Headed home soon. Done with the Seattle retreat. I didn’t write nearly as much as intended and I failed to write in the schedule book all but two days. It isn’t ideal to leave feeling like I don’t have a lock on managing the writer’s life. It is dope, however, that I feel sunk into the world in which I am writing and can, over time, continue to dig deeper and pull out connections and stories this world yearns to be told.
Now I go home to the office space and a daily routine that is less than ideal. I need to grow it and change it in a way that grows and changes me as a person into a better person. I need to balance it all with the teaching and bring the passion I have for that job back into play instead of compartmentalizing these disparate parts of myself.
Some Thoughts:
- I mistakenly labeled yesterday’s blog as a Friday reflection. I really thought it was Friday!
- Bill Russell died. I remember encountering the man once on a Southwest flight. He was minding his own business. He had A ticket seating and was wearing his NBA 75 jacket–the one in black. I moved past him and whispered, “Thank you.” He probably didn’t hear me. Maybe he hears me now. Thank you. You helped create a pathway for black men to hold space and voice in this country.