I feel like I’ve been dumbing myself down because I am afraid of my own power. How do I embrace it? How do I let go? I have always tried my best to hide from the spotlight while knowing full well that’s where I’m destined to be. And there are eXcuses that have helped me to reason with why I cannot or have not done all of the things that I know I am beyond capable of doing: My own timeline… Perfectionism… Work… Stress… That’s why I have three “unfinished” novels, countless writings (plays, songs, poems, etc.), and other ideas that have yet to even reach page. That’s why I haven’t done a poetry cd and don’t promote my book: I am afraid of supplying a demand that I am not sure I am prepared for. It’s also why I could never bring myself to slam. [For those of you unfamiliar with “slam”, simply put, it is a poetry competition where judges rate your performance/reading of your poetry based on their own definition of what “poetry” and “spoken word” should be. And you go up against other poets whose style, “skill level”, appearance, etc. may differ completely from yours. And there is no way of knowing what the judges will respond to and appreciate…]
Ironically enough, yesterday (a Thursday), I agreed to slam simply to fill an empty spot. I keep poems memorized, but I hadn’t practiced to compete. I wasn’t prepared for judgment on a 0 to 10 scale. But, with encouragement from my sistah Jerrica, I went up there and gave it my best.
I sit in front of this computer screen today, still trying to grasp that fact that, not only did I make it through to the second round, but I tied both rounds, perfect scores (by slam rules of dropping the lowest and highest score), with Jason O’Neil. I’d seen Jason on stage before and was always captured by what I consider a Broadway-theater presence. His voice and the animation of his movement are far different from the “B-more attitude” that I tap into on stage. And, yet, we were pitted against one another. At the end of the night, with a tie-breaker round, we both still came out with perfect scores, but, by a slight point-something advantage, I was announced the winner.
I relay this story to you because it was a night of firsts: my first time being openly judged by five strangers, going head-to-head with someone who I admire, and giving my all to my words, which Jerrica refers to as “the beast”. I felt the beast… and it scared me… and it frightens me more because I know that I walked on that stage last night with uncertainty just waiting to slip doubt into my mind. And when I called my mother this morning and told her what happened, she basically said to me that if I could do that with no preparation, imagine what I could do at The Grand Slam after four weeks of practice… Imagine what I could contribute and gain if I make the San Diego Slam Team… Imagine…
I know that all of this—the writing, the performing, the creativity, the personality, the magnetic spirit, etc.—comes from God. And it is because of this that I am terrified of not doing His blessings justice and at times use eXcuses to crutched myself for fear of fully tapping into His power which flows through me.
Or is that merely another eXcuse?
“You dream about your sheep and the Pyramids, but you’re different from me, because you want to realize your dreams. I just want to dream about Mecca. I’ve already imagined a thousand times crossing the desert, arriving at the Plaza of the Sacred Stone, the seven times I walk around it before allowing myself to touch it. I’ve already imagined the people who would be at my side, and those in front of me, and the conversations and prayers we would share. But I’m afraid that it would all be a disappointment, so I prefer just to dream about it.”
How much longer will He allow me to fight against Him before he strips me of my Talents? And how much more of an impact could I make upon the world if I actually… tried?
All that you see, all of my “accomplishments”, have been primarily the result of “hobby-time”. If I actually gave 100% to my dreams, how many doors would open? How many stages and audiences would receive me? How much more would God entrust in me?
I know myself better than anyone else will ever attempt to reach, so I know what gems He has hidden within me. But, this fear has been here since elementary school. It has affected my acting… and dancing… and drawing… It even causes me to do battle with the thing that has maintained my sanity and kept me alive: my poetry.
How do you end self-inflicted torture? Hush your own voice? Stop anxiety from trembling? How do you step up and accept your place as the queen that everyone has been calling you when the word “princess” falls so often and easily from your lips? How do you believe in yourself at least one-tenth of the way the entire universe has always believed in you?
I suppose, one day, you simply stop dreaming about Mecca and you start walking… You agree to put your name on a list and you give it your all… And, in the end, you realize that the spot was never empty. It was just waiting for you to fill it…
***Lyrically Speaking-XVIII
Written by: Ccep J. Dew, West Coast Editor
as published in eXcape the matriX magazine
www.eXcapethematriX.com
