decided to sell it.

I told him because he needed to know. But, I will never forget the look on his face when I told him. He looked like someone had given him a gut shot with a wrecking ball. It was the most hurt that I had ever seen the man. I had never seen him like that. He hardly ever let on when he was in any type of pain when he got hurt or was sick with a cold or flu. And as he has grown older and experienced different traumas and health challenges, he just accepted the consequences of aging because he can’t stop time. I don’t know if it is a type of armor that he has always worn or that he just didn’t let things get to him.

This time, he looked like he wanted to nuke the world and cry a river of tears. He looked like he was in shock. I still don’t know why it hit him so hard and I’m not sure that I will ever ask.

I felt really bad after I told him because I could tell that he felt bad. I didn’t feel guilty about telling him, just bad. I didn’t do anything to harm him intentionally, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about his reaction. I was glad to be honest with him so that he knew what was going on. I just never thought that it would hit him the way it did. I can honestly say I never want to see him look like that again.

There is no way to know how my words will affect anyone or how they will affect a situation. I know that I would rather be truthful with the people I care about than to lead them on. I believe that misleading people can end up being more hurtful and damaging in the long run. Still, I never want to see anyone hurt the way my dad was hurt on that day.

Desperation

A few months ago, my dad told my sister and me about a cousin in Virginia. I found it hard to remember if I had even met the guy. My dad told us that he had been laid off from a job that he held for about 20 years. He couldn’t find another job and he fell into a serious depression. One day, he wrote a note to his wife and wrote a note to his mother. He then went to a parking lot and killed himself. Despite the fact that I couldn’t remember him, I found the news disturbing. I know that times now are hard, but I think that anyone would agree that is extreme.

Unfortunately, he isn’t the only one who has felt the effects of economic displacement. There are plenty of people who have decided to off themselves over lost money or a lost job. There are many more that have sunken into deep depression over these issues. They do themselves what may become irreparable harm by allowing these circumstances to dominate their consciousness and to dictate how they should feel about themselves.

There seems to be no way to convince these people that they shouldn’t base their life worth on how much money they have or control. I have been through the same kind of circumstances. The day of George W. Bush’s first inauguration I was laid off from the best job I ever had. Not realizing that the economy was going to take a severe downturn in my industry, I turned down a wonderful opportunity to go elsewhere. It was a big mistake that cost me. I thought that because I had this fantastic education, great experience, and a set of credentials to back up my experience that I would immediately get picked up by a local firm.

I was totally wrong. I ended up finding nothing. Time passed and I ran out of money. I really started to get down on myself. There were mornings that I didn’t want to get out of bed. I shed a few tears and even spent a lot of time staring at a matte steel .44 magnum that I owned. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it, but some really bad and hurtful ideas came to mind. I got so upset that I damn near gave myself ulcerative colitis. All of this was complicated by fracturing my foot on a vacation designed to reduce my stress levels. I moped around like my world had ended. In a way, it did.

The only way that I got past it was to work on something else. I ended up spending a lot of hours with my brother at the county courthouse doing research. We managed to make some connections and do some legal work to clear up the title to my mother’s house – something that thousands of dollars spent on lawyers didn’t accomplish. It helped me restore my confidence in my abilities. I also realized that none of what I was experiencing was life and death. I also got to the point where I understood that I was the one hurting myself. Finally, I found out that I was not the only person having those thoughts or those experiences.

Money is a tool. It is a means of communicating and standardizing value. The only reason that it has value is that we gave it value. That’s it. What was created to be a helpful tool has become the means of our enslavement. I hate seeing people debasing and hurting themselves and others over a desire to gain money. Money is necessary, but it isn’t life. Even if it is lost, it can be regained.

I am looking around and seeing this huge and profound wave of desperation gripping everyone. I see people being distorted and beaten down over misplaced values and desires. Watching people, especially those I care about, experience all of these terrible feelings and their repercussions is almost as bad as experiencing those feelings. I just want to pull out a bullhorn and shout, “This is bullshit.” I want to shake people and tell them that this is just an illusion and all they really have to do is wake up and make some different choices and the nightmare will go away. More than anything, I want to tell them that it is not their fault.

Right now, I wish that I could make people understand that we are experiencing a radical paradigm shift. Old principles are passing away and giving way to new principles. Things that used to work just aren’t valid anymore. Things that were hidden are coming to the surface and lies that held us in place are crumbling. The people that constructed these lies can’t scramble fast enough to put up new lies. I really think that we are at a point where, individually and collectively, we can redefine ourselves and get closer to what we really ought to be. At the very least, that is my objective.

Redefining My Happiness

One of my favorite movies of all time is Superfly, the classic story of a cocaine hustler that is trying to get out of the drug game. My love of this movie has nothing to do with the time period, the outrageous clothes, that it is a Black action movie (I am getting away from the term “Blaxploitation.”), or the fact that in the end Priest sticks it to the man. What I love about this film is that, despite its trappings, it is about profound transformation. Or at least, that’s what I take from it.

There are three scenes in the movie where the main character Priest goes into his motivations. For any one who hasn’t seen the movie or hasn’t seen it in a long time, here are what I consider to be the pivotal scenes in the movie. First, Priest talks about his thoughts with his partner in the business Eddie. He tells Eddie that he wants to get out. Eddie runs down the list of material goods that he has accumulated and the fact that he can snort coke any time he wants. Priest tells Eddie that he wants to get out of the game before he has to kill someone or before someone kills him. Initially, I would assume that it was because Priest was mugged by some junkies. (For those that have seen the movie, he talks to his mentor Scatter about getting out, but not about why.)

