Possessions
/pəˈzeSHəns/
The aches of the past.
A thirst for peace.
You could have everything.
But when there is a collision–a divine entanglement of the two–you will see that you are merely nothing. Life is more than the fulfillment of worldly possessions, more than just the gratification of temporarily quenching your thirst with accolades and approval. You could have everything.
But who are you?
Who lives within the rooms of your bones? Who resides in the corners that never see the light of day? The person that comes out unaccompanied during the late nights when the world is asleep and there you are.
Wallowing in puddles of your own tears, doing laps backwards and in butterfly strokes around that motherfucker. Drowning.
Who are you? You could have everything.
In the dark, you feel most alive, but you cannot thrive in sunless areas of your soul. You cannot produce in the dark. Nothing grows in gloom.
You could have everything.
You could be the recipient of an award for your words; have your employer be the woman you idolized–a public figure for Black girls looking for a break when they’ve hit bottom; be amongst a community of Black women who, like you, are driven by personal narratives that are often silenced in spaces occupied by notable white women who focus on Outfit of the Day posts like that belong on an ad for a store that does not cater to curvy girls like you.
You could have everything.
You feel like you have almost everything.
You have a partner who has simultaneously been the source of the pain you penned and the person who knows the intricate details of your life. Your skin. Your trepidation.
Maybe, he knows you better. Maybe, you relinquished that much power for someone to understand your why’s and how’s more than you ever could because you have ran for so long. The lies you have interpreted as truth are entombed within the bowels of your belly and you cannot fathom facing anything else head on.
You are the head of the household of a family who brings you the most pleasure in life, although you are still trying to decipher those terms to align with the hopes you have, personally.
Family and pleasure. What does that mean?
You could have these things and still feel like something is missing. Still feel like you are just an empty vessel because you simply do not know where you came from.
I booked a trip to Puerto Rico–my father’s birth place per his death certificate–to find the answers to those questions, responses that mirror that of Zora Neale Hurston’s words, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” I understood success to mean a few things in recent years by way of the Universe blessing me after taking the leap to invest in myself, but subsequently, amassed a different level of what personal feats are during my unexpected five month hiatus from this platform.
This new series (and official return), titled “Possessions,” will unearth the discoveries of who I am, truly and wholly, as I live out the last year of my twenties. It will delve into me asking myself what is it that I am in charge of in my life? What worldly possessions have taken control and seized me? What is holding occupancy in my spirit without my permission and what can I take ownership of? What are some intangibles that I must acquire in hopes of tapping into my fullest potential?
The words will either serve as extensions of what you may have read on my personal Instagram account (you can play catch up here), or be constructed from my experiences at a place that felt both familiar and foreign, for the first time.
As bloggers, writers, and creatives, we put an exceptional amount of focus on our content, and rightfully so, as we all aim to leave our imprints lingering in an air long after we’re gone, but what lives are we creating outside of our spaces? Everyone if offering how-to guides on how to monetize your blog but what good are those tips if your life is void of the essentials needed to be better? Who can teach you how to be a better woman? Better mother? Better lover? Human? What words can someone offer you that will support you on your quest to discovering the interpretations of hope, love, forgiveness, renewal, awareness?
You have to live some life. You have to do it alone, most times.
You will see the words, legacy and longing, impact and influence, transitioning and transforming, planted a lot in forthcoming posts. It will be broken into seven parts over seven weeks to reflect my thought process on each day of my trip:
The Arrival
The Path Towards Healing
The Exposure
The Town
The Vow
The Removal of Chains & the Result of Change
The Departure
I was a mother who felt confined behind her own walls labeled Childhood. I emerged a wild woman with a vengeance on this vacation.
“There is a crack in everything.
That is how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen
