Reflections

Edification takes more than building blocks, mortar and pestle. It takes more than a plan and monetary investment. Edification takes more than landmarks and machines, milestones and tailoring. It takes more than sunrise and sunset and people willing to work betwixt the two. Edification takes more than books read and challenges surpassed. There is no denying the need for illumination, but edifying takes more than that too. Edification takes more than people whom simply call themselves your family or your friends without a stronger meaning behind it.

You see, in the end, you can have all these things and build the most beautifully solid fortress in the world, but in the end, if you do not build this fortress with Love, its walls will crumble alongside its foundation and brittle into the murkiest of seas, if only to prove that no house is as strong as a house built with Love. This fortress will not last because it can be torn asunder by hate for it; hate for the people who built it.

Ladies and gentlemen, at 31 years of age, I feel as strong as ever, because I know I am edified by Love. I give it, I receive it, and therefore I am it. Self-loved and loved by those whom, though I may be as much as 9,000 miles away, still find time within their hearts and their minds to remind me what I am made of. I am fortified by what is given to me daily, whether I am mentally focused on Love or not. You make me want to be better so that I can represent you better.

It is on this notion, I reflect.

I would like to send a huge ‘thank you’ out to those who despite speaking on July 23rd, called me on July 24th anyway to wish me a happy birthday. To those who I have not spoken to in nine months, but contacted me to wish me a happy birthday. To those who synchronized a watch with New Delhi’s very odd nine and a half hours time difference and called me around midnight my time; I thank you too. To those of you who gave me a birthday shout out on their blog, you have indeed become very special to me CincoSeis & Rusty. Thank you to those who sent me scheduled eCards. Thank you to those who shared a kind word with me and told me what I meant to you; everyone needs that type of encouragement. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Partingly, I say:

As I am Love. . .

I “am” you all. . .therefore. . .

I Love you all!!

1.5 Seconds

When we’re confronted by a light rain, or a gentle breeze, we have the tendency to overlook the power of nature. It is not often that we’re confronted with winds traveling over 100 miles per hour or waves 105 feet high. When such encounters with nature’s absolute power occurs, they are brief, but disastrous.

1.5 seconds. What would you do if you saw you had 1.5 seconds to live? This person, who resided on Sumatra Island, decided to take a picture of the impending Tsunami. I guess when we have time to think about death, we probably would look to do something more profound. But when confronted with the moment of seeing your death in the immediate future, perhaps you would continue to do, what it is you were thinking to do, at the moment you were to do it.

Then 1.5 seconds later, Puff! The memory of your last memory, stored on a memory card, only to be retrieved 6 months after the captured moment was known to occur. What would you do if you saw you had 1.5 seconds to live?

Albeit

Your intentions are pure, but your intent is malice and that's what makes things so bad. You fight for what you believe and you're good at being persuasive and that's what makes things so bad. You're a thought-provoking head case whose vocabulary knows no limits, and that's what makes things so bad. You're the most caring person in the world, when you want something in return and that's what makes things so bad.

I won't claim to have barriers or erected walls to what you do, even though I know this because I have seen it all. Your capabilities are many and you have succeeded at plenty and I know this because I have seen it all. You're sassy and sweet, but lose dainty when you devour meat, I know this because I have seen it all. To be with you is guilty pleasure, because you're not good for what we become, I know this because I have seen it all.

Tantamount to my existence I run with resistance, but I always return because that's how it should be. I never fall pray, because God made me that way and I know this because that's how it should be. But when in your limelight, I'm blinded by reminders of wrong-doing because that's how it should be. So despite my lazy pleas to have you release me, I won't go because that's how it should be.

A contradiction, my dear, of thought and of emotion, I cannot figure you out to say the absolute least. You have been the best thing ever and the worst of all kind, a conundrum to say the absolute least. And as I embark on "what's next" I rule out your favor, though I know you won't go to say the absolute least. So I move without steps, a classic misdemeanor at best, against life to say the absolute least.

