What If I don’t Wake Up? Signed: a Black Man
This past weekend I had to face down that question and grapple with the possibilities. What if I don’t wake up in the morning? Before I introduce you to the consequential result of this introspective inquiry. Allow me to provide a little context.
As a general rule, I don’t share my personal life, the intimate details of my existence on social media or the internet in general. While those things that would be considered public are not shunned, I keep those things that should remain private, private! You will never see me post photos of my minor children, because they never signed up to be a public part of my life, I did. The photos of my older children are of those who are old enough to make a conscious decision to openly be exposed to me and what I do. They have purposely placed themselves in my public life, and I enjoy having them there.
However, I am going to share something very intimate with you this morning. I am going to invite you into the most personal and intimate part of my life, my thoughts! This is not so much about me any longer, but I am hoping that it reaches someone, anyone.
I work hard at what I do, putting in long hours, and carrying an exceptional amount of stress as I face multitudinous obstacles and challenges. I have been warned to slow down and rest, but what I see in front of me is too important for me to sit down on it now. My people are too close to experiencing a breakthrough in thought. They are too close to discovering who they really are. There are too close to shedding the hatred — too close to embracing their blackness in all its splendor and unadulterated beauty.
Anyway, I was sitting in front of my computer on this past Friday, and someone requested a specific pricing matrix for some of the services I offer, I told them that I was on my way home, and I would get it to them shortly. I Never Made It Home.
I had been feeling bad for a few days, actually, more than a week, but I was pushing through, after all, there is so much on the table, including a major event coming up this coming Saturday in Houston, TX. Well, on Friday, I started feeling worse, and so I ended up going to the Hospital emergency room in North Houston. Those who know me are aware of the fact that I don’t do hospitals, so this should be an indicator of just how concerned about my health. The crazy thing about this was that I was not in fear of dying, I left fear behind a long time ago. Fear lost its grip over me a long time ago. There is something about living in purpose that helps to resolve the possibility of having to lay down your life. It was not the fear of dying that consumed me in this moment. I was the concern of leaving behind those whom I love the most. It was the concern about my minor children and the struggles associated with attempting to adjust to now having a father present. It was the concern about the children who I fight for every day. What concerned me was leaving my work behind, but most importantly, I didn’t want to leave my minor children behind without a father.
When I arrived at the hospital, my triage nurse clocked my blood pressures at 288/189. Yes, you are reading this right. The crazy thing is that this is not the worse that it has been. The diastolic pressure, the bottom or second number has actually been as high as 225. For those of you who are not familiar with hypertension, by all counts, I should be dead or a stroked out vegetable. At the very least, my kidneys should have suffered renal failure, and my eyesight should be totally destroyed,yet here I am.
Well, after four days in ICU and undergoing every test imaginable, which explains my inactivity since Friday afternoon, They were not able to determine the origin of the hypertension, nor why it is so extreme. If fact, the cardiologist told me that I am somewhat of a medical miracle. He said that somehow, my blood pressure exceeded the catastrophic threshold and my body was able to completely adapt to it in a manner that had guarded my major organs significantly, without incurring any permanent damage, much to the awe of the medical staff. The only physiological symptom was the enlarged heart, which was the is the result of having to pump so hard because of the narrowed arteries. There was some fluid around the heart and some backed up into the lungs, but as soon as the treatment started, it subsided, and most of the discomfort subsided with it.
While I lay there in that room for four days, I had plenty of time to think. I was able to evaluate where I am, and what I believe I should be doing. The first thing that I determined was that if I am still breathing, I have to be here for a reason. I learned that I am built for this. I also learned that I have got to work with others, and trust others to be as passionate about the elevation and empowerment of blacks as I am. Fortunately, I have begun the process of training some young men, and pouring into some others who will be receiving the torch as I take on another role in the near future.
So, I said all of that to say, we have to do a better job of standing and working together. It is time for us to put aside our egos for the sake of effectively and collectively leading our people out of their oppressive state. While I am more than confident in the work I do in my area of expertise as a social strategist, I am wise enough to understand that I don’t know it all, and I cannot possibly accomplish what needs to be accomplished on my own, but I believe my people are on the cusp of something extraordinary. I believe we have arrived at the edge of a social, economic, filial and political breakthrough. I believe that we have reached the point of self-discovery and no matter how much others may try, the truth of our greatness can no longer be concealed.
When I first arrived at the hospital, I kept asking myself, “If I were to die today, would anyone notice? Would my work be missed? Would anyone take up the torch? There were other similar questions flowing through my mind, and honestly, I never resolved those questions. But, what I did resolve was the fact that my vision is clear, my mission is certain, and my destiny set. I am living to honor my design, to fill my space and to live in my purpose — leaving nothing on the battlefield. The answer to those questions are irrelevant, because they don’t affect what I do from here. Whether there are a million people who hang on my every word or if only those in my direct periphery believe in me, I am going to wake up each and every day and put in “work” based on my passion and love for my people.
Even though those same people are sometimes the source of my greatest pain, purpose does acknowledge opposition as a reason for failure. Today marks the first day since this ordeal began that I have sat in front of my computer with the purpose of putting in work. This ordeal marked the first time that I had not, at least, worked some part of a day in years.
Why am I sharing this with you? My grandfather once told me, “Son, you only have so much time on this earth to make your presence felt, and trust me, you are here to make your presence felt. Don’t spend your time attempting to earn the approbation of others, nor spend your time serving your own selfish agenda. You have a purpose son. Your design is reflective of that purpose, now, your number one responsibility is to live up to the potential of your design. You have to fill your space, meaning that whenever you walk into a room, always leave more than you take.” I am living at the level of my design; I am filling my space, and now I am challenging you to step up and do the same. There is work to be done, and our people need us. ~ Dr. Rick Wallace, Ph.D.