Didn't know "Song of Solomon" was a favorite of Obama's. A book that lifted and transformed my mind so completely, it saved me from suicide one day. And I've got tears on my face right now remembering a president who lived on the same planet as me and could comprehend it.
It was maybe more complicated than that. I was in despair, alone, broke and poor, sharing a flat with 5 ppl and sleeping in a platform I'd built above the w/d in the laundry room. Came to Ess Eff to live the truth and escape my twisted family, like so many other LGBT in 80s.
With $500 in cash and my shit in a car back seat. A guitar, of course. Which somehow through all the precipice-of-homeless upheaval, I managed not to sell and still have. But I ate more than a few bagels at the Haight drop-in center.
I'd done college and 1st year law school,dropped out due to hormonal emotional storm of coming-out destroying my ability to function in the world. Turned out, I had no role models for how to be a person. Much less a well-adjusted gay person, or employee, or friend.
Chalk that up to my FAMILY HISTORY. (we're talking Song of Solomon remember). Underwent series of what I called "rejections" and "failures," which contributed to the idea that I had some kind of invisible curse and would never be treated as a human being.
After a year, I was working in strip joints to pay rent. Was desperate for intimacy, friendship, and success but (unbeknownst to me) had a part of my self that would fly into action, and actively thrust those things away as soon as they came in sight.
I think I picked up Song of Solomon on the free table at the drop-in center. It was sort of a horror experience, reading it. It would pull me into its own story (I won't spoil), but also it kept pulling me into myself. I kept thrusting it away. It depressed me.
Got close to the end. Had flashbacks of childhood memories that would horrify most. Things I thought I had to permanently excise from me to remove "curse" that kept good things out of my life. But I could never escape it. While reading, I decided that suicide was the only answer.
I had thought suicide before, but this time was different. I emptied my pockets, wallet, keys, laid them on the kitchen table. No note. I'm cursed. Who would read it? Started my walk through Golden Gate Park toward the poor person's suicide hope, the Golden Gate Bridge.
Nothing would ever change. No matter what I did. I was weeping and ppl could see and I didn't care. I was ready. I was letting everything go. As I walked, I became empty. I had truly surrendered my life. None of the pain, none of the history mattered now. I was finished.
As my feet hit the concrete sidewalk of Fell St. I began to process what was coming in through my senses. I saw the world like a newborn baby. Having surrendered my life and all goals and wants, surrendered to my "curse," the very thing I'd run from, I let all the poison out.
I kept going. The bridge, my end, was the focus of my eyes. As I got closer, it seemed less necessary, and I almost couldn't recognize the person who'd had that thought. I felt like I was glowing and flying. Still weeping but a different way.
The moment I reversed my steps and headed home was my spiritual rebirth. I don't know how to explain what I felt that day. But Toni Morrison does. Had to bang on door for roomies to let me in, my keys/life had been cast off inside. Crawled to my loft. Finished Song of Solomon.
It was a whole different book than I thought it was. And so was my life.
Since then, I've had crises and suffering and highs and lows. Major law school, law review, big law firms, big relationship, death of big relationship, failed solo practice, setbacks of a large variety. Never again has suicide been a thought.
I am still carrying my bag of bones. But I can fly. And it was inside me, all along.
Every second of my life that I carried my curse, I carried also the angel who survived that curse.
Which is a long way of saying that Toni Morrison is amazing.