Practicing C

It’s the other way around
The baby delivers the stork
Like good meat-eating
Off my sterling silver fork
I'm made of plastic ribs
So there is no real Eve
No woman for conception
To deliver my proper seed
I bathe in fresh air
Dry off in sanctified tides
Live off morsels of thought
Take this life of mine for a ride
Make edible my lust
For non-compulsory riches
No matrix to speak of
So I live between the glitches
My words come like hiccups
Unexpected, yet true
Sprinkled with a little growth
Represent my actions in lieu
Forever I will mean
Exactly what I do or what I say
It’s the only way insanity works
To all things abstract, I pray

You get it right

You know what?
You’re like that tea with the perfect tinge of honey
You’re like that wash that smells like that perfect mixture of detergent and fabric softener
That bouquet of flowers that bloom all at the same perfect time
That parking spot that opened up 1 minute before you got home
You get it right
And what’s more, you get it right the first time

You’re that unmistakable first impression that lasts someone a lifetime
You’re that movement perfect for the moment, like afros and dashikis in the 60s
You’re that perfect last bite of food on a plate, carved into the right savoring size
You’re that divot in the mattress that only fits my body
You get it right
And what’s more, you get it right the first time

I love you because you know how to love me
You know how to make my cereal in the morning and I’ll be damned if that ain’t important
You size me up when I come through the door at night
Know if I’ve had a bad day
Know if it’s been good
And know how to treat me for both scenarios
You nurse my ego
And toughen up my spirit when I’m acting weak
I never taught you how to do these things, but you know how anyway
You get it right
And what’s more, you get it right the first time

And so I send you these words that no one should ever be privileged enough to express
You bring out my best
Because you radiate your best
We are both blessed
I think you for all you do and there’s one simple reason why
You get it right
And what’s more, you get it right the first time

JayGee Quotable M

You never realize just how cool a breeze can be until you're in a place that's really hot.

You do, I do

You trip. . .
But I don’t trip
I sip
But you don’t sip
You reminisce
But I don’t miss
The sweet chocolate taste
Of your cocoa kiss

I dare
But you won’t dare
You fear
But I won’t fear
They snare
But we don’t snare
When we walk hand in hand
With our afro hair

You delight
But I won’t fight
I plight
But you won’t do rite
You gripe
But I won’t gripe
'cuz I won’t let it ruin
This warm mellow night

We got so many differences
You and me
It’s no wonder we act
So vehemently
Towards the existence
Of each other
Black sister
To black brother

But I love you always

Impatience

I am. . .impatient. . .to most; not to all. I can't stand to wait, so often I sit down for it. I wait on you, I wait on them, I wait on me. For what? I haven't the slightest idea, but I have grown impatient from waiting on it. I am looking for the next best thing; the next big thing and I know it hasn't come to me yet because I'm not moved yet. And so, I sit here, impatiently waiting on what will undoubtedly come. Hopefully it will beat death to me, but I can't be too sure. I just know my blood pressure is getting worse from fingernail biting and anxiety. Calcium and worry don't go together in case you're wonderin'. But I need a release from this bind that forces me to want to rush what's coming to me before it is ready to get to me.

And so self-introspect has only created more self-introspection. Prayer has only created more praying. Hope has only created more longing. And waiting has only created more impatience. I don’t want to be this way, but I cannot help it. For anyone whom has said ‘time’ is not real, has not wanted badly enough.

Time is the referee between two boxers. I am boxing against patience. And right now, he is winning. He is dictating the fight with measured jabs and terrific clock management. He has trained for this fight better than I have. My impatience never wants me to fight for something more than 1 or 2 rounds. So I come out swinging hoping for the knockout. But alas, when that ‘thing’ does not come so easily, I can be frustrated. I can lose. I become another notch on my opponent’s belt. I become. . .impatient.

And though I know that all good things come to those who wait, I long for those good things to come to those who have waited. I have waited; impatiently. But I have waited. I am tired of not knowing what it is I’m suppose to know about this life; this living. I wish to be satiated and no longer look to create the plans that add another 24 hours of age to me. I want to know unequivocal love. But I guess. . .first. . .I need to know patience. I am. . .impatient.

30th Birthday Speech

Some of you don’t know this about me, but I am fascinated by speeches. I like to write them, give them and read them, as well. Two of my most prized books are Say It Plain: A Century of Great African American Speeches by Catherine Ellis & Stephen Drury Smith and Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeches in History selected and introduced by William Safire (Thank you GW for lending me this book that I’ve never returned). They give you a wealth of speeches over various topics, genres and timeframes relevant for understanding what spawned each word.

