Sunday Dinner: writing brings us home.

The conversation gets heated at the dinner table as one cousin asks us what a free Black writer looks like today. We are stunned by the question mainly because we are writing to set ourselves free...

The day carries a calm clarity like the smoke session after Sunday dinner. Food tastes better when you’re breaking bread, and the cannabis feels a little sweeter being rooted in community. A sweet like cornbread, warm thank you to each of you who takes the time to read and digest this series of soul food prepared for you. Our team is thriving, exceeding expectations, and aligning to the rhythms of their universe.

How are you healing? Are you writing? Are you painting? Are you creating? Not just for the archaic reward. Are you fulfilled? I hope you know that you are prayed for and that someone is rooting for you. I hope you pray for and root for yourself.

This year, I’ve shown up differently, fully present and fulfilled. I owe a lot of that to writing and reading what has been written. There is a truth in the written word, something unique. When we spill our feelings on a page, we create new worlds instantaneously. I’ve had my fair share of detours that taught me about focus, intention, and distractions. They taught me patience, the purpose of practice, and to trust the process.

Through the necessity of reflection, I recalled the power of pen in hand. A pen in my hand is magick. Working my pen allows me to manifest a road map, not unlike the Green Book, that tells me what paths are safe, where I can rest, and when it’s time to move.

Engagement nudge.

Name the most recent time your pen game changed your life/perspective.

I create myself in and out of existence. I disappear into the darkest parts of myself and emerge back on the paper. Something is grounding about the stroke of my utensil across the soft white page. I find deep satisfaction when I see a blank page filled with ink.

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Cornbread batter is never smooth; you will experience a lumpy emotional ride.

Similar to the healing experience, family, we can agree this ride is farthest from smooth. The moment that pen touches the paper, tears race from the eyes like the start of a marathon.

Writing timestamps the moment to save this memory, registering the emotion, and signaling to the mind, body, and soul that this feeling is to either suppress or explore. Second nature for many, the emotion will be suppressed; only a few will consciously choose the latter.

For the ones who make the choice, our lives turn into a storytime to inspire and teach the ones our words meet. Preserved wisdom lives on reaching past your reach when you share the discoveries.

Writing has many forms it depends on the intention of the words, the layered messages hidden between the lines, and the tone in delivery. As we hear or see the words arranged in a way, the story hits home, like grandma’s homemade cornbread, not Jiffy’s.

The words jump off the page and attack our heartstrings as the warm, thick cornbread eases its way down. Writing helps us explore the triggered emotions, analyze what they look like, and navigate how they feel until we are masters.

Whisking the cornbread batter until our arm is sore, those lumps stay until we dive deeper into our emotions. Mixing the ingredients until the written words bring it home, where we can remove the mask. Spend the time with ourselves to make it from the heart, to avoid skipping steps, and to make that cornbread the way it tastes back home.

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Cornbread is baked in the oven until brown, cracking us open to our core.

I awake free. Stretch my body freely. I breathe.

Freedom is the ability to define ourselves for ourselves while regaining the ability to imagine, believe, and be aligned with what is beyond our experiences with pain; a symptom of living. If you are alive, you are at risk of feeling it.

Can we first adjust spiritually and mentally, then physically - toward an equitable and harmonious world? Could we tune in with the parts of ourselves ready to surrender to this time of evolution, knowing evolution comes with growing pains? Our efforts to shift ourselves matter as our choice to manage our shifts.

When we write we manifest non-physical thought into physical reality. We create something that others can see, feel, and process. When we write we are alchemists. We change life. Born from ideas, experiences, perspectives, ego, Spirit, and energy our writing is art, history, and perspective for people to interpret.

Whoever bears witness to my creations, bear witness to my magic. A personal invitation into the kitchen to witness the process of cultivating the batter, the pivot in the environment once transferred into the hot oven to brown, and the opportunity to take home a sample of inspiration.

Be mindful of the stories you write and the narratives you perpetuate. Be intentional and aware of your perspective and how it influences your creativity. Be comfortable with it and embrace change as it comes. You are who you are and will be who you will be.

Create to remember what you know.

Create to know your vision.

Create to know thyself.

Create to purge.

Create to learn.

Create to teach.

Create with purpose.

Create with ease. 

Create when it gets difficult.

Create with my whole heart.

When you suffer a wound, I let the page see you bleed.

Writing is your magick.

Create to discover new worlds.

Create to become.

Create to be undone.

Create for you.

Create to express.

Create for fun.

Create to reflect.

Create to enjoy.

Create to create movement.

Creating is our magick— a place to curate new worlds and pivot old ones.  Whatever you do, do not stop writing/creating. This is one of the most beautiful ways life tells us the truth. In a world of illusions, we cannot afford confusion. So, write.

Work your magick and allow the world to bear witness.

We want to see and experience you.

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Cornbread proves the process outweighs the results.

Words written by Black people hold power in thy tongue felt within the depths of our souls. Our ancestors reincarnated through us in this body, that’s why the messages they left send chills down our spines.

“Writing words trying to elevate these children, that’s why I deserve it all. Pray for those who pray against me, every reason why my ancestors sent me.” These are words left from Kendrick Lamar’s pen in the song man at the garden, and they sing chills down my spine every time I hear them.

Power resigns in the arrangement of those words, the layered message, and the emotion expressed in the delivery. The process of gathering the words, rearranging them to find the best flow, and driving home the message is what we are all in love with. That sweet taste of a freshly baked skillet cornbread slice paired with the feeling of warmth traveling throughout your body.

We write to bring us back home to who we are, to set us free from the cultural conditions placed on us, and to preserve our culture for the generations to come after us.

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Black Writer’s Prayer

While you devour the scrumptious, slightly crumbly, and sweet cornbread, reflect on the power in your pen. How you are using it for yourself, your community, or the world.

I pray you know how much you matter.

I pray you know your feelings matter.

I pray you know your experience matters.

I pray you know your perspective matters.

I pray you understand you are enough, right now just as you are.

I pray you understand why you had to keep going as you reflect on your words.

I pray you never lose your pen, even if they try to silence your voice.

I pray you write your Black ass off until you set yourself free.

I pray we see you at Writer Circle to affirm this prayer together.

Amen.