Life Is Not Complicated-You Are

The intensity of the game in progress inside the segregated gymnasium filled the air with so much heat, 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 rhythm of the beat came from one source; and her intensity continued to build with every shot. She had been running her opponents into a dizzied state of confusion this last quarter. Her teammates had all but laid the 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” breaks 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 a split second. Fans 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 through the net. 20 points. And 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 more than the defense that hovered like a menacing guard hoping 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 fighting through pain. Growing up in the discriminatory throes of the civil rights movement certainly prepared her for obstacles. Her biggest offense played out on the streets, in her school, right outside the safety of her home every day. Were it not for a strong father, who protected his home and children by arming them with confidence, spiritual fortitude and rapier intellect, and a fiercely devoted and equally accomplished mother, she would have succumbed to the pressure long ago. Instead, she endured it; 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 heart-stopping attack on her game-worn body. Call it adrenaline, will-power, Divine intervention, or just plain stubborn resilience, but as the clock shed the last 10 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 channeled through her very being, awakening every cell in a way that shocked even shocked her. As her heart pounded uncontrollably, she tapped into this yet unknown source of power, spun with a tamed precision, eluded her now 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, the madness. 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 here. 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’ve 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.