The second time that he discusses his motivations is when he is walking in the park with his main girl Georgia. He tells her that he has to get out of the game because he needs to buy himself some time that is “not all fucked up with things... .” He needs to be free and happy and that he has never really experienced that feeling. The last time he really delves into his desire to get out of his lifestyle is with his other girlfriend. He tells her that he thought that his life would be complete because he had the car and the clothes that he wanted and even a taboo relationship with a white woman. He goes on to say that he doesn’t know why, but he has to change the way that he lives.

I don’t know how many times that I have watched that movie. I know that each time that I get to these scenes I find that I can relate to what Priest is talking about. I don’t have the level of material goods that Priest had relative to today. Yet, I know the importance of what he was saying and why he was saying it.

When I had some money in my pockets, things were OK. However, I found myself not doing the things that I said that I was going to do for myself. I didn’t buy the things or pursue the projects that I knew would make my life more complete. And when I bought things that would have pushed me toward my goals, I didn’t use them for their intended purpose. I have a library full of esoteric and rare books that focus directly on my passion for historical research and I still haven’t read any of them. I have a bunch of instructional books on music and I haven’t sat down to work through them.

Somehow, I became this other self that was ego driven, that focused on material accumulation and comfort, and that reveled being middle class with disposable income. While having things isn’t bad, all of that accumulation really didn’t enhance who I was or who I am on any level. I now find myself weighed down with things and desires but no space for those things and desires. I need to shed those things and desires and move on to something else that is bigger in scope and, at the same time, lighter and smaller. I really don’t know how else to describe it.

I have made the excuse many times that life has gotten in the way of my dreams. That is really a big, empty lie. I didn’t make time for my life, my real life. I found time to accomplish a lot of work related goals at speeds that frightened my bosses and co-workers. I just didn’t make the time to do me. I find that all of the complication and BS that I have allowed to rule me don’t mean anything anymore. Doing me is what is important.

Like Priest, I want to get out of the game. My game happens to be the great American rat race. I want to do it the right way, like Priest did it. I want to have enough put away and a good enough plan so that I don’t have to get back into the game at this same level to survive. Nobody in this is stupid. I need money and resources to pursue my goals. At the same time, I know that I can’t use the pursuit of money as an end in and of itself when peace and real happiness are what I want.

On a deeper level and implicitly stated was the idea that Priest had to engage in a basic redefinition of what happiness means to him. I know that I have to do the same. For Priest, happiness meant not being tied into a potentially deadly lifestyle and having the power to choose his direction in life. My happiness is about not being enslaved by someone else’s ideas of what my life and aspirations should be. It is also about doing the things that bring me a sense of fulfillment.

Redefinition doesn’t mean living in a luxury condo or driving that elegant and expensive car, although having those things would be nice. It means finding passion, purpose, and a goal that doesn’t have a dollar sign in front of it. It means that freedom, not money, is the objective, and that money is one of the tools that can be used to achieve freedom. I also know that there are no guarantees, and I am cool with that.

Expecting the Worst

I wrote an entry about a month ago called “Letting Go of Expectation.” I think that this is part two of that entry. “Somehow”, I think that I have moved a little closer to another of the underlying reasons why I am not living the life that I desire. And, it’s another case of me doing it to myself.

There is an old cliché that says, “Expect the best; prepare for the worst.” Somewhere I got it twisted, extremely twisted. I have been expecting the worst and in some cases making sure that the worst arrives. And it shows in how I have been approaching many of the things that I have experienced in life. I could make the excuse that I have been conditioned into that type of thinking because so many of the things that I have experienced have been so negative. That is really just an excuse. The real problem has been my attitude toward my experiences.

Growing up, a lot of the things that I experienced started off in a very positive way and ended up being extremely negative. I was not abused or the victim of a horrible accident. I just kept experiencing things that promised to be great and never fulfilled that promise. I always tended to get the short end of the stick in my endeavors, or at least that is how I perceived it. Whether I had an opportunity to participate in something, to go somewhere, or to just find some enjoyment, things always seemed to go awry. Sometimes the issue was money, sometimes it was time constraint, and sometimes it was being dependent on people who just didn’t care what I wanted or needed.

Whatever the cause, my perception of disappointment started to grind on me and wear me down. I think that because I experienced a lot of disappointment at an early age, I began to think that should be what I should always expect. And so my expectation became mostly negative. After a while, I think that I lost the ability to see the glass as half full. I saw the negative and ignored the positive. Truth be known, the positive usually outweighed the negative.

Negative expectations transitioned into self-fulfilling prophecies. Consequently, I have been continuously cycling myself back through those types of situations because I couldn’t see that I was the source of those feelings. Nothing was right or good enough. Disappointment and frustration became constants in my life. In short, I had written a loser script for myself. And, I seemed fully intent on acting it forever.

