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LIFE IS NOT COMPLICATEDâ?"YOU ARE
Turning Your Biggest Disappointments into Your Greatest Blessings
By CARLOS WALLACE iUniverse LLC
Copyright © 2013 Carlos Wallace
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4917-1564-2
CHAPTER 1
The intensity of the game in progress inside the segregated gymnasium filled the air with so much heat that if you looked close enough you could see the steam rise from the highly polished hard wood floors. The gym had a pulse. And for the last hour the steady, rhythmic beat came from one source, and her vigorous efforts escalated with every shot. The star basketball player had been running her opponents into a dizzied state of confusion this last quarter. Her teammates laid the entire weight of this game squarely on her shoulders, a charge that only made her play harder, despite the searing pain ripping through her abdomen. Her body had been sending her alarming signals all night, but there was no way she was going to let something as simple as a cramp break her concentration. With every pivot, every foul, every three-point play-and there were quite a few-the pressure radiated through her back, causing her muscles to seize and relax in split second intervals. Spectators watched in disbelief as the countdown to the buzzer seemed to hang in the air as long as the last incredible shot weaving its way nimbly through the net. 20 points. And then, the pain in her stomach exploded as wildly as the cheering students now reacting with crazed frenzy in the bleachers. Whatever it was that wanted her attention more than this critical game challenged her focus much more than the defense that hovered like a menacing guard; sweaty, aggressive sentinels fighting to put an end to the embarrassing athleticism that threatened to rip victory from the team favored to win this game. 24 points.
She had grown accustomed to pushing through pain. Growing up in the discriminatory throes of the civil rights movement certainly prepared her for obstacles. Her biggest defense played out on the streets, in her school and right outside the safety of her home every day. She would have succumbed to the pressure long ago were it not for a strong father who protected his home and children by arming them with confidence, spiritual fortitude and rapier intellect, and her devoted mother. Instead, she endured the strain. She allowed it to feed her strength, satiate her resolute spirit and transform her into an unstoppable force to be reckoned with.
One could argue she had become immune to all hardship, for how else could she manage to play through what was slowly becoming a full-throttle assault on her game-worn body. Call it adrenaline, will power, divine intervention-or just plain stubborn resilience-but as the clock ticked off its final ten seconds, she managed one final burst of power that seemed to come from the depths of her womb. What had nearly crippled her with pain somehow coursed through her very being, awakening every cell in a way that even shocked her. As her heart pounded uncontrollably, she tapped into this yet unknown source of power, spun with tamed precision, eluded her flustered defense to drive a hard line down the center of the court, and with a subtle pause and an almost imperceptible aching smile, launched the winning shot.
And then, utter madness ensued. The crowd flooded the court waving banners and filling the air with gut bending cheers. There was of course the chorus of boos that wafted through the celebration, a sharp reminder that they (she) were not welcome. It was also the sound that snapped her out of her moment glory and confirmed that she had not imagined the grinding pain that now buckled her knees. The room spun out of control, and the sounds around her merged into a piercing cacophony of high-pitched screams and woeful moans. Her moans.
Hours later, she lay in the hospital, her head still pulsating from her sudden fall to the hardwood. She remembered, in flashes, the doctors asking her to breathe, and then push. Relax, then push. Take a deep breath and then one more big push. And moments later, she heard it: the unmistakable, persistent wail that would soon explain the source of her cutting pain, and the origin of the uninhibited strength that led her to victory and brought her the deepest joy. As the doctor placed her newborn son gently into her arms she knew his ceremonious, unrelenting entry into the world was a prologue; together they had just overcome one of the most excruciating and challenging experiences in their lives. This reality would, for 27 years, define the breadth and depth of their unbreakable bond. It would also shape the intriguing life of a man who learned to expect the unexpected, make the most of every circumstance and most importantly, that you cannot just live life; you must share insights acquired from the life you have lived.
I'm Carlos Wallace. This true story of my first day of life, my genesis, inspires me. From the beginning, my journey has not been easy, but it has been determined. The path I travelled was littered with personal landmines. It was also paved with victories. Fortunately, I was never alone on my journey and for that I am eternally grateful.
Understand, no one can make it through life without the help and kindness of others. Nor should they have to. You are not on a solitary trek into the unknown. Your path is pre-determined by God, and his angels are strategically placed along the way. I found mine. Let's find yours. Welcome to my world. Take what you need.
