Almost a year ago now, on January 31, while conducting research for my book, I came across a poem by Georgia Douglas Johnson entitled, "Calling Dreams." I posted it along with the photo at the bottom of this post to my Facebook and Google+ pages, however, I didn't post it to my blog. To post the poem and photo on my blog without an introduction seemed an inadequate expression of what I was feeling. Although my social networks are me and are true to my being, my blog is an actual extension of me. There is no room for pretense; even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Here you get all of me: the strength, wisdom, vulnerabilities, insecurities, failures, and successes. So to have posted it would have been like expecting others to interpret my emotions for me instead of processing and working through them.
For much of my life, I've imprisoned myself in a box, cognizant of my abilities, but afraid, no, terrified of myself. I knew once I unleashed my gifts, there would be no going back. Once More erupted from the bowels of my existence in 2015, the box ceased to exist.
Words are guides and the right words strung together are guideposts.
"[...] I was to realize that my discomfort was due to the fact that I was operating far, too far, beneath my level; or in other words, I had more to give than was being demanded and I was being weighed down by the residue. (James Baldwin, Just Above My Head, 389)
Therefore, it should come as no surprise that "Calling Dreams" still lingers within my being close to 12 months later. As I prepare to transition into a new season in my life, I call myself to walk worthy in the life of which I was purposed.
I leave you all with "Calling Dreams" along with the perfect picture, in my opinion, for this poem.
The right to make my dreams come true
I ask, nay, demand of life,
Nor shall fate's deadly contraband
Impede my steps, nor countermand.
Too long my heart against the ground
Has beat the dusty years around,
And now, at length, I rise, I wake!
And stride into the morning break!
-Georgia Douglas Johnson, 1922