I am sitting in a small study room that I have reserved in the library...
It is equipped with a top-of the line computer, a flat-screen television, and a projector.
I watch a video, called "Tough Guise" in which Dr. Katz discusses how societal gender-roles portrayed in the media has influenced men to become woman beaters, killers, rapist, etc. The truth of this is deep and dark. The images and words burn the wells of my eyes...yet I am determined to be a man and not cry. The irony of all this is too difficult for my mind at the moment.
I go downstairs buy a cup of Moroccan Mint Green Tea...I add two splenda, and milk...stir...sip....stir....sip. I rub my eyes. Check my hands for escaped tears...I place a plastic lid on my paper cup and go back to the study room.
A moment like this calls for another tortured genius to engage in this dialog with me...who shall it be...Miles, Byrd, Hendrix, Chet, Billie, Nina.....Oh yeah that's easy...Miles....the man who could beat blue notes in to submission until they became symphonies of profoundly perfected beauty....but beneath it just another boy, like all of us men, who beat women black and blue for his a-MUSE-ment.
His horn fills the room...His horror fills my head...the tea warms my mouth....but does nothing for my drafty soul....
I look around and I smile...what if my everyday was like this...me in some corner office delving deep into the mind of this world....simultaneously doing battle with my own...all in the name of Love, Good, Peace, Liberation...Uhuru....The path of the intellectual warrior....I smile...realizing centuries ago Muhammad saw an image of me at this moment and it was that image that inspired him to write the words...."The ink of one scholar is more holy than the blood of a thousand martyrs." I smile...realizing...I am "here" in the sanctuary of my mind....and it is a sacred, blessed place....
I take another sip...and my thoughts change....soon my everyday will be like this....just keep moving....its all within reach....
Miles hits a Csharp with such clarity...that I am sure Gabriel has dropped his horn and hung his head in shame....because no angel....is capable of bringing together the beauty and the beast within.....in order that the world may sound good....
Yeah...this is where I belong...this is who I am...I am "here" now....and I will be "here" tomorrow....closer to my dream everyday, yet living my dream in every moment.....
I take another sip.....
The ice on the surface of my soul begins to break......
My eyes finally let go of the gender-role they have been programed to play.....
My face begins to feel the cool drops of my own heavenly rain......
The only thing missing is scented Virgina Tobacco, and my pipe.....
And a wooden rocking chair....
so that I may watch my beautiful life unfold like a flower before me....
in perfect peace...
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