michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no.81)


i keep wavering, because i keep hearing the voice of an angel…  no, i’m not speaking figuratively; i’m not referring to the pleasantries of the notes which exit from your vocal chords.  there are these moments, when i hear you, that i hear your advice ringing in my ears, as guided by the angels.  i’m sure it doesn’t hurt that your voice is one of the most beautiful i’ve heard.  still, if popular culture is of any measure; talent and the ability to deliver a message would be mutually exclusive.

again, i am listening to you, and i am sad.  because it always appears as if there’s a wave of events that determine this difficulty i have in reaching people with your message, your teachings.  i recognize that persistence is one of the key factors in your teachings, but you have to realize how hard this is.


there are certain words and phrases which scream out at me; words which exemplify the exact opposite of how i am feeling as a whole.  there’s a series of events which have occurred, where i feel like i want to disappear.  everything (of course) works in a series of contradictions:  i want to interact more with others, but i also want to just hide in my room from the world.  i love to be the one who bestows affection and touch to people; but i do not want to receive it.  i don’t want people to touch me.  i want to wear things that i like, but i don’t want people looking at me, and making comments about what i wear.  it upsets me that people say things.  i just want to make myself completely inconspicuous.  obviously this is difficult, being a black person in the northwest…  i just wish that people didn’t notice me so much.


so…  i wish there was this balance, where people would recognize me just as significantly, when i am speaking of you in terms of your role as a teacher.  here’s the other contradiction:  i know i’m not taking care of myself as well as i should, even though i want to go on and engage with the world of your role in relation to it.

i feel immobilized by…  myself.  in many ways, i do.  it’s like, if i could take myself out of what i wanna do (but it would still be me), i would be fine.  it’s not unlike my desire for children:  i really, REALLY want a baby, but i want to surpass the portion of the process where I give birth.  how can i move forward with anything if i want to disappear?


you are speaking to me in order for me to be serious about setting goals and to never stray from them.  at least this is what i hear at times, when i listen to you.

ultimately i am glad i never saw you live in concert (even though i suppose i had many an opportunity to).  i have a feeling my perspective of you would have been different, as i would not have gotten a chance to truly study the nuances, and the messages.

and i’m glad i never saw you passing in the street, or getting out of a car to shop somewhere…  i’m glad i never got caught up in the mass.  despite all this, i do wish i had an opportunity to just say two simple words to you:  thank you.  even if i had to yell it across the street to you, as i ran away from the crowds; even if i had to pass it off in a note…  as long as i know you got the message, and as long as i know you knew you were sincerely loved, then everything else would be alright.

love, jamilah


About jamilah

i think about a lot of things, and sometimes i write about them.
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