Black Book |

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It seems that I’ve a bit of time on my hands now. The month of March has been one marked by many thresholds and transitions. March afforded me a trip into unknown territory – Costa Rica. Upon returning from my trip, I was elated to learn that I earned my longevity raise at work only to receive a termination letter in the mail two weeks later indicating that my last day at work would be in a week’s time. Many people like myself got caught in the machine that is city government with its budget issues, civil service exams, lists, and layoffs. Another termination letter. Another victim of bad timing and circumstance. One door abruptly closed. Another door opened. An unannounced opportunity.

After getting over the shock of being laid off, I soon realized that there is a silver lining around the pink slip.

I now had the time to figure out my next steps. Instead of grasping for straws, I could now reach out an try to grasp my dreams. I could now realize my potential rather than get caught up in the quicksand of stagnation and mediocrity.

The opportunity that I would seek would not fall into my lap (maybe – who knows). I would have to search from within and without to find it. Many people seek a job to survive; I had to seek out my life’s work in order to thrive. I could not get caught up in the vise of negative thoughts, limited vision, limited thinking. If my life’s work is my holy grail, I had to remain positive. I had to take that risk – more calculated than reckless.

In my recent absence from my 9-5 existence, I’ve had many moments to myself. Somedays I welcome the quiet of the mind with the hope of achieving clarity. Other days, I do not wish to be alone with my thoughts. The process of self-examination is a necessary yet frustrating and fulfilling experience (if that makes any sense). On those days in which sifting through my own thoughts is a task in itself, I would sometimes sift through stacks of journals, writings, books, and photos from my past.

During one of my excavations, I came across the following black journal you see above.

Back in 2002, I bought this little black journal in a quaint shop in Chicago’s Chinatown. Since that time, I had filled it’s lines with my own words. A few years ago, I set this journal aside. I cannot recall the reason why. When scanning through each page, I soon realized that the words placed within these now tattered covers lifted me through many trying episodes in my life – a period of uncertainty at Northwestern University, the repentant return of the prodigal son to Texas, the passing of my dear little brother, and my rough transition into New York. Each threshold that I crossed tempered my spirit with both hard and soft lessons, and the words in this little black book documented this journey. This black book contained my triumphs, sadness, fears, questions, answers, train of thought, poetry, novel ideas, tangents, rants, and most importantly – my hopes. For all of these years, this book has been unraveling and gathering dust waiting for me to unearth it from underneath a mountain of books – to mine its pages for its treasures.

The cover of this black book is lined with stitched images of of growth – trees and flowers in bloom. I finally realize that all of the cryptic lines that I wrote during my yesteryears were seeds scattered across the page. The time was not right or ripe to harvest those words back then, yet the time to reap the harvest is now. I have much more searching to do. I have much to act upon.

Spring is a welcome threshold for me pass though since it represents new beginnings and the blossoming of ideas, creativity, and growth. In my moments of anxiousness and weakness, I bring myself back to my strong sense of self and this belief.

I would rather thrive than simply survive.

When God closes one door, he opens another.

Good night,