I have continuously put myself into bad situations that didn’t have to be bad. I have been aggressive and combative in situations that weren’t meant to be at all contentious or conflict driven. On some occasions, I sought out conflict and I don’t know why. I have gone so far as to make up situations in my head and get emotionally upset about the fantasized outcomes. Usually these situations never came about or, if they did, the outcomes were never as bad as I had imagined them to be. I don’t know what I wanted to prove. I have no idea what I accomplished through the unnecessary expenditure of energy. I can’t explain it; I don’t want to try.

As I have been working on myself, I have begun to take the time out to observe myself and take stock of my reactions and motivations. I can honestly say that I have been totally full of shit. There is no better way to say it. A lot of the situations that I have put myself in should have been much better. I realize that I should have looked for the positive. I should have just waited without expectation or judgment and reacted positively and in my own best interests.

Anyway, I have decided not to beat myself up over the past and my bad judgment. Now that I know what I have been doing to myself, I can avoid the trap and find something else to do with my time and energy. I figure that if I am going to make mistakes (all part of being human), at least they should be new mistakes.

We Obligate Ourselves to Things That Hold Us Back

The other day I was having a conversation with a good friend. He said something to me that was so profound that I had to write it down for fear of forgetting it. I have a pretty good memory and I don’t often forget things, but this I had to write down. He told me that sometimes “We obligate ourselves to things that hold us back.” It was like being slapped in the face because I needed to check myself. Its impact was just that forceful; it really woke me up. I had to step back and take a few very deep breaths after he spit that one out. This eloquent thought let me know how hard I had been working against my own best interests and against my right to choose for myself.

For the last couple of days, I have been trying to come up with some clever, droll, or useful way to expand on what he said. I was going to try to put out some concrete examples of how this applies to my life and experience. I was going to bring up how I had been volunteered into things by people who disrespected my right to choose for myself how to best use my time. Or, I was going to try to talk about long-term, ill-conceived efforts that stretched on for what seemed like interminable periods and that produced horrible results. After all, relating these thoughts to my experience is what this blog is all about.

None of it seemed appropriate. This was nothing that could really be relegated into a simple set of observations. Talking about the importance and irreplaceable nature of time wasn’t enough. I even considered going in another philosophical direction by mentioning that obligation implies an artificially produced debt that never truly exists. Acceptance of that debt prevents benefiting from the higher value that conscious choice brings. I could get esoteric and discuss how when we don’t question the belief systems and opinions we are given; we obligate ourselves to ways of existing that may not be appropriate for us. The truth is that sentence could have a million different meanings a day to a million different people and all of those meanings would be valid and appropriate.

The most meaningful thing that I can say is that this summarizes a lesson that it has taken me many years to learn. That lesson is simply that I have a right to choose how to use my time and a right to say no when I deem it appropriate without guilt or recrimination. Over my lifetime, I have found it very difficult to simply say no to people. I can’t pin down one exact reason for it.

Somehow, despite my protestations to the contrary, I have felt the need on many occasions to seek outside approval for and recognition of my character and generosity. I have felt the need to be validated. It has taken me a long time to know that I need to balance my overdeveloped sense of idealism and desire to help with my underdeveloped sense of self-interest (not selfishness). It has taken a long time to mature in this respect and to begin to truly make decisions that are right for me.

Because it has taken me so long to become fully internally motivated versus externally motivated, I am sure that I have missed opportunities, including opportunities to do interesting things and to meet good people. I can not begin to calculate what it may have cost me. But now I accept the potential loss without regret or need for validation.

I am not sure that even this explanation is complete enough conceptually. I am not sure that I have enough intelligence or wisdom to boil the essence of this thought down any further for anyone but myself. I decided that the best thing to do was to leave interpretation open to anyone who reads it. That is what I would hope for in any case, but especially in this one.

Word of the Day: Demagogue

I think of myself as a reasonably intelligent person. Some but not all of the people that know me agree with that assessment. There are a few people think that I am a complete idiot, but that is another story.

I have a fairly large vocabulary. That large vocabulary, however, does not mean that I know everything or that I am infallible. Sometimes, in my reading or conversations, I come across or use words that I really don’t know. I understand some words in contextual use, but I really couldn't give a standalone, coherent definition like one that you would see in a dictionary. I have tried lately to look up words that I know, hear, and use but cannot accurately define. I have been doing this to keep myself honest and to prevent myself from becoming a total blowhard. (I have only been partially successful.) I figure that if I use language incorrectly I back myself into a corner; my judgment and my credibility become suspect.

I looked up a million dollar word the other day. That word was “demagogue”. I looked it up on Wikipedia and was passed to “demagogy.” I'll be damned if something really interesting didn't show up on the screen. I encourage you to look it up yourself at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demagogy. Whoever wrote the article included a definition originally written by HL Mencken. Mencken said that a demagogue is “one who will preach doctrines he knows to be untrue to men he knows are idiots.” That man can turn a phrase; he can even find a smooth and prosaic way to call someone a liar.

The author goes on to outline some of the techniques used by demagogues to achieve their aims. Here are summaries of the techniques listed.

1. Apples and oranges – mixing of incomparable quantities
2. Half-truth – making statements that are only true in a strict and relatively meaningless sense
3. False authority – relying on the general authority of a person who is not proficient in the discussed topic
4. False dilemma – assuming that there are only two possible opinions on a given topic
5. Demonization – identifying others as a mortal threat
6. Straw man – mischaracterizing the opposing position and then arguing against the mischaracterization
7. Loaded question – posing a question with an implied position that the opponent does not have
8. Unrelated facts – bringing facts that sound in favor of the speaker's agenda
9. Emotional appeal or personal attacks – attempting to bring a discussion to an emotional level

After I read this I was amazed. I see this stuff everyday used on television and I keep wondering why people are still going for it. What in the world is in the Kool-Aid?

