This afternoon, yes afternoon, I jumped in the shower to begin a day that would consist of me packing a bag of dirty clothes, eating a cup o’ noodles, drinking a half a glass of Schwepp’s, and hopping the train to the Meatpacking District to drop off a few macaroons to a lady down there, and jump on the Starlight Express to make my way for Charlottesville.
I finished my shower over an hour ago and I’m still sitting on the bed naked with my towel over my knees and sensitive areas to keep the computer from burning anything fragile. I’m thinking about this voice that came to me in the shower. It’s not uncommon, especially when I turn my back to the shower head and increase the temperature and let the water hit my lower neck with my eyes closed. This time is different. This time, that voice, a voice that doesn’t speak aloud but you hear it anyway, asked, “do you realize what could happen if Black men were able to discover their divine self? Why aren’t you showing other Black men how to do it.”
Who told this speaker I’ve been able to discover my divine self? And if I have, who told this speaker that in spite of what my 2015 goal list said, I’m ready to throw out my ego and move toward a life I don’t know for certain I’d be proud of on my death bed.
But I can’t stop thinking about it now. I blame Janna M. Hall mostly for Funkadelic last night. I think about George putting Eddie in a room full of amps and telling him to play like his mother just died. I think about Eddie finding his divine self in that room, and no matter how many covers will come from Maggot Brain, there will only be divinity in that one.
And this has absolutely nothing to do with religion.
I’m still not able to fully comprehend how I found the amount of vulnerability I needed to find who I was in that field, and in that living room, and in that hospital waiting room, and on the other side of a Facebook message.
I did it though, huh? Yeah. I guess it’s not about showing others how to do it. It’s showing others what I did, and letting them tune it to fit them, eh?
Shit. I don’t know. But it’s 2:30 and I should get dressed. Feels like a long day ahead.