Parsing.
I find it useful to peel back the armor one wears and to take a look under the hood of what makes us who we are. The experiences—positive and negative—that shape our development are worth reflecting upon and fully processing, lest they become sticking points in our psyche that become obstacles to us. There’s a lot of the good, joyful, and uplifting in my life, but it’s untruthful to share only the positive without also laying out what causes me a little consternation.
A few things…
Primarily, I’ve found myself contemplating again what it means to be black in our world, not just in the United States. Chiefly, it means devising an overall survival plan for how one interacts with the world once there’s an awareness about how it interacts with you. This is not always consciously done, but it’s almost always informed by upbringing and encounters; one gains a keen understanding that perception is reality, and may or may not choose to cultivate an image to follow suit as needed. It is the constant understanding that no two experiences are the same, and that those who have no inherent comprehension cannot fully grasp the reality, but can only present a range of offerings from ignorance and dismissal to platitudes, solidarity, and the willingness to embrace and celebrate what makes us all different from each other. It is knowing that people react to the world around them based on their own understanding as well, and either accepting or rejecting the idea that not everyone is willing to look past their own knowledge—again, this is not always a conscious choice.
For me, lately, it has been the willingness and the patience to accept that everyone in my life either strives to understand/learn/grow, is unsure how to proceed, is unaware of their place in a society that tends to be paternalistic and thereby damaging, or actively rejects the notion that prejudice is a problem to be solved (and once sniffed out, those people do not remain in my life). It also presents a challenge to me; I must also continually examine myself. While black, I am also a heterosexual male, and do have the responsibility to understand how my place in the world is potentially damaging to another. My professional function is a visible one, and there are responsibilities and burdens that follow—this is why I write… to unburden myself.
I also found myself, up to about a month ago, carrying the weight of my world so heavily on my shoulders and affording myself little time for relaxation and decompression. It’s an unhealthy practice to neglect balance in my life, as I’ve sought so strongly to achieve and maintain some semblance of it. Recently, I’ve allowed myself to be open to outlets for recreation (I do not count my physical training as recreation), and to enjoy the little moments that make life worth living, despite the long shadows cast by COVID-19, tension brought on by a renewed vigor for racial justice, hurricanes and wildfires. I count myself privileged to be able to find those moments, despite knowing their critical importance for my well-being.
I learned that it’s important to give yourself patience and grace—and to lean on others. There is no shame in asking for help, no harm in sharing burdens with others. Life is a marathon, not a sprint… and marathons are hard enough without added baggage that you carry alone.
I found that protecting one’s peace and joy are worthwhile pursuits, as is nurturing the same. When you dedicate yourself to this, and connect with the likeminded with the same goals—ceding control of life and guiding yourself gently and deliberately along your path in life—it is an awesome thing to behold.
What has caused me the most introspection lately are events that led me to take a sharp razor to my interpersonal relationships. First—back to the point of knowing how some feel about public demonstrations, while failing (and often refusing) to understand the “why” in favor of reacting to the “what,” has led me to pare down the social circle that had grown on me. The other—and this may become rather lengthy while saying very little in terms of specifics—relates to boundaries. I’ve been dealing for a few months with having one crossed in a way that caused some trauma. I have no interest in airing the details—though I do recall them—beyond calling it sexual abuse/unwanted contact, but the difficulty in mentally rehashing behavior from someone once considered friendly is related to self-perception. Upon the realization of what had happened, I immediately and wordlessly moved to shut this person out of my life and not let it become a distraction to me, but… the more it lingered, the more I needed to explore the feelings I was experiencing. Cycling through shame, anger, withdrawal and dismissal led to a disconnected state of being that, for a time, impacted my ability to form new and meaningful relationships.
In the grand scheme, though what happened was neither violent nor injurious, I was in pain and failed to notice for a while. It bothered me a lot more, and for far longer, than I anticipated or care to admit.
I have a far stronger sense of self-worth than in years past, which lends itself to fostering pride—and the kind of stubbornness that’s not always helpful in situations like this one. Rather than confronting my own internal turmoil, I soldiered on, dismissing what I was feeling. I didn’t keep this up for long—my compulsion to deal with my own mental/emotional state led me to see that I’d been greatly angered by having my trust betrayed, made worse by it having been in an such odious manner. The blessing in this is that I reaffirmed my responsibility to ensure that I treat everyone I meet with dignity, even if the same treatment may not be returned.
I buried the lead, and in examining my reasons for doing so, realized a deep empathy for those who have survived sexual assault and endured the aftermath—I hesitated to write, hesitated to publish, redacted details, rewrote the entire page, worried about the perception of myself, worried that this act would invite scrutiny or retribution, and stared at the words for an extended period, editing more carefully than usual. Ultimately, my aim is measured expression (as it always is); I have neither the desire for more than that nor the intent to confront the unnamed party (I may never will), because I like to think I have let go of the incident and the feelings around it.
At the end of the day…
Reflect, reset, rest, and respond to life with the optimistic energy that keeps you going. Trust me, it helps. It is possible to do this alone, to a degree, but it is much more satisfactory to incorporate another when you can. Keeps me in good working order, either way.
I’m fine, really. One of my strengths is synthesis. Everyone we meet, everything we do, and everywhere we go teaches us lessons. I’ve parsed out mine, and am better (much better) for them. With all this said, I can button that armor back up and go back to doing what I do best.