Rebirth

I feel reborn. I’ve felt reborn for months, but it hit me today. I’m tired. But it’s just the lingering of Covid. I feel less tired every day.

But I walk like I did in my thirties again. I don’t wake up with pain. I can practically leap to my feet after meditation.

My hunger, this drive I had to create, is back. I’ve always worked, always created, but this is new. This is the energy of my twenties, with thirty years of wisdom and experience. This is me walking into any room, anywhere, and feeling calm and joyful.

I still have work on myself to do. I’m sometimes not graceful, sometimes being unkind as I draw boundaries, and I’m feeling old patterns surface. But those are gifts, chances for me to see it, own it, and change it.

I could be so graceful when I was young. But it was the grace of a people pleaser. I’m learning now how to be a graceful wizard. And connecting to the artists with drive and vision that are around me.

I love New York City. If my destiny is to leave it for the sake of my goals, so be it. But I will fight for my place here. This is my home, the place I searched for, the land I dreamed about when I was 11 years old, and wrote down in a notebook that I would live in Brooklyn. 19 years later it was like the universe conspired to make it happen.

My GMAT scores are accidentally sent to a school in the city, Metropolitan College of New York. They’re so good, they offer me a modest scholarship. I have to move in 3 weeks. I decide to go for it. I have a place in the Bronx. At the last minute, I lose it. And then it turns out a friend from Seattle had moved to Brooklyn. I end up in Brooklyn, just like I wanted when I was a kid. Subconscious intention. Synchronicity. Magic. You bet your ass I’m working to stay here.

Because I’m here to do many things, including to help kindle the hope of my friends and the communities I’m part of, to do simple things like make sure my elderly neighbors are drinking water when it’s hot and complex things like helping the people with love in their hearts take charge of this city.

Wizard stuff.

Light the beacons!

Related talks & stories

Fred speaking on this

Why he stopped celebrating his birthday, and what nearly thirty years of strange, sudden loss taught him about staying alive.

A childhood nighttime visitor, a phrase he didn’t understand until years later, and a piece of his family’s history he didn’t know he was carrying.

Personal storytelling in community organizing contexts, using Guide to Creating a Brave Space.

Everyone’s story has value — the smaller, gentler stories of our own lives, no less than the great stories of survival.

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