The other night, I had one of the best dinners of my life.
Downtown Newark.
Black owned restaurant w/ good service.
(you know how Black folks could be, as much as I hate to say it)
Good, healthy food.
Summer evening.
Money in my pocket.
Already a checklist for greatness. But it’s just the appetizer.
The main dish:
Tracee and Jason, my two best friends.
For dessert:
Love with a scoop of non-stop laughter.
Smiles in a doggy-bag.
Give thanks for life.
-Amari
Friday, August 3, 2007
N'Dumbi
(editor's note: a few days old, but you know how it get)
I was reading this book by this African brother who was talking about initiation. He was saying how folks in the West seem to romanticize this idea of the initiatory experience without understanding what it really is. It’s not just spending a few weeks in the bush, learning some skills, and coming back as men and women. It is a time/series of intense preparation for the realization (in the sense of both perceiving and making real, manifesting) of the gifts that the individual has brought with him/her to this life; it is the confirmation of life purpose. But what he says that’s interesting is that folks in the West need to realize that we pass through initiatory experiences everyday. Adversity, he says, is initiatory, for it prepares us in some way, teaches us, and hones skills if we are insightful enough to understand it as such, that will assist us in the fulfillment of our life purpose.
All right. I try not to make things bigger than they are. But I get to thinking about my life and these recent few years of movement, transition, and transformation. Over the past three years, I have spent about half of that time outside of the country, the place of my birth and rearing, my primary point of reference in a developing worldview. And I suppose that it makes sense, if we are to follow the belief outlined above. While I may be past the typical age of initiation for most traditional African societies (some point near puberty), I am well within the age range of those Africans sequestered, brutalized and enslaved in what became the largest adversarial phenomenon the world has ever known.
Understand: I am in no way comparing my struggle over the past few years with slavery. I am, however, illustrating that this particular age range, let’s say from 15-30, has historically been a time when Black people, specifically men, find themselves in positions of adversity, positions from which they are to make decisions that will influence and shape the rest of their lives. While this is a precious age for white folks as well, I’m saying that for us, the stakes is high…and we don’t make a habit of concerning ourselves with white folks.
This is who we are…or at least where we are. Look anywhere in the Black world and you will see folks of this age, once again specifically men, involved in some sort of adversarial movement, whether it be for work, school, the military, prison, some greater spiritual calling, etc.
And there’s me.
Six months in Brazil. 6 months! It is such a long, short time. You feel me? I mean, it flew by, but when I think of the things that I went through, when I review the perceivable growth that has occurred in this time, I am blown away. Even more so thinking about the more subtle lessons or the lessons that only reveal themselves in time. I feel so good about life. I feel so good about myself and us. But I must emphasize, this time was not no vacation. I saw plenty a-dark day. Adversity was as consistent a theme as tropical weather. I was faced with situations that questioned my whole belief system. I had to confront myself in brutally honest ways. And I was far away from Ethiopian food. It wasn’t no vacation.
Tomorrow, I will step back into the United States and meet myself for the first time again. I can’t front like I’m not a little anxious to see who it is I’ll meet.
The perfectionist in me wants to be at peak flyness already; he would feel disappointed if I haven’t yet mastered patience, for instance, or the ability to control myself when confronted with a smiling daughter of Mama Africa.
But this perfectionist. I wonder if he realizes that he’s self-defeating? I will be who I am and will have to accept me as such. Tryna rush who I will become would be against nature, that is, imperfect.
So, we’ll see how the long awaited moment goes. I’m feeling good though. Ready for the next level of intiation. I think I’ma like that dude. What about you?
-Amari
I was reading this book by this African brother who was talking about initiation. He was saying how folks in the West seem to romanticize this idea of the initiatory experience without understanding what it really is. It’s not just spending a few weeks in the bush, learning some skills, and coming back as men and women. It is a time/series of intense preparation for the realization (in the sense of both perceiving and making real, manifesting) of the gifts that the individual has brought with him/her to this life; it is the confirmation of life purpose. But what he says that’s interesting is that folks in the West need to realize that we pass through initiatory experiences everyday. Adversity, he says, is initiatory, for it prepares us in some way, teaches us, and hones skills if we are insightful enough to understand it as such, that will assist us in the fulfillment of our life purpose.
All right. I try not to make things bigger than they are. But I get to thinking about my life and these recent few years of movement, transition, and transformation. Over the past three years, I have spent about half of that time outside of the country, the place of my birth and rearing, my primary point of reference in a developing worldview. And I suppose that it makes sense, if we are to follow the belief outlined above. While I may be past the typical age of initiation for most traditional African societies (some point near puberty), I am well within the age range of those Africans sequestered, brutalized and enslaved in what became the largest adversarial phenomenon the world has ever known.
Understand: I am in no way comparing my struggle over the past few years with slavery. I am, however, illustrating that this particular age range, let’s say from 15-30, has historically been a time when Black people, specifically men, find themselves in positions of adversity, positions from which they are to make decisions that will influence and shape the rest of their lives. While this is a precious age for white folks as well, I’m saying that for us, the stakes is high…and we don’t make a habit of concerning ourselves with white folks.
This is who we are…or at least where we are. Look anywhere in the Black world and you will see folks of this age, once again specifically men, involved in some sort of adversarial movement, whether it be for work, school, the military, prison, some greater spiritual calling, etc.
And there’s me.
Six months in Brazil. 6 months! It is such a long, short time. You feel me? I mean, it flew by, but when I think of the things that I went through, when I review the perceivable growth that has occurred in this time, I am blown away. Even more so thinking about the more subtle lessons or the lessons that only reveal themselves in time. I feel so good about life. I feel so good about myself and us. But I must emphasize, this time was not no vacation. I saw plenty a-dark day. Adversity was as consistent a theme as tropical weather. I was faced with situations that questioned my whole belief system. I had to confront myself in brutally honest ways. And I was far away from Ethiopian food. It wasn’t no vacation.
Tomorrow, I will step back into the United States and meet myself for the first time again. I can’t front like I’m not a little anxious to see who it is I’ll meet.
The perfectionist in me wants to be at peak flyness already; he would feel disappointed if I haven’t yet mastered patience, for instance, or the ability to control myself when confronted with a smiling daughter of Mama Africa.
But this perfectionist. I wonder if he realizes that he’s self-defeating? I will be who I am and will have to accept me as such. Tryna rush who I will become would be against nature, that is, imperfect.
So, we’ll see how the long awaited moment goes. I’m feeling good though. Ready for the next level of intiation. I think I’ma like that dude. What about you?
-Amari
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