These techniques are why nothing in America is getting solved, even though the answers are right there in our faces. This is the playbook on how to mislead people who are only half paying attention and who have abdicated their duty to think for themselves. This is the stuff we used to call “tricknology.” Watching this stuff work would be hilarious if it weren’t so scary. At least now, when I am watching those Sunday morning political shows or the news, I can check off what they are doing to screw with public opinion.

My Man Holmes

I had this friend back in my “wild” undergraduate days. He was a pretty cool guy. His nickname was “Holmes”. He had a bit of luck with the ladies and the name stuck. We hung out with other friends at parties and sipped on a beer or two together. Sitting here, he popped into my mind. Holmes reminded me of a time when I didn’t live up to my own standards of behavior and friendship.

Holmes and his dorm mates were playing a game on intramural flag football. Holmes became the victim of a freak accident. He took a block wrong or something and ended up falling hard on his neck or upper back. Holmes ended up in a wheelchair as a quadriplegic with limited use of his arms. He came back to school after about a semester of recovering and got back into the swing of being a student. From what I could see, he was alright with his life and had a handle on how he was going forward.

I would see him around campus, occasionally at a party or in someone’s dorm room. Although he couldn’t walk anymore, he didn’t seem to have missed a step. He was always really cool. He would always invite me to come by and hang out. And I know that he was sincere about the offer.

I never went. I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Nothing was wrong with me; nothing happened to me. He was the one who suffered the injury. And I didn’t hurt him. I just couldn’t go. Maybe, I thought that some of what got on him would get on me. Whatever it was, I failed to be a real friend and I am a little regretful about it.

I am always talking this stuff about how I think that friendship is a divine thing; that friends are people that we choose to love and that bond is a sacred gift. In this case, I blew it and can’t understand why. I just know that I wasn’t the kind of friend that I should have been. I mean the least that I could have done was show up every once in a while to spend some time with the guy.

I honestly don’t know what Holmes is up to now. I should probably check the alumni association. Knowing him, he is probably a billionaire or a successful lawyer. Whatever success and happiness he has found; I wish him a million times more.

I don’t think that I have a point with this post, except that I hope never to punk out on a friend like that ever again. Do I have to always have a point?

Being Unreasonable

I have come to the inescapable conclusion that I am through with being reasonable. I have found nothing but harm, frustration, and pain when I have chosen the path of reasonableness. (Is that really a word?) I have spent many years digging myself out of holes caused by my acceptance of some reasonable decision. I have spent years deferring things or circumstances that would have led to more fulfillment or to a better life because those things that I desired were not reasonable. I am done with that. I don’t want to go back to that way of being.

In no way am I promoting illogical or irrational behavior. Instead, I am running away from reasonable behavior. Someone might ask whether all of those terms mean the same thing in a general sense. They might under some definitions. I choose to define them differently. Illogical or irrational behaviors arise from people choosing to not to follow an ordered or organized train of thought, whatever that might entail or to whatever those outcomes may lead.

Being reasonable, on the other hand, means something totally different to me. Being reasonable is about conformity. It is about accepting the prevailing opinion of the masses and allowing that opinion to dictate to you your future and your desires. It is about allowing oneself to be controlled and directed by people or forces that may not necessarily have one’s best interests at heart. In my own experience, I have allowed people to convince me on many occasions to be reasonable. I think that when I allowed this to happen, I was truly out of alignment with myself, either because I wasn’t being honest with myself about my capabilities or because I didn’t trust myself to decide what was right for me.

A prime example of this in my life is music. I have been a musician since I was eight years old. I have played in all types of groups and have played all types of music. I finally decided when I graduated from college that I would try to take my skills to the next level. I packed up and moved to LA to go to a famous music school to get my skills together. I didn’t go to become famous or to get rich, I did it because I love music and I love playing music.

Things didn’t go the way that I planned. Certain people in my life didn’t do what they said that they would do to help me in my quest and tried to talk me out of doing what I needed to do to succeed. Fortunately I wasn’t hearing it. I went and got to it. I had to take a full time job and didn’t get to fully experience all that I wanted to experience. I really should have fought and worked harder to get everything out of the experience. Regardless I made a quantum leap in terms of personal growth that I would not trade for anything. Being unreasonable got me to the place that I could have the experience; being reasonable limited the outcome to something less than optimal. I still want to get to that elite level of ability and I have regrets about not completing what I started so many years ago.

I am a student of history. Whenever I look at the lives of “great” people, people that did remarkable or astonishing things, I see a pattern of unreasonable behavior. How many great inventors were constantly told to give up their inventions because they just wouldn’t work or because no one would want their products? How many philosophers were told that they were crazy and that their thoughts were ridiculous? How many people that have achieved anything of note by following the reasonable path?

History doesn’t remember the reasonable person. That guy that dutifully sits in his cubicle everyday pushing papers will never leave a real legacy. The woman that arrives at work everyday and keeps her head down while working toward a safe retirement won’t even be a footnote in history. They follow the reasonable path and allow that path to destroy their dreams. Reasonableness (there goes that word again) never really did anything but create slaves. It crushes dreams and kills spirits.

