The Boy & A Year Of Learning To Take Care
INTRODUCTION
As my eyes slowly fluttered open, after a thrilling late Saturday night of holiday movies that beat me tirelessly over the head with the overly used plot of “how to survive being single” or my personal favorite “how not to be single on Christmas and sometimes New Year’s too.”
I glance at my phone — yes, I’m one of those — to check the current time and any urgent life notifications I may have missed while in sleep mode. Seeing no ‘9-1-1’ quality messages, I take my time and slowly start to wiggle and stretch within my cozy and warm haven that is my bed.
At that moment I had to also ponder if experiencing jealousy amidst having joy for your friend was healthy.
As parts of my body gradually power on, I glanced back at my phone to view a text message from my dear friend Lauren. “Matt and I signed our marriage license yesterday,” she says, “and Winne stamped her paw as the official witness.”
A bit shook, yet also not at all surprised “because if you know my Lauren you wouldn’t be either.” So, I continue reading, “Off to Costa Rica today to elope! Love you, hope all is well <3 Happy Holidays!!!” she says. At this point tearfully laughing and filled with excitement yet also some envy for Lauren’s dream come true. I reply, “Lol I hate and love u at the same time for all of this (inserting extra emojis to lessen my subtle sense of joy-filled jealousy).”
At that moment I had to also ponder if experiencing jealousy amidst having joy for your friend was healthy. “In fact, I do think so, but it doesn’t, nor should it take away the joy of celebrating your dear friend or being a source of affirmation to them.”
Things that INSPIRED me most was the ability to dream, to create, to bring it to fruition
I walk to the refrigerator, reach down to pull out a lemon from the corner right cupboard which also houses Granny Smith’s finest apples. Placing the lemons on the cutting board I slice them in half and then again in quarters. I place two quarters in a mug and pour hot water over them. With my hot lemon water ready, and Lauren’s announcement of nuptials in my subconscious, I stare at my bike. I remember learning to ride my first commuter-friendly bike in the streets of Washington, DC, but my favorite bike memories somehow were less memorable as moments when I had to learn from crashing and falling off. In a way, that would also describe my year in 2021, and if I’m being honest really the last two years. For me this venture into the wild truly started pre-COVID -- when I left DC in Spring 2019.
These are thoughts I ponder as I slowly gulp down my hot now warm lemon water. I remain inspired most as I remember the years past, and the new one upon us and those still to come.
In 2021, we all in our own ways perhaps bit the dust. Some of us would be inspired to try again, while some of us would call it quits. Learning to ride a bike at first is completely unnatural. Once it clicks – the balance, pedaling, steering – it’s hard to imagine not knowing how to do it. After a while, we just know how to do it if we had to do it again. These are thoughts I ponder as I slowly gulp down my hot now warm lemon water. I remain inspired most as I remember the years past, and the new one upon us and those still to come. This is where I found the courage to want to commit to myself once more. In some measures (re)committed to dreams, to pursuits to create, and bringing aspirations to full fruition. Commitments to aspire and inspire to step full into Self.
I believe, “the journey to coming into Self is also a long uncomfortable one”, and that it requires “of un-blending from both our inner critic and child.” To live a life of excellent personal self-care is to discover and recover The Art Of Perspective. This requires us to accept that the challenge of uncovering the origins of our criticized child is both important and uncomfortably necessary. Like learning to pedal, steer, and balance, we eventually, with enough practice, don’t even think about riding a bike anymore. Like Nike, we just do it. Despite the rollercoaster ride of a year in misadventures and self-realization, I eventually learned to go with the punches.
To live a life of excellent personal self-care is to discover and recover The Art Of Perspective. This requires us to accept that the challenge of uncovering the origins of our criticized child is both important and uncomfortably necessary.
