A dear friend sent me some pictures last night of one of my many homes. She told me she just needed to get away for a few hours. I messaged her back a thank you for the pictures and that sometimes you have to go back to your roots to find yourself. For me that meaning is multi-layered. I have my more recent roots buried in my recuperation and mental healing. Deeper still in my going back to school and discovering my potential. Still deeper in the years I spent “wondering the desert” trying to find myself. The whole time stumbling through life trying to be a father, a mother, a husband, and a caregiver.
Writing that makes me feel like I’m tooting my own horn. But in reality, no one is many more important than anyone else. Life’s experiences make us who we are. I live in a culture of “my four and no more” of “take no prisoners”, and “herd mentality”. I am truly a round peg trying to fit into a square hole. Because while this shit was being stuffed into my head. The words of my families God tell me to be selfless, to be giving of myself, and to love my neighbor. Interesting where those words ending up going in this selfish, paranoid, xenophobic world
But this is a story about who we were and where we can actually find ourselves. I often mention, “you can’t live above your raisin' “, and Lord knows that’s true. Didn’t someone once say, “you can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig”. I give up trying to change minds years ago. I believe what I believe and I’m sure you do too. But at the root of it, does your heart really believe in hate and superiority? Life is so much more than world domination. It’s about love, discovering your potential, and being kind. Maybe it’s time to cultivate around that root a little more.