I looked out my hallway window and watched the sky turn bright rust. The thing inside of me, which I have come to understand as the Call to Aztlan, pulled me out of bed before the sun climbed into view: It was strong with the work I had done over the last few weeks. I needed to walk downstairs and play the guitar, or write, or play my sax; otherwise, I could miss the opportunity to allow cultivation of a sound or word. Maybe there’d be a melody I hadn’t played or a poem I hadn’t written born at the end of the call, or maybe it would be nothing more than a few sounds flowing from my guitar amplifier into the world. When I felt the call, the outcome wouldn’t matter; all that mattered as I moved forward through my own life was that I listened to the call and trusted that it would lead to the source of who I am. It would be my prayer for that particular calling.
I turned my attention from the dawn and watched my angel wife sleep. Her presence felt to me like a lake before the wind disturbs the water: still, calm, and peaceful. Through the reflection of her calm I could see that she loves me. In her peaceful state, she seems to say to me, “I’m safe. I trust you.” Though I risk waking her, I caress her cheek and slightly kiss her forehead. I love her, too.
There may not be much time these days, with so much for to learn and understand I want to get downstairs and let sounds flow free and wail and let Aztlan purge its needs that I don’t always understand or manage well before the day’s needs take over me and suppress and stop me from heeding its call. Instead though, I find myself walking into my son’s room to kiss him good morning. Each day I remember wrapping him in his baby blanket. He looked for the entire world to me like a little glowworm doll. Since then, I’ve called him, worm, and to me, he’ll always be that little baby wrapped in a blanket. His whole life awaits him: I know he, like me, will have a need to express that he may not always understand or manage well. I have so much to learn: How am I ever going to teach him?
Reflecting on my Cj and worm has swelled the call to Aztlan and I am about to explode with creative energy. Cj and my Worm are the soil from which all that’s good in my life is cultivated and I will spend a lifetime in thanks for their gifts.