Even if you look at some of the greatest monsters in our history, you will see that they pursued paths that had nothing to do with reason. Every conqueror, despot, tyrant, or dictator of note achieved amazing and terrible results because they refused to recognize conventional reason as a determining factor in their strategies. While these people are reviled, they are immortals in our collective consciousness because they dared to be as unreasonable as possible. They didn’t accept external limitations.

The most recent, incredible example of unreasonable behavior comes from our last presidential election. In November of 2007, there couldn’t have been more than a few thousand people that actually believed that a Black man could be President of the United States. Most people, including me, thought that it was a pipe dream. I looked at our history as a nation and the promises of our national philosophy that are so often broken and said that there was no way could this happened. As the campaign progressed, I started to believe, even though there was always a little doubt lingering in the background. A year later in November of 2008, the unthinkable happened. I was stunned, shocked, and amazed that a Black man was elected President. He and his team did it with brilliant strategy and fund-raising. But it was all based on a belief that almost everyone in America would have called unreasonable.

Maybe some part of being reasonable is filling in the blanks with things and ideas that are limiting and just not true. Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it. I think that I would rather be called crazy and ridiculous. I would rather have all of the doubters and haters trying to bring me down. I think that they are all indicators that I am on the right path.

I have just as much time in a day as anyone else. I now choose to spend that time doing things that benefit me and that make me happy. I know that it takes the same energy and that the pay-off is much greater. I still find it hard to believe how much of my time and effort I have given away for little or nothing to support the dreams of people that couldn’t care whether I live or die. I did this to myself all in the name of finding a reasonable way to live my life.

Amer-I-Can or Amer-I-Can't

I love Jim Brown, the former NFL great and movie star. I admire and respect his accomplishments in football and entertainment. I think that he is the greatest and most dominant football player to play the game, and possibly the greatest lacrosse player ever.

My admiration for Jim Brown is not centered on his exploits in football or in the movies. My respect for him grows out of his record of community involvement and leadership. (I distrust the word activism because it seems shallow and has become a code word that sends signals to the mainstream. It says, “Here they come, those Civil Rights people. Even if what they say is correct, marginalize what they say.”) Jim Brown has gone into neighborhoods where heavily armed cops won’t go and has pulled young Black men out of gang violence, the effects of government malaise, and hopelessness. I think that the essence of what Jim Brown is doing is teaching disenfranchised people how to behave and participate in this American paradigm.

Despite this fact and the undeniable effectiveness of his Amer-I-Can program, he is under constant attack by all kinds of people. Women’s groups attack him because he has had some violent episodes with women. Some mainstream groups see him as too Black. Although he is in his 70’s, many people still fear him on the most basic, physical level.

I don’t see Jim Brown as perfect or as a saint. On some levels, he is deeply flawed. But, who isn’t. He has consistently admitted that some of his reactions to situations were improper. He has taken responsibility for his actions and continues to evolve.

This post is not really about Jim Brown, though. It is about the name of his program and about my attitude. His program is called Amer-I-Can. For many years, I was an Amer-I-Can’t.

I am part of the first generation of Black Americans born after The Civil Rights movement accomplished the goal of getting laws passed to protect the rights of all Americans. I have no direct experience of the type of oppression, bigotry, and violence prosecuted against non-white Americans prior to the movement. Despite my lack of traumatizing experiences, I have found it hard to turn toward accepting, on my own terms, a fully American identity.

I fully realized the effects of my attitude toward the American paradigm and legacy during my time in grad school. One night, I was at a fight party. Tito Trinidad was fighting William Joppy (and putting it on him I might add). I watched some of the pre-fight shots of the crowd. If memory serves, the fight was in Madison Square Garden and the crowd was heavily Puerto Rican and partisan for Trinidad. They were waving Puerto Rican flags and singing songs and exuding this love for their homeland. I made the comment that I have never felt that way about this country. About thirty minutes later another guy came in and made almost the same comment. I was surprised and sort of taken aback.

I was not surprised that two people expressed the same type feelings. I was surprised that I found that there was really no reason for feeling this way. I could understand this feeling coming from ex-slaves. They didn’t get anything close to a level playing field, but they persevered and accomplished amazing things. I could understand those sentiments from people who lived through the dark days of Jim Crow, which was just slavery recapitulated. I could especially understand it from non-white veterans, who, despite their service to this country, were often in danger of being lynched in full uniform. I just got to a point where I couldn’t understand or justify it fully from myself or my generation.

I think that mine is a generation, among other things, of unfocused anger and aggression. We were brought up being taught who the enemy was but not having any consistent outward manifestations on which to focus. So we manifested our anger outwardly on anything that moved. Some of those manifestations had a certain beauty to them, like Mike Tyson knocking someone the fuck out or KRS-ONE or Public Enemy verbally destroying the Reagan Era law and order paradigm. Other manifestations were horrific, like the crack epidemic or the gang violence that Jim Brown has spent so much time fighting.

While my epiphany started the process of transformation, my new attitude was brought to life by my travel overseas. I was in a culture that was totally foreign to me. I found in a very direct way that most of the people that I encountered didn't care what I looked like or where I was from. They just wanted to get where they were going and to do what they wanted to do. Four hundred years of slavery and oppression don't really compare in scope to five thousand years of recorded history and culture.

