It has been exactly one year since we were introduced to Covid-19. It was new and kind of scary, but not really hitting home yet. Then the world shut down. People were dying and there was nothing we could do about it.

As I sat in my room watching the light and shadows, the world was exploding around me. People were screaming in the streets, burning buildings, having social media battles. It was literally World War III and I was stuck in my very own crisis. I was bound in a selfcare debtors prison and the bill was high.

I now had unlimited time to unpack all my traumas.

There was unlimited time to think about my losses, failures, and soul wounds. There was unlimited time to sulk over what I made of my life, knowing that If I died the next day I would go regretting so much. I think we were all losing it and the loss sent society into fully intensified grieving. All of our old comforts died with 2020 and the world we knew was never coming back.

Fast forward to January, 2021. I had experienced several existential crises, people were still dying, rebels were still revolting. What now? I got an invitation to host an Open Mic for The Listening, Inc.

I said yes.

Of course I need to prepare spoken word, but nothing in my repertoire fit the theme. So, I sat at my chunky 1980’s teacher desk and sought to write the truth.

The theme was “Made For Now”, based on the popular Janet Jackson song. What do I write? I didn’t want to be deep or philosophical… everybody on Facebook was doing that for me.

I didn’t feel like blaming white people.

I surely didn’t want to talk about black trauma.

I wanted to write the truth as it came to me.

For the first time I confirmed that I was no longer sulking over everything that Covid and 2020 took from me. I let go of my assumed helplessness and claimed something new. The hours of frustration and tears brought me to a place of growth and I needed the world to know that they could do the same.

I performed the poem and it went well. Great! But what really hit me was Niya Levon’s music. For an entire 20 minutes she gave from the depths of herself and I was able to receive it. I wasn’t quite as numb as months before. I had just enough in me to give my full attention and support. That was something I missed in that lonely room. I missed the feeling of visibility and sense that I had something to offer. The event was a beautiful communion that lasted for 30 minutes and ended all too soon. The artists and guests logged off and I was reunited with my quiet room.

So, what now? Great story. Where do we go from here?

Well, the pandemic is not over and people are still dying. The world is still fighting four-hundred-year-old battles. All I can say is that we will need to continue our efforts for stability and healing. There will be relapses and more nights mourning the world we used to love. But in the midst of this metamorphosis, we must see the glimmers of light; the “right now” moments of growth and beauty that sit in front of us.

We may not be able to control what the world does to us, but we can control what we do to it. I would like to believe that I was made to remind you that all is not lost.

Did you miss the open mic? Don’t worry - here’s a recording of the Jan 2021 session, hosted by Joshua Carter, with a special performance by Signature Artist Niya Levon!

So, What Now? COVID, Loss & Poetry

Did you miss the open mic? Don’t worry - here’s a recording of the Jan 2021 session, hosted by Joshua Carter, with a special performance by Signature Artist Niya Levon!