Writing.
I don’t write much. In fact, I don’t write at all, but I’ve always been intrigued by words. Writing them. Speaking them. Singing them. Learning new ones. Learning them in different dialects, languages, and take my stab at various accents from time to time. I suppose communicating is a big part of who I am.
Communication.
Though important to me, it is with insufferable vulnerability that I let you know up front, I am not really great at it. I don’t know if I’d even consider myself good at it. In theory it is what makes my world a better place, but in truth, my truth, I dodge it every chance I get.
Grace.
That’s why I’m here now. In a room on the twelfth floor of Loews Hotel Chicago, sitting in the dark while my wife and son (my most prized gifts) sleep away the morning. It’s after 2am, the Downtown Chicago streets are much more scarce than they were a few hours ago, but lights trail by every few seconds because this is a “big” city (I write that in quotes to show emphasis—I’ve always wanted to live in a big city) and the traffic streams are as steady as the wind. The Windy City is resting chilly in the 20s this morning, and though this room is set to 70 I’m quite certain the wind chill in here is below freezing. But I like it this way. Cold. Slow. Steady. A stark contrast from my upbringing, but that’s a different story. A better story. For now, we are discussing grace, and though I’ve strayed from that topic, just know that my fingers are dripping in it. My life is a canvas painted in the color of grace. The Artist painted me with vivid colors and varying shades, but the splatters of shit, well, I assume those have been added by Evangelical leaders and angry Republicans. Also a different story. Not a better story.
Me.
If you’ve made it this far, dear reader, then you’ve walked with me through my attempt to write, to share, and to keep dreaming. You’ve already recognized my scattered thoughts and rambling words. The future writings will be more focused, I suppose, but maybe not depending on how I’m feeling the moment my fingers hit the keyboard. I am grateful for you and look forward to offering my whole life in a few words.
good life and good love,
emory
Love it! So glad Twitter rambling led me to you today. 🤜🏻🤛🏾