Regardless, for me that manifestation ran its course a few years ago. Since that little epiphany, I have refocused that part of me to try to understand my place in this American experiment. I long ago (before my epiphany) moved away from the entitlement mentality that is stereotyped into and onto the Black community. I have embraced the promise that is one of the most beautiful parts of the American paradigm: the opportunity to reshape oneself in one’s own image.

I still live in the real world. I know that there are still barriers and attitudes that seek to retard my progress based on outmoded assumptions and fear. But, I am trying to give less and less power to those attitudes. Now this doesn’t mean that I want to sell out, assimilate, or adopt a white-washed identity. It instead says that while there are no guarantees, I will take my chances to define myself as I choose, make a space for myself and my ideas, and live as I choose. I want to embrace the right to fully participate without being obstructed or hindered because of racial or identity politics.

The Value of My Words

I recently spent a few hours over a couple of days working with my mentor on his magnum opus project. He had come to a sticking point about his presentations and about how he was attempting to educate his audience on the value of his product set. He was attempting to show everyone everything in its set of capabilities to convince potential investors of the breadth and depth of his offering and of its benefits to their organizations. We talked intensely about what he was saying to them.

We concluded that he was not putting enough “sexy” into his presentation. He was also not controlling his audience’s perception of his product. The product is his invention. And as I told him, it is what he says that it is. If he wants to say that his product will fly through the air like Superman, then it will. It is up to others to prove that it won’t; not that he is intending to mislead anyone. I was able to convince him to look at his product from a more creative and market-savvy perspective. It was not necessary to overwhelm them with the technical. Instead, he should focus on seeing what he is presenting from the viewpoint of a sales and marketing expert who is out to make a sale.

He thanked me for my input and told me that our conversation was valuable to him because it helped him to re-frame how he was doing things. It made me feel good to help him out, especially after he has helped me so much to go after a better perspective in dealing with my issues.

None of this is about me tooting my own horn or about helping others through crises of perspective. Instead, it is about the value of words, specifically mine.

I have spent the last few years feeling marginalized. My word has meant next to nothing in corporate settings. In my private life, I have felt disrespected and denigrated by how what I have said and suggested has been swept aside and ignored. Whether because of my circumstance, my finances, my mood, or just the people with whom I have dealt, I have felt like a second class citizen. I have gotten to the point in many instances where I felt that there was no point in me saying or suggesting anything. I figured that I was throwing pearls before swine or simply talking over people’s heads.

My conversations and input with my mentor have pulled me back from that backward train of thought. I now know that my words and thought do have value, whether they are acknowledged as such or not. I am not saying that everyone is entitled to my opinion; instead, I am entitled to express my opinion as I see fit. More importantly, I don’t need approval from authority or peers or anyone else to say what I think I need to express.

Many times, the value of things that I have expressed to people has gone unacknowledged. That impact often shows up later in how they modify their approaches or behaviors to situations. I think that I have been caught up in a need for acknowledgment or some sort of thanks for giving them something that helps them to expand their perspective. I am coming to understand that the value in that type of sharing for me is in how it fulfills my need to lend a philosophical helping hand to those around me. It also corresponds with how I treat doing physical things for people.

I have never been one to look for outward displays of appreciation. I do things because I want to do them or because I feel that they need to be done. Maybe this shift in perception draws me more into alignment with who I should be. Maybe it takes out the need for externalization and takes more of my motivation to the internal plane where I think that it belongs. Only time will tell.

Better Than Terrific

Contrary to the heavy tone of a lot of what I have written, I am determined to build a life that is better than terrific. I want all of the gusto and jubilation and adventure that I can squeeze out of my life. I have been using this process of introspection to clear out all of the crap that I have been lugging around with me like Samsonite for years. The crap that I have to eliminate includes outmoded and outdated models which I have used to define how I deal with the world around me. And believe me, there are a lot of those old models.

I have been trying to get rid of old coping mechanisms and justifications that either don’t work or are unnecessary. I have found that a lot of the things that have I used to unconsciously hold myself back don’t register a blip on most people’s radar. They don’t matter and don’t manifest anywhere. Even if they do manifest, their reality is nowhere near as bad or as frightening as I have built them up to be in my mind. It’s like a total self mind-fuck. (I am my own worst enemy.)

I have figured out that I have been accepting other people’s definitions without considering their purpose, meaning, orientation, or origin. For example, what is “family values?” To whose family does it refer? What are those values? Why should it refer to me? Why does this person presume the right to speak or think for me? In other words someone has taken over the dialogue and filled it with a lot of bullshit without taking responsibility or establishing legitimacy? And, I am at fault for accepting these definitions.

Deeper still, I have spent a lot of time filling in the blanks in situations. I have made assumptions and drawn conclusions about things and situations that didn’t need those conclusions. I have taken responsibility for things that I shouldn’t be in any way involved. I have wasted a lot of energy taking part in things that have nothing to do with me. I accepted old formulas and practices that I can clearly see don’t work. (Here’s one. Got to school, get a good job, and work toward retirement. Does that work anymore? Let’s ask Bill Gates, Larry Ellison, and Gurbaksh Chahal.) I have assumed that certain functions and descriptions are inviolate and unchanging; despite the fact that no one actually told me or showed me that they were so. In sum, I have spent a lot of time tying myself in knots for no real reason. Mea culpa. I did it to myself. I bought the BS that was being sold. Now, I’m done with it. I take responsibility for it and I release it.

