CONSIDER ME A WHISPER. Consider me a tiny voice, as soft as a slow wind running its velvet fingers over pebbled asphalt at 2 a.m. Receive me as you would the first blush of day’s light, reflected from the eager skin of an apple. I’m a minuscule mirrored cinema. A voice that gently suggests they truly are mad, you know. Cast away your doubt, be still, and listen to them. The news barkers sharing world gore and speaking of war as if a football score. The virtual storefronts peddling doubt and self-interest. They who hog the mic, they who sell the mic.
Be still and listen. Be still and watch. Can you see? They hate everything about you, and themselves, too.
It’s okay that you were convinced and connived into thinking it makes sense to punish the weak, abhor the poor, worship the predatory, elevate the superficial, strangle the truth until it flees your language, and despise the despised. You are a pure soul in a poisoned land. A hostile land. A land and society that wants to exploit you, steal from you, suck at you, chew at you, use you, abuse you, discard you, disgrace you, erase you. You learned what you needed to learn to fit in and survive. Your heart screamed at you before you learned to think about it: THESE ARE HAUNTED SOULS WHO WILL DESTROY YOUR HEART IF YOU HAND IT TO THEM….
If I wrote a story that described a child’s journey into a corrupt society like ours–and I mean the U.S.A., as that is where I was born and where I have always lived—I would analogize it, I’d…wait. I’m not gonna blow that idea here. I’ll simply add another chapter to my 3rd book. Well, I mean my 4th, if you count the one already published. It’s a cool idea.
I’ll come back to the books.
I guess my point is the really unconscious and cruel shapes of society large and small; the ignorance that manifests in the ways we so often speak, expect, sell, value, legislate, reward, and live has always stuck out to me. Bizarrely. I felt as a child I was from a distant future. Because I was truly baffled that even grownups couldn’t see the pointlessness, hypocrisy, cruelty, and greed—all ways we function at a low level of self-love/awareness/consciousness—rampant in so much of what they were showing and teaching me about themselves.
Like a dayglo color that didn’t fit in with anything around it, these splotches of glitch, of brokenmindedness, of failure of the human spirit to rise and show itself properly came at me, revealed themselves to me.
Such as how hostile the culture is. When I look around at the way rules are structured, human interaction is prescribed, who is punished for doing what, who is rewarded for doing what, the way we are spoken to by politicians and TV personalities, the way children are treated, the way we think of homes, and health, and neighbors….
The truth is we are so inured to the undeveloped soul of our society, and to the crass, thuggish, bullying, immature voice our nation uses to converse with itself that we are even able to immerse ourselves in the required soul-distorting conceptual acrobatics without getting violently ill!
Well, wait. That’s not true at all. We do get ill, in time. We get very ill. But we treat ourselves harshly with medicines, too. We are taught here to take flight from the feeling. From the feeling that might tell us the truth about a world so confused as ours.
So hear me as a friendly voice. As one that says You are right to feel revulsion and anger at so much of what you see out there. You are right to find their heroes and legends revolting, to feel insulted, to feel a great sorrow for what we have settled for so far. Your heart speaks truth. Trust that voice more than any other one.
Consider a thing true only when your heart signs off on it, no matter what your mind blurts.
Untangle yourself from this poisoned vine of manipulation and pain, this media IV drip, this confusion.
Return to yourself, to your center, to stillness.
So yes, I am currently working on 3 books, tho not each one every day. One by one, as they are all in various stages of completion. I’m pretty excited. I took a long hiatus from creating anything that needed too much time, energy, or thought, and that was because when I started the process of those first chaotic months or years of decolonization of my thinking (are we ever done?) in 2006, I realized my entire viewpoint and worldview was being shifted. I could feel the severe turns and canting of the frame. I was coming to understand more about all manner of things from race to world history to the degree I’d been brainwashed by the very same confused thought and points of view I spoke of earlier in this post. It comes at us in our first days and does not relent. Even when we see what is happening. And that is why tearing away from it, finally, we do it in layers, and the process is often destructive. I’ve seen a few lives and jobs and professional reputations and relationships upended when a Person of Color begins that journey.
Here, I think of the fourth book of Narnia, The Silver Chair. The end of enchantment.
So think of me as Prince Rilian. And Puddleglumm, too.
Anyway, after a long period of chasing whatever job I could to make cash, I’ve also begun making more and more time for my own work. You know how it is as an artist, writer, etc. Like a hunger, like a need, like a beautiful thought that won’t leave your mind, work calls to you. That always feels so good to me. When I’m creating. It is so calming.
I will be back around soon with more news about these books, which are all separate genres.
Meanwhile, take care of yourself people. Remember not to stare too long into oncoming headlights. Your hands will start to steer you into a wreck.