CHAPTER 2
I have lived my life thus far with few regrets. Adopting this mindset has not been easy, but I assure you it is possible and quite necessary if you want peace of mind. You will learn though, that this is a powerful state of being you will not reach overnight. It is a process, which begins with your willingness to release your hold on the past and believe that everything in life happens for a reason. Sure, this requires a leap of faith that many are not prepared -or inclined- to take for any number of reasons. Perhaps you do not identify with a so-called higher power. Perhaps you are pragmatic and unable to embrace beliefs you cannot verify. Or maybe you are not confident enough to recognize that you are not defined by your past or the people in it. Buddha teaches "Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future; concentrate the mind on the present moment." We spend so much time worried about what if that we lose sight of and fail to engage the more progressive attitude of what is. When we obsess about what if, it causes us to question who we are today, in the present. We harbor some unresolved notion that, had circumstances been different, we would be different; we would somehow, be better. And since there is nothing you can do to change the past you hang awkwardly in this insecure limbo of self-doubt. However, if you dissociate yourself from experiences that cannot be altered and focus on circumstances you can control, you will realize that you are very powerful. As arbiter of your life you can choose how you feel, how you react and what you want to achieve. You give your life direction and meaning. You give your life, purpose.
There is considerable freedom attached to knowing and accepting who you are. Fortunately, I never really had to struggle with my identity. My mother loved me from the moment I was conceived.
I know this because she told me, often. Not that she needed to reassure me, although it was wonderful to hear. From the time I could reasonably understand what it meant to be loved, her affection encouraged and empowered me. More importantly, she taught me to love myself. I became comfortable in my own skin. It is a trait I relish and for good reason. It arms me with exactly what I need to overcome the most daunting challenges in order to break from that what if mentality and engage what is.
I believe the power of embracing who you are is disturbingly underrated and that failing to do so is dangerously debilitating. Life is much less complicated when you no longer focus on how the criticism, opinions and self-loathing of others affect you. For instance, I take extreme pride in my appearance. Save a brief lapse in confidence about the age of eight (which I will expound on in a later chapter) I always have, even though I grew up in an age when, in my community, it was not popular to be dark skinned. Fairer skinned young men and women were more inclined to be asked out on dates, voted Homecoming King and Queen or cast for prime roles in school plays. I cycled through this period relatively unfazed. Now, by today's standards -and with the understanding that beauty is in the eye of the beholder -some may consider me attractive. This is partly because I meticulously maintain my appearance. Not to mention, these days we are more inclined to see darker skinned actors, actresses, models and even sports figures being recognized as handsome or beautiful. However, as a child and then a teenager growing up in the 1970s I was teased, overlooked and shunned because, in the words of some of my peers, I was "so black". The cruelty was not limited to bullies my age. Adults also wielded merciless pre-conceptions. I realize now that most of them were probably battling their own self-loathing. Still, if it weren't for my mother, who raised me to be a proud person, I would have been felled by the belittling perceptions of others. Eventually, my self-assurance became an extension of my ebony complexion. I understood that I was smart, intuitive, resourceful, reliable and full of integrity. I was all that wrapped in a dark, bold package. I wore my confidence like body armor. Still do.
I modeled my personality, mind-set and my essence after the blueprint of genuine acceptance that my loving mother helped draft. Truth is, the public will either love you, hate you or will be indifferent, plain and simple. You determine if they respect you. That is what matters. The rest is superficial. What others think about you should not frame your reality. Your experiences should not deter you. The earlier you tap into this understanding, the sooner you will begin living an uninhibited life. You will live a life of purpose. Confidence is a powerful incentive. It is also deliriously intoxicating. I never had to search far for the origin of this natural high because it was right in my backyard, literally.
My family history is rich with inspiration. Most generations can respectfully claim a prominent success story. My grandfather, the Honorable Judge O'Neal Hunt, the first African American justice to hold the position in Palestine, Texas is mine. Not a single day passes when I am not reminded of a lesson he taught me. And believe me, he was an extremely generous teacher. I remember one instance in particular.
If you browse through my pictures or happen to see me with a group of close friends and family, you will find I am always smiling and joking around. I smile and laugh as much as possible because it is healing. And because there was a period in my life when I did not smile much, if at all. In fact, I was one angry young man. I was particularly angry at what I believed the America I was raised in represented, especially racial inequality. I also felt that my level of intelligence betrayed me by opening my eyes to the aforementioned reality while those around me ignored the rampant injustice. As far as I was concerned, we had a ways to go with regard to the fragile state of race relations in America. These feelings were heightened upon my return from Desert Storm.
I do not look back on those years frequently. Once you have shed a layer of character that is so unflattering and burdensome, you leave it where it falls and pray it decomposes and disappears forever. When the sentiment was at its tipping point and I was about to lose myself in a miserable abyss of my own making, Granddaddy reached down and pulled me back from the brink, teaching me things about life and myself that I carry in my heart to this day.