Things that gave me HOPE was all of life’s mundane and most beautiful of cliches
“Healing takes courage,” wrote Tori Amos. “…even if we have to dig a little to find it.” To do so requires taking on a method of recovery, one that requires a deep assessment of our Internal Self Dialogue. Specifically, how they impact our ability or willingness to understand and navigate the adventures of life. Here in perspective, we are asked to enter a space of groundedness and love, where we connect, remain curious, and are compassionate humans working to come into and stay Self – the key to healing and integrating our disparate parts.
When I moved to Washington, D.C. in the summer of 2013 to serve as an AmeriCorps VISTA, I didn’t know then what I know now. My eventual six (6) years in DC (or as I prefer to say ‘Chocolate City’) would become a formative time in my journey of growing up, it was also a crucial lifetime moment for me to discover what it truly means to live a full life as an integrated gay black man in America, who also so happens to have a funny name. However, the following year when I joined my graduate school program for sustainable development in the fall of 2014, I found myself surrounded by a tribe of granola-eating students, which included my dear friend Lauren, professors, and peace for all mankind hippy types in the middle of our blue, grey and black suit driven Nation’s Capital. Yes, I experienced D.C. in the era of Obama’s tan suit controversy. Simpler times they seemed back then, doesn’t it?! But I digress.
Despite the backdrop of Obama’s 2014 Tan Suit-Gate, during those initial few weeks of my first semester of grad school, the granola-eating hippies not only went from strangers but a loving tribe of truth-seekers. This tribe of lovers of a full authentic form of living and existing, managed to somehow convince me the world was worthy and hopeful enough to take the time to be introduced and learn to properly pronounce my last name as, “Ka-Nae-Nae.”
My eventual six (6) years in DC (or as I prefer to say ‘Chocolate City’) would become a formative time in my journey of growing up, it was also a crucial lifetime moment for me to discover what it truly means to live a full life as an integrated gay black man in America, who also so happens to have a funny name.
One day while discussing a few blog posts I had written for The Art Of Perspective, a friend made a profound remark by saying “while busy trying to get the world to know how to pronounce the name ‘Kanene’, you should spend time getting to know it for yourself and tell that story.” In a way, since leaving DC in 2019, relocating became my physical manifestation of attempting to better understand myself as the subject and control the narrative of my own story. Doing so is to be like breathing itself, because “To remember is to believe and seek out hope,” especially in all of life’s mundane and, “most beautiful of cliches.”
CONCLUSION
Staring at the blank pages of my journal, the resulting pages spoke of finding perspective and taking excellent care of Self in all moments, especially those of emotional imbalance. With another year yet past, and a new one upon us, during times one might utter “unprecedented”, I accept my role as “the master of my fate,” and my will to be “the captain of my soul.” Capable to remain inspired in the face of cynicism, willing to face challenges with a warrior spirit, and driven to “remain hopeful despite the despair of self-pity.”
In short, finding perspective for our lives is like having rhythm, “like breathing itself,” as the Bible describes. Where we are taking in “grace for ourselves,” and holding out “love for others.” Similar to learning to ride our bikes, maybe one day we’ll look a little bit more graceful and pull off some cool moves. God, Universe, Higher Power, not exclusive of what you name your form of spiritual electricity, has shown us the way and wants us to “stick with Him through the awkward learning parts” so we can learn to ride as He does.
With another year yet past, and a new one upon us, during times one might utter “unprecedented”, I accept my role as “the master of my fate,” and my will to be “the captain of my soul.” Capable to remain inspired in the face of cynicism, willing to face challenges with a warrior spirit, and driven to “remain hopeful despite the despair of self-pity.”
In the year ahead, I only hope to fully practice and train Self to “take my mind off of falling so that I can pedal more fearlessly.” To cultivate these habits and learn the rhythms we need to practice this view of the self-actualized Inner Child. This requires us to accept that sure, “there will be some scratches and scrapes,” but to experience more grace in our life, we must also embrace a tireless willingness to “pick each other up.” Doing so not as an act of charity, but one of mutual aid, involving no plan, no agenda, and just the Universe leaking out through you into the world starving for the love that lives within us all. Because to do so, is to “help each other get back on for another go, so to truly know how it feels to fly.”
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