I really thought that I was a pragmatist and that I had everything under control. But, I have discovered how many hang ups I have allowed to fester and to slow me down. I think that I am getting past that now, getting to the real me. And, hopefully, I have exposed enough of myself to light and fresh air that I can begin to truly move forward toward a better life and outlook. I feel better about the possibilities and I feel comfortable with redefining my happiness – giving myself permission to consciously decide what is important to me and what makes sense for me to pursue. I can work more in my best interest. I can remake myself in my own image. I can be all that I can be. (Bad joke)

I have spent a lot of time desiring and planning for a better life. I know the kinds of things that I want to do and experience. I know how I want to affect those around me. I think that the ultimate self imposed barrier has been my inability to let go of my expectations and to take the leap into the unknown. More accurately, I think that I have been unable to let go of my current life and the paradigm that came with it – the desire for control and the thought that I can make this new life fit the pattern of my current life. Now, I know that I can’t control the shape of my new life and I shouldn’t try. It won’t fit my old patterns pattern. Its newness, by definition, makes that fit impossible.

I can’t have the new and better without giving up the old and worn out. Even though it is really comfortable and I know it well, it is raggedy and full of holes. It’s torn up and doesn’t fit anymore. It’s too small (hopefully, because I am growing). I have to throw the old one away, put on the new one, and be confident that it will fit.

Smart Ass

I have been told by a lot of people that I am smart. I have old standardized test scores, report cards, and a few diplomas to attest to my supposed intelligence. Still, there are many days where I feel downright stupid. And then I look out at the world and find that there are a lot of people that are being classified as dumb. The more that I look at those people, the more intelligent that I realize that they are.

I was shown explicitly and implicitly as I was growing up that intelligent people were the ones that were doing well in school. They were getting good grades and being smiled upon by teachers and other authority figures. So I was always among those considered smart, oftentimes looked upon as the best. I made great grades and got accepted into world class schools and went to one of those top schools.

I have earned a Bachelor’s and a Masters degree from highly ranked universities. I have studied abroad. I have also gained a few advanced computer certifications. Yet, I look around me and I find that there are many people who did not finish even high school who are leaps and bounds ahead of me on all fronts. On paper, these are people who should not be able to carry my intellectual jock strap.

As I looked around, I figured out once I left my undergraduate experience that I had been playing a convincing, convoluted, and unrealistic game. It was a system of control and indoctrination. I really wasn’t prepared to understand and tackle the real challenges that life had presented me. The game that I was conditioning myself to play was one of strict meritocracy. If I did the work, I would be rewarded with opportunity and privilege. If I didn’t, I would fall by the wayside.

As I got into the real world, I found that a great deal of what I had been preparing myself to do didn’t exist. I found out that those to whom I had entrusted myself really didn’t know the system outside of their educational domain and had never really competed in the real world. I discovered the subjective meritocracy of education did not have an analog in the real world. Sure, I might be one of the more intelligent people in the room, but that didn’t count for anything in a corporate power structure. There was no guarantee that raw intelligence would help me get ahead. Instead, it became an impediment because I showed too many people too quickly that I mentally outclassed them.

I definitely held myself back by not using my intelligence in more pragmatic ways. It has taken me a long time to just answer questions as they are asked and not go overboard with information and opinions. People don’t want to be overwhelmed with my brilliance, they just want what they came to get. Even more, it has taken me a long time to stop being caught up in what I assumed were my impressive credentials. Those credentials only go so far. They may get you noticed and considered, but they won’t win any battles for you. And, I have drawn the conclusion that, in most situations, the concept of meritocracy is a fantasy.

What I am discovering about people that are experiencing success is that they work in a very efficient and self contained manner. They focus and don’t spread themselves too thin. They maximize their talents and work within themselves. I have never seen a star pro running back trying to have a deep discussion about the implications of string theory and quantum mechanics. I don’t recall hearing of any prima ballerina discussing multi-variable regression analysis as a predictive measure of commodities futures. And I really have never heard of Paris Hilton discussing anything of importance.

I am not saying that no one mentioned is capable of high brow, intellectual discourse. They refrain from it because it is not their thing. Instead, they work within their capabilities and excel within their chosen fields. They dedicate themselves and reap great rewards. They know who they are, accept that the outside world perceives them in a certain light, and they are OK with that.

Nobody in school ever told me to take that approach. And they definitely never told me to try to keep things as simple as possible about anything and everything. Instead, they told me to excel at everything and to learn as much as possible. That, of course, was followed by the standard go to school, work hard, and get a good job. None of my teachers seemed to realize the plain truth. Many of the greatest success stories in the world today didn’t finish school, mostly because they recognized that that type of formalized education had nothing to offer them. Also, none of them got jobs.

I don’t know why it has taken me this long to realize this. Maybe that is the real function of this system of formal education, to condition away independent and original thought. Somebody told me once that in college, you trade your common sense away for a diploma. I’ve done it twice already and may go back again. Or maybe I have just not understood the inherent opportunities and possibilities of being at those institutions. Maybe, I have submitted to limitation unconsciously.

