Peace Yall,
Live and Direct from the Temple, it’s me! I’m late with the blog this week because life has been happening. Some heavy stuff is going on, but ultimately, it’s all bueno. I hope this one finds you well and thriving. Enjoy.
True,
da’shon is.
"That just happened!"
BLACK LIKE ME?
My boy invited his friends over to critique his art. It turned into a great discussion about being Black. It occurred to me that all of these Black intellectuals were degreed, articulate and well informed. As we came together over fried chicken and potato salad to share stories of our journey, I sensed a familiar something. Although we share a cultural background, I still got the feeling that they didn’t see what I see. My ego would have me believe it’s because I don’t have a degree in anything. “They’re just smarter than you.” Spirit knows better. Regardless of the setting it’s my nature to rebel, to seek difference. I believe that even when we come together as one, we must always honor individuality. It helps us to evolve. –My mantra: appreciate the similar and celebrate the different.
MY ADDIDAS
A crew of us went to an art show at the Addidas store. Nice turn out, and I ran into some familiar faces I hadn’t seen in a while. One of which was the DJ Dibiasi. We met a couple years ago when Kembo and I did a Wednesday nite set called “Port au Patois” (don’t ask). I heard he could spin, so I invited him to get on in between sets. Kid is nice. Now his name is everywhere. Anywho, I’m looking around the space like, “I can rock this place.” So I’m talking to my dude Jose who runs the spot; he used to come to our Wednesdays. And he invited me out to spin on April 18. Nice one. Now I gotta get some fresh kicks for the occasion…
ASSISTED LIVING
It seems my dream team is finally coming together. I (virtually) met a cool woman who seems to have the ability to help me forward a project. I’ve been working on this so long that I can’t help but be optimistic about things manifesting. They are! Plus I’ve got two homies in Dallas who have just been waiting for me to get my $#!+ together so they can work their magic. –I now see my ideal life coming into view. Give thanks!
Something I wanna address…
SUPER CONSCIOUS
Black consciousness has always been a curious notion to me. When I was in high school (88-91) knowing ones Blackness was becoming popular. Thanks to crews like Native Tongues, Public Enemy, and X-Clan, kids were seeing themselves in a new light. We felt a pride that we weren’t able to find up until that point. But instead of unity, I saw teenage egos create a divide. If you weren’t “conscious” then you were an Uncle Tom worthy of a beat down. There was still something missing.
This past week I’ve seen themes of self-loathing and self-love being played out repeatedly. A panel discussion about light verses dark skin left 12 year old girls in tears as they shared their accounts. A couple, both of biracial heritage, spoke to me about not being Black enough. Even 60 years after the “Doll Test” was first conducted, this week’s new results still stir up more questions than answers. -The obvious and subtle brainwash that has been perpetrated on the people of Earth is astounding.
Back in high school, what really confounded me were the “Super Conscious” Black kids. These are my people who know history, read Malcolm X, were at every Spike Lee joint on opening night, and started giving up perms for a natural. And if you didn’t have a distain for everything non-Black, then you weren’t Black enough. You guessed it; in most cases I didn’t quite make the cut. Unlike most of them, I was traveled. I had experience that can’t be had growing up on the block. I’d met people and seen things that afforded me a broader world-view. But try explaining that to teenage militants who were just learning about Huey P. Newton! They weren’t tryin’ to hear what was something missing.
I had never been more proud to be Black than my first adult trip to Europe. Ironic though it seems, seeing my beauty reflected in the eyes of “strangers” gave me another perspective to consider. The first part of my life I hated my dark skin and nappy hair and big lips! But my self-loathing was hand delivered by unsuspecting agents. There has only been one white person who ever had the gall to call me nigger to my face. I was about 7. But my bothers and sisters have been the more reliable sources of hate. So to be in countries where people don’t know me, yet celebrate my swagger was eye opening. By that summer of ’98 I was walking my brand of Blackness. My dark skin and long nappy hair became my badge of pride. Men admired, women swooned. That missing thing was coming into view.
What I recognized in high school is what I know now: there is only one consciousness. What we experience as separation is the ego’s need to feel superior. And for a race of people who have been shitted on for centuries, the want to reverse the current is understandable. But it’s silly and futile in the end. My blessed upbringing has put me in a unique position to understand the truth, as I see it. I am proud to be a Super Conscious Black man. That is how I manifest in this plane of existence. And if I had to come back and do it again, I’d elect to be a Black man every time. The truth is that I am a spiritual being living a very human experience. I am the Universe seeking expression through the physical form, da’shon is. I am God, the Super Conscious Being. And so are you.
Corny, politically incorrect, or just silly-ass stuff!
Jokey-Jokes:
“I’ve got a blackbelt in keeping my pants up.”
"Why's it called 'dry-humping' if I always need a towel after?"
“The most I can show you is Love”.
“Never try and wake a sleepwalker”.
I got great responses to the open letter I wrote to my father in the last blog. One was a reminder that we should never try to wake a sleepwalker. Apparently it’s dangerous. I started to consider what this means in the context of helping people “wake up” to their lives. After all, this is a major part of why I’m here!
People have always told me I’m a good listener. Friends and fam have always come to me for advice or to just get things off their chests. And I don’t know what it is, but I have the ability to listen deeply and care genuinely, and often times help with my observations. When I was in my 20’s my ego lead me to start doling out unwanted advice. I realized that wasn’t the way to go.
“You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink”. Gospel. -It’s been a challenge to except my limitations when it comes to helping people. I see answers to questions that haven’t been asked. But to give these answers before they are sought can lead to strained relations. Trying to force someone to wake up before they are ready causes unnecessary drama in their growing process.
What I’ve learned is to simply fall back, and wait for my chance to be of service. If I can see a way to help without stepping on toes, then I do. Otherwise, my time is better spent minding my own business.
Points of interest…
Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum is an amazing artist who's work is now showing at Marica Wood Gallery in Castleberry Hill. Go see for yourself! marciawoodgallery.com
Kemit's doing it again on April 24th. Save the date!!!
Thank you’s and shout-outs…
THE GIFT: "Osho's Heaven?" -This is the first joint I did that contains samples. You'll never guess where it's from! Enjoy.
(TO DOWNLOAD, COPY AND PASTE)>>>
http://www.mediafire.com/file/xm2ymkghjd2/OSHOSHVN.mp3
BIG UP to Aden and Sara for the help out! Love yall : D
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