week ten: on promises

My mom is hundreds of miles away right now. She’s attending a conference that brings the Ugandan diaspora together to discuss the community, progress being made, etc. I wanted to go too, but I am already so tired; I can’t imagine how exhausted I’d be traveling right before school begins.

A few days before I flew to Boston, I was cooking dinner. It needed time to bake, so I invited her to sit on the porch with me, my phone playing bossa nova and classical quietly into the night.

In moments like these, I always ask for advice.

Today the question was, “How did you figure out what to prioritize? How did you decide what mattered to you more than anything else?”

In moments like these, she always makes it about god.

Today she described how she followed her passions as a tailor, and how god led her through them to a longer term passion: being a pastor. Regardless, she followed her heart and her gut every step of the way.

She then asked why I was asking, so I explained.

I know I’m young. It feels kind of taboo to say out loud, because even though I’m doing things as a rising second-year many students don’t do till their graduating year, the idea that my experiences could be used to downplay others is something that really scares me. That said, I feel like this is the last year I have to do anything that anyone would give a fuck about because I’m doing it young. Is it irrational, and likely the result of capitalistic, hustle culture conditioning? Yes. Does it motivate me to work at 2x speed, trying for short-term excellence? Yeah.

She asked why I care what others think. A pretty simple sentiment, but the way she said it made me pause.

I had been describing the people I want to receive approval from as a vague “them”, so she did to. But when I heard it from her, I thought of Them.

The person I live to impress, literally.

This is going to be a long reflection. Just… let me cook.

Last night I had to talk myself down again. This time I felt like I fell short in a social situation, and I wished I was someone else entirely, someone who could do anything other than stutter and smile when under pressure. Compliments and reassurances weren’t working, so They tried something else.

There was someone there, who I admired a lot. So They asked:

“What do I like about them?”

That worked pretty well — it got me on a new thought process, grounding me on something that wasn’t so messy or complicated. Then:

“Why do you think they like you?”

This wasn’t met as well initially, but it didn’t take long to get over the hurdle of if this person liked me at all. We were very similar, and soon I was acknowledging the qualities and values we share. The love I felt for this person began to leak into love for myself.

I still don’t know the answer to that question I asked — “What’s the connection between community, art, and hope?”

All the puzzle pieces are there. I can feel a story building up to a climax, but it hasn’t been entirely written yet.

I wanted to end this story with a reflection on hope or on courage. I’m looking for a bow to tie everything together, a happy ending after so much drama.

But it just hasn’t been written yet.

As intense as these ten weeks felt, this really is only the beginning of on courage. This section of the story just ends on a cliffhanger, and maybe that’s enough.

I have to let it be enough.

I made a promise to myself, early on.

“Regardless of what the end product looks like, as long as I give it my all, I’ll be proud of myself.”

Even back then, I knew it was risky. I can’t force my feelings to bend to fit the storybook ending I want. Frankly? I’m not proud of myself. I rarely am. There’s always more to do, more I could’ve done, more to be, more I should’ve been. There’s always something brighter at the horizon, always a larger star to swallow.

But you know something I learned the other day? The universe is so, so expansive. You can always keep zooming out, but did you know that the universe is just as expansive when you zoom in? There’s always something smaller than small, all the way down to the singularity. Are the electrons not just as incredible as the galaxies they make up?

I don’t think I’ll ever be big enough. I don’t think I’ll ever reach the abstract stars that They are waiting for me to reach. But maybe I was born on Earth for a reason. If I resided among the stars, how could I speak on the moon? Let the stars speak for themselves, as I will myself.

I am making a new promise.

I will keep going. I will keep jumping and running and tripping and falling, and I will keep going. This is my story to tell, and it’s not done yet, so I’ll keep on going until it is. But this time, I want to try doing it for me. Not for them or for Them or for her or for Her or for any damn person else, abstract or otherwise.

I still have so much left to learn and to do. I have a vision that hasn’t been fully realized yet.

So I will keep going.

I hope you’ll continue on this journey with me. It’s gonna be quite a ride.

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SM