As far as Paris Hilton is concerned, I think that our reactions to her apparent vacuous nature are simply our coping mechanisms kicking in. I don’t think that our society can handle her success. She may not be all that bright, but she was smart enough to surround herself with people who are bright. She gets paid to go to parties that she would probably attend anyway. She has several lines of perfume that are selling well. She has been paid to appear on television and in movies. She even got a record deal. All told, she is able to maintain her lifestyle and has probably makes more money in a year than the average person can ever dream of having in a lifetime without winning the lottery.

I have to ask myself: if I am so smart, why am I struggling so hard and making so little progress?

Fighting with Myself

As I spend more and more time trying to figure myself out, I find that I am in conflict. The things that I have been taught do not correspond to the ways that I experience the world. I keep running into people and situations that are at odds with the way that I want things to be. I keep finding contradictions and hypocrisy and all kinds of objectionable behavior in the people around me. I keep finding situations that are illogical and strangely meaningless.

The most logical observation about how I am dealing with my life is that the world isn’t confused, I am. I am fighting against something that no one else sees or is aware. No one else has the same set of conflicts or objections to how life is treating them. They are not aware of my struggle. They don’t have problems with all of the things that I can’t stand. The favorable things and situations that I want haven’t manifested, even with intense effort and concentration. I must not be fighting against the world. I must be fighting against myself. It makes me feel crazy and alone and stuck.

Things just don’t fit. I am continuously trying to fit a square peg into a round whole because someone told me that it would eventually fit. Despite the fact that I keep trying and failing, I don’t stop trying even though the results are the same. (Isn’t that the definition of insanity?) I think that I am ready to stop the insanity and try something else.

R. A. Wilson called the condition that I am experiencing “Chapel Perilous.” It is a state in which all of the ways that you model the world and try to make sense of everything become broken. The world turns upside down, fractures, and leaves you confused. I have been experiencing this for the last few years. No one, especially me, has any real answers as to why I feel this way. Wilson’s own journey through this state led him to all types of weird experiences including conversations with a six foot tall talking rabbit called the Pookah. These manifestations and other things led him back to a better, funnier, more pleasant and productive state of being.

I don’t think that I will see any big rabbits any time soon. I will, however, be moving toward a better self concept. Key to all of this is to stop beating up on myself. Once I do that, I will be able to reshape and reconstruct my sense of wholeness and my life will improve. As I replace these broken and useless models with bigger, more accurate, more effective models, I will move out of this funk into a world-view that finally makes sense.

I think that all of this reformation will have the effect that I will be forced to act more positively on my own behalf. I will have to deal with everything with greater integrity and care. I will have to raise my standards and perform to those standards. Also, I think that I will have to think bigger, much bigger. I have finally begun to consider that what I must do and the man that I need to be have to work on a much larger scale and in a larger scope. My lack of progress in my present state must be a by-product of trying to exist at the wrong level. This internal confusion must be my way of preventing any potential complacency and stagnation that could come from just settling. Ultimately, I have no choice but to live out my dreams and have an incredible life.

Am I asking the right questions?

I have been examining some of the fundamental aspects of my life and have been trying to go past the surface issues to get to the core of what ails me. The more I search my inner being and try to figure out the “truth” of my existence, the more I keep running around in circles. I can summarize the way I feel by saying that I feel like a man with one foot nailed to the floor. No matter how hard or fast that man runs, he can do nothing but run in circles. To change, the man either has to nail down the other foot or pull out the original nail. Since I don’t want to be stuck, I want to pull out the first nail.

The problem for me is that I keep running into my own contradictions, hypocrisy, and conundrums. I feel at odds with myself. The definitions that help me frame my world really don’t make sense any more. I keep trying to ask questions in different ways. I keep getting the same answers and they are all wrong. Or at least I don’t like how they sound.

I am moving more and more to the point where I think that all of my assumptions are wrong. Somehow, what I was taught in school, what I learned on jobs, and what I observed and learned in relationships just doesn’t fit how I experience the world. I have begun to feel like I have wasted a lot of my life on pursuing dreams and things that really don’t mean a whole hell of a lot. In short, I think that maybe I have been looking at my life from the wrong angle.

I read a book a couple of years ago called 4-Hour Work Week by a guy named Tim Ferriss. This book was chock full of nuggets of wisdom and real strategies to cut down on the clutter in your life. The best thing that he said in the book was that most people are making a mistake in how they pursue their goals. He said that everyone always asked, “What do you want to do with your life?” To me, that question is too final and limiting. It gives me the impression that this is all that I will be allowed to do forever.

Ferriss said that instead we should asking, “What makes you excited?” To me, that question is much more open ended. It allows for growth and change and redefinition. I can change my mind and my direction without having to justify myself to the outside world. I can more easily feel that I not locked in to a set of decisions because of some form of expectation. Life becomes more interesting because an element of passion is introduced that was carefully destroyed by formal education, economic necessity, and family expectation.

After remembering all of this, I began to think some deep thoughts about how else I had trapped myself. Can I ask myself these big life questions in better ways? Do I have to be locked into any certain path to find happiness and success? Can I reframe the way I approach things? Am I on the right path? If I am on the wrong path, how much time and energy have I wasted? Am I asking the right questions? Should I even be asking questions? If I don't ask questions, what should I do instead? (And the cycle continues.)