Field Notes From An Epic Slow Down
Waking in your arms I’m back beside the ocean On warm sand Watching the waves crash Contented as I join the day My thoughts are at low tide Noticing only the way your touch glitters across my skin Like the sun kissing the water’s edge You ask me
I spend a lot of energy wishing things were different than they are. More specifically, wishing things were without imperfection. I wake up every day hoping that this one will be filled to the brim with connection, creativity, serenity, play, satisfaction. Perfectly lit blooms in buttery sunlight casting soft shadows.
I woke at 5:30 this morning to drive Hakeem to the airport. Came home and climbed back into my still warm bed. Fed the cats. Fed Moses. Took him to school. Now I have a day wide open. I protected this time on purpose, having felt the frenetic energy
I wrote this for my dear friend Kwasi, who in 2021, the midst of my madness, mailed me a weighted blanket. He sent me a book about belonging before I ever recognized it was a wound I carried. He called multiple times just to check in and helped me remember
I've spent half a decade moving at full speed to do near impossible things. Most of those ambitions have made it earth side. I've created value, served movements, broken through barriers, and contributed to life-changing experiences for hundreds of people. I've released two