After The Tower…
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
— HARUKI MURAKAMI
I’ve officially been a New Yorker for five months. My warm welcome to the city consisted of tears, trauma, and a fuck ton of fancy bubbly. I spent my first three months here hating every day and traveling back to Atlanta as much as it was safely possible during a global health pandemic. Last month, something changed.
I was sitting in Hartsfield-Jackson, waiting to board my flight back to New York City. While waiting, a stranger decided to strike up a socially distanced conversation with me. He asked me what I did for a living, and I explained to him that I was an artist, kind of. Naturally, this was the set up for many follow up questions. I ended up being very transparent with this stranger. I explained that my trajectory had changed entirely, and I hadn’t been able to paint in what felt like forever. I word vomited about how I’d never wanted to live in New York but was forced to leave my dream loft and art studio due to being a victim of domestic violence and aggravated stalking. This stranger, an artist of color himself, was incredibly empathetic. But also told me literally — to get my head out of my ass and paint. And to help me do so? He hired me for two four figure commissions. Life-changing. We had a very long conversation about mindset and the concept of not letting life and painful circumstances halt your art. He had very fresh takes on leaving comfort and stability to embrace chaos and the unknown. Was the conversation a bit corny? Absolutely. He had a very “everything happens for a reason” scope of life. Was the conversation necessary? Absolutely. In fact, it rocked my world a bit.
Instead of looking at things through the lens of the battered woman displaced into a big, intimidating city in June, I’m beginning to see through the lens of a woman who survived The Dark Night of The Soul. Instead of falling from The Tower and landing bruised at rock bottom, I landed in a cuddle pile full of love, endless support, and in a whole new world that embraced me rather than “othering” me. There has been nothing more freeing than being around people that I can be my most authentic self with and finally just relaxing. I have a community like never before.
So this is where I am. My cross streets are freedom and resilience. There are no choices to be made right now. Legba, my ancestral team, and I are simply chillin’. I’m not late to the crossroads; I’m on time. They’ve been waiting. After The Tower comes The Star. The Fool’s journey is infinite.
