These feet are stuck. Palms are frozen shut. Fingers arthritically rigid. Though the mind flows rich with experience, the writing of recent has been racing away when my pencil wishes to play. Wading deep into the intellectual abyss becomes equivalent now to cajoling a polished granite statue from its stoic fixed position. All manner of mental jiu jitsu stands ill equipped to grapple with aligning my desired outcome towards language while avoiding the lure of couch surfing and kitchen experimentation. I have longed to pen another review, poem or channel this fractured glimpse of insight lifted from Jah’kaya on raising her father. Write something revolutionary; salutary; salubrious; sublime. Wrangle these thoughts coursing through the wilderness of the mind into coherent dialogue. I have been living a life beyond my most impassioned adolescent imaginings. I had known these circles, connections and friendships were present for other people. Heard them in shared conversation. Offered advice on how to strengthen them. Silently envied them.
I had lived for too long inside of my own head composing internally the song of years spent quietly contemplating ideas, emotions, people and Earth in constant rotation. The evolution of adulthood and chance encounters arising resulted in me learning to live outside of my head if only for a short while. Long enough to build a kinship with others that we might gather together all who view the world through a similar lens. This reaching has found me indulging a restored love for urban cycling as Red, Bike & Green, the Pioneers and Critical Mass burn said imprint deeper. I grow courageous through the increasing risk of navigating city traffic. I have seen 2 bikes stolen in a period of 2 weeks and settled myself in present companionship with a Fuji Boulevard in spite of its mammoth frame. Aya Leadership Development Institute has expanded my parenting collective. Whereas once I was an involved father through formal schooling who engaged with fellow parents through the Parent Council or passing in hallways, I now know parents as friends and we reach agreements to bolster each other’s children to new levels of humanistic development.
I love and love deeply finding new light in the face Jah’kaya presents each day. I lecture her with all of the fervor my love has to offer. You shall not scoot by on my watch lacking the most basic skills of critical thinking or decisive debate. We teach each other. We learn one another. We grow together. I love my co-parent. We keep each other aware and tag team the responsibility for our child so that she can create no alliance of dissent between us two. We are strong in our pact to mold this human being for an impactful role in the world. I love friendships. There are so many new ones in bloom. I love exploration; curiosity; creativity; necessity; invention. This too has been been a time of ideas in bloom as I examine the depth of possibility and decide that nothing is beyond my reach. Everything is near; close. I can touch it if I choose. I can build if I test it and learn patiently from all of the resources at my disposal. Herbal infusions, lye soap, grain alcohol deodorant and coconut oil toothpaste live here. My brain is ripe with ideas about the world, the future, sustainability and a consistent reassessment of my personal and collective values in this life. The time spent on hiatus has found me grappling with all of these things. I need not forgive myself or atone for leaving writing alone while I grew in these experiences, but I can recognize how disorganized releasing all of these ideas at one time might have been.
I might have expressed some incomprehensible rant. Aren’t you glad I waited until it was clear inside of my own head first? Welcome home literati.