5 Times When I Can't Help But Be Myself

I cannot isolate one instance out of the millions of moments my true self has burst through the shell I inadvertently encase it in. My joy, rage, creativity, sorrow, and passion are sealed into an enclosure with no windows, circulation, or sunshine. I will refuse to diminish all the times the best parts of myself were able to escape captivity. So, here are 5 general times when I can’t help but be myself.

1. When Street Art Halts Me and We Converse for As Long as We Can

This is such a permanent and prominent strand of my DNA that all my family and friends are aware that if I am with them and we pass a mural, we have to stop until I can securely lock away a piece of the artwork. These images are not just files in my phone, they are how I log into my mind places I want to return to. They are stickers on bus seats, funny quotes spray painted on buildings, a vintage truck in the middle of city block, vibrant colors coming from piles of garbage, stamped messages on the ground that I would never see if I didn’t glance downward occasionally, strange stains that have become iridescent all by their lonesome, commissioned murals, beginner tags, weird messages on bathroom stalls, symmetry, and asymmetry alike. I could go on, clearly, but the art is only one part of the dynamic. What I label as art and my reaction to it is what makes me, me. It happens on solo walks and late night-outs. On days when fragments of my mind are dispelled into so multitudes of dimensions. This thing that I could have missed and by all reason should have missed catches my eye, gathers the stranded parts of myself and reunites them. I am revived and in my most vulnerable element. It is subtle, happens in an instant, and is still everlasting. My focus is shifted. My outlook is altered. I make a return to myself which makes me realize how long I had been away.

2. Talking About Music/ Movies/ Plays/ Books / T.V.

This is when I know I can be annoying. Indignant. Repetitive. What makes this time a full release of the truest part of myself is that I genuinely cannot stop. I am unable to reign in my passion. The only requirement for me being able to reach this level of ecstasy is that I must be completely spellbound by whatever movie, television show, director, actor, singer, playwright, rapper, or author I am speaking about. I almost feel bad for someone who brings up James Baldwin, Lean on Me, Rick and Morty, Etheridge Knight, Michaela Cole, Coloring Book, Spike Lee, Dreamgirls, Sons of Anarchy, Girlfriends, Tupac. There is palpable guilt sizzling through me that is making my hands shake as I type because there are an infinite number of people, films, and performances I didn’t name. The list is just too long for me to continue. I actually do feel bad for unexpecting bystanders such as dates, but family and friends have themselves to blame for even bringing up certain topics. Sure, my love for these mediums of art and artists tells a lot about me but what comes over me is what reveals a deeper layer of who I am. As I talk about the albums, television shows, etc. that I love, scenes and lyrics push my passion out of me. All the feelings I had internally and silently dissected for weeks, months, or years finally escape solitude. The endorphins that surge through my body amid the release of those feelings cause my heart to dance out of my chest. My speaking tone elevates. My body vibrates like a boombox at maximum volume level. I physically feel weak after the conversation ends because I exerted so much energy.

3. Watching the Knicks

I love basketball as a sport, but the Knicks are my heart. My team. My guys. I refuse to buy merchandise for any other team, no matter how fly the item looks. I have adoring nicknames for some opposing players and have classic NBA Playoff series replaying in my mind regularly. However, watching the Knicks unleashes the deepest loyalty I possess in relation to people I don’t know, of course. Everything is intensified. When I am silent you can barely hear me breathe. When I’m loud, the sounds that leap out of me change the acoustics in the room. Whether I am in the Garden, my living room, a bar, or on vacation the Knicks bring out a version of myself I never thought there would be. (The Garden is one of the most magical places on Earth, though.) I used to unable to sit through a basketball game. It had to be in ’07-’08 when I watched every Knicks game on the MSG network that season. They were underdogs with heart. What can I say I love a good narrative. Being a Knicks fan has added a layer to my personality. Dare I say, I curse more during a Knicks game than I do during any other activity. I have jumped on couches after a win and gotten a migraine after a loss. I don’t care what anyone thinks while I’m watching my team. I am bold and steadfast in my belief in us. Yes, I said “us”. There is no them. It is us; we are one.

4. At A Rap Battle

I have been a rap battle fan since I was in middle school. At that time, I didn’t think there was anything better than waiting for the YouTube SMACK URL releases of battles by rounds. I was making the “Jaz face” at bars before that was even a phrase. When you’re not watching a battle live you can pause when your response to a bar is interrupting your chance to hear the next bar. You can rewind the video when a scheme has imploded your brain cells. I was self-conscious about going to a battle in person. Would my mind be able to keep up with the word play of the battlers? Would I be too concerned with how ridiculous my facial expressions are as I am comprehending the bars? Would I be able to handle standing for so many hours with no personal space? Could I control myself if other fans booed the battler I’m a fan of? I have only been to 2 battles but I have never felt more apart of a community than those 2 nights. I feel like being at those battles heightened my intelligence. For the however many hours I was in there I was like Neo in the Matrix. It is like watching death defying mental acrobats and I was leaping with them. This isn’t a version of myself I get to experience often but I am going to get a new job so I can afford to go to more battles. The pain in my knees and ankles are more frequent and NOME 9 in Houston is partially to blame, but it doesn’t matter. I actually flew to Houston for one night to be a part of that event. I need to spend more time with that version of myself.

5. Experiencing Nostalgia

Number 1 to 4 were personal examples of “when I can’t help but be myself.” Number 5 is for all. There is nothing like a flashback. A reflection on a special moment from your youth is like sitting under The Giving Tree with your younger self. It gives a resurgence of all the good you may have forgotten. You are given freedom. Nostalgia relinquishes you from the stress of the present and the unknown of the impending future. It lets you go back, “if only for one night.”