PSA: In All Beginnings Dwells a Magic Force

"Life may summon us to new races"

As every flower fades and as all youth

Departs, so life at every stage,

So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,

Blooms in its day and may not last forever.

Since life may summon us at every age

Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,

Be ready bravely and without remorse

To find new light that old ties cannot give.

In all beginnings dwells a magic force

For guarding us and helping us to live.

Serenely let us move to distant places

And let no sentiments of home detain us.

The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us

But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.

If we accept a home of our own making,

Familiar habit makes for indolence.

We must prepare for parting and leave-taking

Or else remains the slave of permanence.

Even the hour of our death may send

Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,

And life may summon us to newer races.

So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.

Hermann Hesse

This poem was the only item in my apartment here in Fort Lauderdale when I moved in a year ago. It was posted on my refrigerator, probably left by the last tenant. A year later, I could not have foreseen the significance of this poem until now. Mr. Hesse was correct in his assumption that at every stage of life comes a different endeavor. We must not be afraid to depart, or to take on arduous tasks. Ok so that’s enough setup and hoopla...

I have decided to take my talents to California. (San Diego)

And “by taking my talents” I mean relocate, move, transfer, reposition etc. It was a difficult decision, but I am comfortable with my choice. Although the gap between my friends, family and everyone will be widened geographically, I carry our various memories, experiences, and interactions over the past years to my new home. I expect to thrive creatively and prosper financially. Gratitude to all the support I have received thus far from all friends, family, co-workers, gentlemen, gentle-ladies, professors, pimps, OG’s and Triples OG’s.  

The Chronicle will continue...on the West Coast

Yay yee!!!

I am We.

He Wasn't Nestled In A Snuggie

 He didn’t have a dream He had a plan

As of right now must of us are doing what we would normally do on a day off, sleep late, eat breakfast at lunch time, stalk our exes on Facebook and watch re-runs of our favorite sitcom on television. This agenda doesn’t require much thought, effort, or physical labor. Nor is this a fantasy, an illusion, a myth, or ... a dream.

You may be thinking now, where is he going with this? I’m sure everyone reading this knows the reason we can sleep late and lounge on our couch on this blessed Monday, is because today we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. Last week I struggled with myself whether I wanted to post something on Dr. King and his legacy to honor his birthday. It seemed cliché, played out, and not original gentleman-ish.  I mean really, what else could I say about the man that hasn’t already been said by someone else? Then it hit me:

Dr. King didn’t have a dream... he had a plan.

For so long we have been conditioned to think that one night Dr. King fell asleep on his Queen size Sealy Posturepedic mattress and dreamt of little black children and little white children playing “Just Dance 3” on Nintendo Wii together.  I for one agree with the King, I think that Just Dance 3 is a great game and everyone should actually play it together. But that’s neither here nor there. Back to the matter at hand, Dr. Martin Luther da King Jr., wasn’t slumbering at all when his vision sprang forth.  As you may know, to dream one does not have to be laid at a restful position with his/her eyes shut. We have all been in situations at work or school laboring to stay awake in a boring class or listening to a monotone supervisor go over new details of an insurance plan. And what do we do? We let our minds wander... This, my friend is called daydreaming.

So let us review... we have established; to dream one can be asleep or awake.

 Now, let me introduce you to a third type of dreaming. The type of dreaming that elects black Presidents in America, the kind of dreaming that created the idea of the McNugget, this form of dreaming  supports equality for everyone, the type of dreaming that allows a player to take their talent to South Beach, the sort of dreaming that built the pyramids. This third category of dreaming is called: dreaming with an open mind.  

Dreaming consists of our brains imagining and processing ideas in our head... we call this, having a thought. Dr. King is best remembered for having dreamed. At that time, many of his dreams seemed highly unlikely, far-fetched and even out of this world. In a world where two black celebrities can make the world stop, and relish in awe, at the birth of their child (shout out to Baby Blue Ivy) we know nothing is impossible.    

Yes, the late great Dr. King did dream, however, we’ve grown to believe he was nestled in a Snuggie, snoozing on his loveseat, while having these miraculous visions. Dr. King and many others before and after him used their open mind to dream, implement and follow through on their thoughts, ideals, and desires.

Discoveries and ideas we have are nothing, unless we share it with someone. Until that time, it’s a well-kept secret. Today, tomorrow, and everyday after, we honor Dr. King by sharing our dreams with others, dreaming with an open mind, and bring those dreams to reality through planning and tireless effort. We all have a little bit of Dr. King in us.  Today I ask you to acknowledge the king and queen in yourself, and the majestic aura in others.

Now back to your regularly scheduled program.

I am We

At the Table

"Gather 'round party goers as if your still livin" - Slick Rick

Now that the holiday season is over, everyone has stuffed their face and fed their bellies. Break is over, school is in session, so let’s feed your mind.

A few weeks ago a college friend of mine called me after a solo lunch date at Phillipe Chow Restaurant in New York City. I could hear the distress in his voice. It wasn’t because he had food poisoning. As a matter of fact, the food was great, the drinks were tasty and the server was knowledgeable and helpful. The cause of his anguish was rooted in a deeper difficulty.

In the short span of an hour, amidst the jostling and continuous movement that is New York City, 33 East 60^th Street & Madison Ave to be exact. My good friend and fellow brother, Paul, came to a conclusion. Unsettling and disappointing as it may be, a conclusion none the less.

On the phone, Paul recounted his mid -afternoon meal with himself at this established eatery. As he sat and enjoyed his velvet chicken over white rice (which he chewed 71 times) he couldn’t help but overhear to his right, an Asian couple discussing plans to expand their franchise, while sharing a batch of spring rolls. To his left a business luncheon between two Caucasians, who are discussing ideas to strength their business strategies. And in the middle sits Paul, a black, ambitious young man at the table… alone.  He finishes the last mouthful of chicken, sips down the rest of his beverage, signs the check and he leaves.

Why are we not discussing which banking institution has the best rates for our children’s trust fund?  Why are we not devising plans to open business' that benefits the community and not just our pockets?  Why are we not at the table together?

… It’s time to eat.

I AM WE.