Throw in Brotherman: The Odyssey of Black Men in America--An Anthology, by Herb Boyd and Robert L. Allen, and you’ve got yourselves quite a collection of reads. Though this particular book is not just speeches, it gives you an inside glance at the messages black men have conveyed over the years, in many different forms, whether it be poetry, long prose, short prose or oratory. I believe the ability to give a speech is a very powerful tool to have and probably more importantly, turn your emotion into words that instill your emotion in another person. One of the greatest things about speeches is that, in addition to having a mastery over your words, you must have a mastery over cadence. I work on it almost daily because it is a skill that I truly want to master.

Well, I’m nowhere near the playing field of the orators/authors cited in these three reads, but I want to one day get there. I’ve attached a toast I wanted to give at my 30^th birthday party, but never got/took the chance to. It was to be given prior to my leave to go abroad for a couple years. I came across it the other day and as I sat here and reflected on all of my family and friendships and the specialness of that evening, “truer words have never been spoken.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all for coming out tonight. I'm absolutely giddy with excitement this evening. You have to understand, that you all are my celebrities; a who's who of the future leaders of the world and representatives of my comfort zone when the rest of the world feels too daunting to face.

On the brink of his deathbed, a famous baseball player once quipped, "Today, I am the luckiest man on the face of this earth." for me and on this day, truer words have never been spoken.

Birthday parties are often used to celebrate the life and times of an individual. On today, I argue that supposition. Instead, I offer that a party like this can be used to celebrate those individuals who and whom have played an integral part in the making of that individual; those persons who have crafted and cared for me. Taught and schooled me. Scolded and molded me, are as much to be celebrated for as myself.

I am truly, truly grateful to have you in my life and to be a part of your lives.

So as I look to embark on the next adventure in my life, I implore you all to keep doing what you're doing. Be the guiding light in my life that keeps me moving forward to my greater destinations. And continue to be the centrifugal forces that keep me forever supplanted in your lives. Because the further we all move away from one another, the more thoughts and prayers we need to accompany us on our journeys.

So, I ask that you all raise a glass and join me, in a toast to yourselves. The single most important part of me. The part that makes me proud to call you my family, friends and confidantes. The part of me that makes me live another day, each and every day.

To my family: (You know I have to tell you all that I was reared by nothing but women) To the women of my family. Thank you, for coming together and figuring out just what it would take to raise a man. I owe you all a huge debt of gratitude.

To my friends. Thank you for grooming me to become a better friend and peer; colleague and integral part of your lives.

To you.

6 Words

I received a Myspace bulletin that read:

Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. The result was "For sale: baby shoes, never used."
(http://smithmag.net/sixwords/)

Here's an interesting and challenging activity. Try to compose YOUR story (the story of YOU) in EXACTLY six words (no more, no less). For some, this may be painful. (It's very hard to tell your whole story in six words.)

So I did attempt to compose MY story in exactly six words. It is. . .

Invisible man finds self amidst humanity.

So, tell me. . .what’s your story?

Here’s a question: If one of the sweetest oranges I’ve ever had came from a peel that looks like this, then what is the US government doing to make our oranges look. . .well. . .orange?

As is normal for me, I went online to do a bit of research and came across this website on the history of oranges that seems to know it all. Apparently, oranges start off as green, when they’re mature.

It will turn orange only if the cold temperature destroys the green chlorophyll pigments, allowing the yellow carotenoids underneath to show through. In warmer climates, oranges are always green; but, in the US, oranges are green only if they are picked in the fall before the first cold snap or if they are picked early in the spring when the tree is flooded with chlorophyll to nourish the coming new growth. Green oranges will also change colour if they are exposed to ethylene gas which, like the cold, breaks down the chlorophyll in the skin. Oranges are often dyed to attain the orange colour that consumers demand.

~Innvista

Let’s tag this one up to foreign exposure. For one, I didn’t know that the orange originated in India. Fun. Second, why is it more appealing to us if our oranges look orange? And third, what is this ethylene stuff they’re mentioning? Does it cause any damage to the human body?

Well, I have found out all of my answers. Turns out that you can’t spend your whole life being paranoid over every little thing, but this was an interesting lesson to learn while being lazy on a Saturday afternoon.