The Countdown Continues

I have a cold that just won’t let up, but I’m grateful that it’s happening now.  I’d hate to get sick right before my trip.

My school is year-round, and we began a new session last week.  I told my students “Listen, all we have to do is get to April 14.  Because April 15, ima be on that plane, heard?”  Several of them were excited for me, and one wanted to know how much it cost me.  I was hesitant to tell him because I didn’t want it to seem like I was bragging.  But I thought about it, and I felt he needed to know so he could make his own plans some day!

I told him flights to London were expensive, and I wasn’t eager to pay that much, but I really wanted to go.  I then explained that it was much cheaper to stay in an Airbnb than a hotel, and some people his age might opt to stay in a hostel.

After I explained the cost, he definitely felt it might be attainable for him.  If not London, then maybe someplace closer.

Anyway…

A few things happened to me a few weeks ago that led to a shift in my writing priorities.  First, I began reading Eric Braeden’s book I’ll Be Damned.  Second, I saw the Maya Angelou edition of American Masters.  I was deeply moved by the later, and it became crystal clear to me that Maya’s life was changed by the writing of her life.

I’ve never been an elegant writer, at least it doesn’t feel like it on my end. So I’m not saying that I can write something that will ever get a Pulitzer or Nobel Prize.  But I think I finally realized that there is meaning in my life thus far.  I used to think I could never write my autobiography because I wasn’t old enough or that it wasn’t interesting enough or that I wouldn’t be able to be objective or introspective enough.

Then I realized that perhaps the reason I couldn’t move forward in writing about my vampire gang or about Adrian Collins was because I hadn’t yet paused to take stock of my own life yet.

And truly, it’s the perfect time to do so.  I am teaching students who are old enough to be my grown children.  Had I had a child at 19, that child would be 18 by now.  Hell, I could be a grandfather!  So in seeing these students navigate their own lives, I feel somewhat fulfilled, even satisfied, that this is the time to investigate what has been and what could have been, so that my next level of being is even better than the first.  It was a transformative experience for Maya Angelou and I am hoping for the same thing for me.

Mind you, I am not trying to be the grandfather of any movements.  I am just trying to be a writer and a teacher.