 Philip Ahn as Master Kan in the TV series “Kung Fu.” (Photo source, Wikipedia) It was the cat’s decision, not ours. While doing my morning meditation downstairs, I heard Kristen let out a moan of despair. Right away, I thought someone had died, and my mind went to those relatives and friends who are sick and suffering. My mind went to those I thought would be hardest to lose. The felt the fear of it. Then, I settled back into meditation focus, looking to quiet myself, my mind, and all of what makes me. The cat had killed the partner of a yellow finch. That gasp of beauty was gone to satisfy the whims of a cat who does not lack for food, but cannot turn off an instinctual urge. For that she is now in the house, left to suffer the consequences of taking a life. I have been luckier and more blessed than the bird who lost her life this morning. Twenty-three years ago I was given a death sentence in the way of a diagnosis of congestive heart failure. I was living alone in an apartment in West Philly that I called The Treehouse. My third marriage had failed, but I had received tenure with distinction at Rutgers Camden, a trek I made on teaching days by taking the Patco train over the Ben Franklin bridge. In the summer after getting tenure, I could barely walk. In the months that followed, I made a decision to do everything I could to live, in essence, to take care of myself. My heart has recovered. I still have to be careful, but in the twenty-three years since my diagnosis, I have learned that health has many aspects, and one has to take care of all of them. One must pay attention. It’s mindfulness. In my previous post I shared the information about black women’s health. I want to share that podcast again. Click here to listen to “A Life or Death Crisis for Black Mothers. ” The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation has a collection of articles on this topic. Click here to read “Race, Racism, and Health/ Examining the connections between race, racism, and health in the United States.” What Acting Teaches MeIn taking care of myself, I decided to extend my experience in theater by studying acting.In studying the art with Dossy Peabody beginning in 2013, I came to spend a lot of time on August Wilson’s "Fences." Acting is not easy. It is hard, hard, hard. If you want to earn some real understanding of and respect for actors, just make yourself a serious student. As Dossy made clear to me, acting is not therapy, but the fact of it as a demanding art will require you to go at the business of taking care of yourself in newer ways. "Passing the Torch: Denzel Washington and Michael B. Jordan:" I was especially heartened to see this article about these two wonderful actors, one an established veteran with many accolades, including his film version of "Fences," and the other a youngster. It’s the sharing between two generations of black men that is heartening. There is a strength in the Denzel’s humility and generosity that inspires me. We have a hundred years of film in American culture now, and television is ubiquitous. It behooves anyone, I think, to understand acting. It can give you insights into how and why we all behave or, as my mama would say, how folk act. My Memoir, Oh My Memoir I am at it again. It’s my third attempt at a memoir, and I think I have the thread this time. It’s a thread with several threads, each of them complex in their own ways. I am having fun researching history and culture, especially the impact of Asian content, however stereotyped and commodified, into American culture via television, Asian content that eventually led me to Daoism and Taijiquan. The TV series Kung Fu had its problems for sure, but I immediately wanted to be one of the wise monks. Just skip life’s pain, thank you, and go straight to wisdom. Needless to say, it did not work that way. We come to our endings in many ways, but it’s how I travel along the way that makes all the difference to me. Kristen and I took that picture of the Hudson river from a hill on the Vanderbilt park, where that family had its mansions. There are goats behind it now. People walk with their dogs across the silent driveways where the cars of the rarified rich and privileged were driven by chauffeurs. Behind the building there is a herd of goats, protected by a fence. And the Hudson, the river Henry Hudson thought led to China or “Cathay.” Well, it takes me to China in my memories of having gotten there by airplane. Oh Henry, if only you could have seen what I have seen and can still see, standing here on the banks of the river that took you away.  The God Tree. In Closing, Sam Cornish
Sam Cornish, Boston’s first poet laureate and a friend, passed away. Please travel over to East Baltimore Muse and read my remembrance. Click here to read “The Poet in the Mirror.” Be well…. Afaa Tags: #KungFu, #Racism, #Health, #HudsonValley, #Acting, #DenzelWashington, #MichaelB. Jordan, #Well-being, #PlumFlowerTrilogy, #SamCornish, #EastBaltimore Copyright © 2018 Afaa M. Weaver (pertaining only to original text). All links and referenced materials are for educational purposes only. Comments are closed.
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