My grandfather and I talked often. He was one of few people who could look into my eyes and know exactly what I was feeling. When Granddaddy addressed me it was always for a good reason. He was never one to allow emotion to cloud his judgment or to speak just for the sake of hearing his own voice. One evening, during one of my many visits, and when I was at my most discontent, I asked him how he, a jurist who lived through the injustice and degradation of the civil rights movement; who was made to feel like he was less than a man, less than a human being; who was judged, tried and socially convicted based solely on the color of his skin, was able to apportion unbiased justice to people who looked like the ones who made his life a living hell. I distinctly remember the situation that made me ask that pointed question.
Granddaddy was approached by a young man who found himself on the wrong side of a minor infraction that could have led to major complications in the future. My grandfather went out of his way to ensure that the man received a shot at a second chance, an opportunity some may argue he did not deserve. Suffice it to say, the guy was thrilled. And while the unexpected reprieve was a relief, I think the lesson in compassion my grandfather imparted would help him walk the straight and narrow from that point. I was impressed of course, but stumped. Granddaddy went above and beyond for a white man who by all accounts should have suffered the repercussions of his actions. And I wondered how he could act so selflessly in light of his experiences with the race that persecuted him. When I posed the question, he did not respond angrily or berate me for what could only be described as my haughty ignorance. He looked right at me and said, "Baby, it is not for me to judge him. He is judged by the law. A law I vowed to practice and respect as a Judge and an honorable man. If the law fails, a greater judgment awaits at the end of that man's life. Either way, it is out of my hands". I was speechless. And impressed.
I will not lie and say that his words changed my heart immediately. But over the years as I witnessed my grandfather practice what he preached and lead by example every moment of his life, I began to understand that I cannot allow bitterness and hate to dictate my decisions. I cannot treat others with disdain for acts they did not personally commit. Ultimately, I should not punish one man for another man's sins. This is, by far, one of the greatest, most profound lessons Granddaddy imparted. Dare I say, it saved my life. I shed my anger, slowly. And I worked hard every day to find reasons to appreciate my life and forgive those who I felt wronged me. Once I did that, I found (and kept) my smile.
To me, O'Neal Hunt was bigger than life, the true definition of a hero. Just saying his name, recalling his spirit, awakens a sense of awe inside me that burns white hot. Granddaddy was a man of God, a loyal husband and a devoted family man who possessed a wisdom that traced the narrow, perilous passages of a difficult, albeit fulfilling life. His actions never strayed from his philosophy. He could command attention without ever raising his voice; his mere presence spoke volumes. He earned respect by virtue of his disciplined work ethic, his integrity and his constant hunger for knowledge and enlightenment. Granddaddy stood as tall and unmovable as a mighty oak, yet possessed a sense of compassion that ran as fluidly and serenely as a crystal clear stream; indeed, his sense of clarity was one of the greatest gifts he left me.
Today, I want you to ask yourself, if you had to choose one person who inspires you, who would that person be? Who is your O'Neal Hunt? That person who, no matter what, fuels your desire to just be better, whether it is because they accomplished something great or because they choose to lead a righteous life? It could be a philanthropist or the mom next door who makes sure her children are always well behaved, clean, educated. Perhaps it is a pastor, rabbi or imam. My point is, identify someone in your daily life who inspires you. They are role models who prove you can accomplish anything you set your mind to despite your past. These people have a very valuable gift. Gifts much like my grandfather and my mom gave to me, including clarity and confidence. These are keys that unlocked my mind, freed me from doubt and insecurity and fueled my intense desire to embrace the present.
These are the gift of Purpose.
CHAPTER 3
I am proud to say that no matter where I am in life, in my heart I am and will always be just a regular ol' boy from East Texas. The city of Jacksonville, where I was born and raised, will always hold a special place in my heart. Some people choose to forget where they came from and I understand. People typically take good memories for granted. They also want to forget bad memories. However, the latter creates a complex paradox. Suppressing memory (which by definition is the mental capacity to retain facts, events or impressions) is contrary to normal cognitive function. You are fighting the power of the mind to remember things. This repression is a defense mechanism. It's also a temporary fix. Dr. Susan Kraus Whitbourne, author of the Essential Guide to Defense Mechanisms says, "Repression, like denial, can be temporarily beneficial, particularly if you've forgotten something bad that happened to you, but as with denial, if you don't come to grips with the experience it may come back to haunt you". Your foundation is important. Discounting its relevance is a sure way to lose your way later in life. Every part of one's upbringing plays a substantial role in the person you are. Exploring the deep recesses of your heritage can be enlightening. In some cases, it can save your life. According to the Centers for Disease Control, family members share their genes as well as their environment, lifestyles and habits. Your hair and eye color, athletic ability and quirky behavior are inherited traits. Risks for diseases such as asthma, diabetes, cancer, and heart disease also run in families. One thing is for sure; you will never understand anything you ignore. This includes your heritage.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from LIFE IS NOT COMPLICATEDâ?"YOU ARE by CARLOS WALLACE. Copyright © 2013 Carlos Wallace. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse LLC.
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