Black Liquid Excerpt
By Naje Badu Love
Amidst the dense, humid chasm between heaven and sand, Rena, a middle-aged woman, tall and slender in frame, sits alone, at the end of a narrow pier, approximately half a mile from shore. Bemused by an obsessed bout of discernment, she traces invisible circles in the lingering mist with her neatly painted toes. In her lap lies a leather-bound journal, fanned open, with a pen resting aptly inside its crease. Contrary to the somber expression planted on her smooth-skinned face, the woman's physical appearance is quite alluring, exotic even. Genetics have worked favourably in keeping her 48 years undetectable. The glossy sheen radiating from the skin of her scantily dressed body makes it apparent that she has spent the better part of the day basking beneath the sweltering New Orleans sun. A tantalizing mocha coloured complexion accentuates the attractiveness of her closely shaved head, almond shaped eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones. From a distance, she could easily be mistaken for a Liberian super-model vacationing a world away from her Motherland. Aside from her age, also obscured upon first glance is the fact that she is a woman in deep turmoil, desperately struggling to make sense of the world around her. Far beneath her stunning exoskeleton is an aching soul.
Tacked to a rail just above Rena's shoulder is a sign that reads: No lifeguard on duty. Dive at your own risk. Hanging from a pillar on the opposite side of her is a loosely coiled rope. As she surveys the rope, the sign, and the ocean, she nods briefly, as if to affirm that her choice of location proved itself to be purposeful, if not perfect. A satisfied expression planted on her face offers a clear indication that the right space, the right setting, and the right time has been selected. Solitude eclipses the white shore, making the Cajun Riviera an impeccable locale to unload the burdensome weight of angst; an ideal spot to escape from the hustle and bustle of the city; the consummate setting for someone hoping to vanish off the face of the Mother Earth’s bosom without anyone noticing.
Just above, a pair of sea-gulls squabble hungrily while searching the waves for unsuspecting prey. The sticky air, now fertile with a salty aroma of seaweed and moss, swaddles her gently. As a gesture of appreciation, Rena leans back and lets the hushed rustle of palm leaves in the evening breeze caress her ears. The small upward arch of her lips is a sign that, hands down, the soundscape had succeeded in arousing an incomparable sensation of satiation. Beaches, for Rena, always seemed to reflect the truest possibility, and potential, of Heaven’s existence – both on Earth and the great beyond. In her eyes, there wasn’t a single backdrop in the world, or in the whole of life, that was more spiritually settling than the sound of the gulf. For a few moments, the balmy scenery is enough to pull her troubled soul from the grips of disillusionment. Even still, resignation fails in its ferocious attempt to distract Rena from observing the sun's blood-orange descent into a glassy horizon. She watches curiously as the sky’s cobalt blue tint fades slowly into a shade of lavender. Gratitude nudges her heart slightly, inciting her to atone her debt to life by relishing in the carefully selected environs one last time. Unfortunately, the sentiments of thanksgiving do not last as her heart is resigned to exploring alternate contingencies for deliverance and liberation. The cloud of desperation hovering over her troubled disposition wins its battle against peace and harmony. Finally, the exhaustion of rumination over her predicament impels her to inhale deeply, slowly.
Several moments pass before Rena breaks her trance. Rising into a seated position, she allows her thoughts to bubble to the point of inundation. It is then that she picks up her pen and begins to transcribe residual sentiments nesting at the threshold of her fragile ego and her inner-knowing. Overflowing with emotion, Rena fervently pours herself onto several of the last remaining blank pages of the weathered diary. Already, the book is filled to capacity with drawings and passages depicting every thought, insight, and prayer that has kept her glued together throughout the past few months. Arrested by the rip tide of her innermost secrets, her head bobs up and down softly in a felicitous bounce as she drains her well of despair. The rhythmic swaying of her slender body implies that she is mesmerized by the music streaming in her ears - a playlist compiled earlier that morning of songs by Beyonce, Mary J. Blige, Aretha Franklin, Toni Braxton, Erykah Badu, Gladys Knight, Nina Simone, Mariah Carey, and Phyllis Hyman.
The line-up encompasses a careful assemblage of women whose voices are perfect supplements to Rena's desire to lighten the weight of her unceasing sorrow. They are musical revolutionaries, geniuses who define soul music. They are queens and goddesses who invoked the courage and vulnerability that is vital to every Black woman's ability to not just survive, but to thrive. The appeals for respect, appreciation, and acceptance woven intricately throughout their songs have been known to inspire women who, like Rena, struggle to own themselves without apology, or to exercise strength in the midst of emotional suffering. The meticulous ensemble of melodies fit impeccably within the soundtrack of Rena's fluctuating reality. That morning, her goal was to compile a list of songs that generated a sense of camaraderie, a notion of fellowship; anything that would help her stay focused and empowered. She needed to hear something that promoted one’s right to choose; that offered reminders about the healing power of love. She needed lyrics and melodies that prompted the feeling of true freedom; sentiments that aided in overriding conditions of being perceived as unworthy of respect, loyalty, and celebration as a Black woman. Surmounting the dirty feelings of incessant objectification was a constant challenge for women. As an empath, racial and feminine injustices were the greatest pain points of Rena's life, and most certainly the deepest wounds of her entire being. Music was the balm chosen to soothe the gashes attained through the accumulation of adversities and afflictions. She’d purposely chosen these women to serenade her as she made one last, ostentatious walk of empowerment toward the ownership of her life - in her way, and in her time.
For several songs, Rena remains engaged in the task of passionately mouthing each of the verses pouring into her ears, all the while anchoring herself in the valour found between melody and lyric. Finally, with narrowed eyes, she lifts her head slightly to rest it in the palm of her hand. Somehow, huddling safely inside her personal Atlantis made it easier to deal with the tension burgeoning in the pit of her stomach. Settled deep inside her haven of contemplation, she continues to sway back and forth to a bleak and mournful tune that has forced her to reflect on the turbulence of her own life – the beautiful and the ill-favoured. Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she raises her left hand toward the sky to give praise and testament to the coinciding thoughts conveyed in both song and journal. Just as her emotions percolate into perfect alignment with the anthem, she bellows a lyric out toward the sea:
...Baby, won't you stay with me a little while?
(Baby, won't you stay?)
Baby, won't you stay with me a little while?
(Stay with me for a little while)
Baby, won't you stay with me a little while?
(All I wanna know is...)
Baby, won't you stay with me a little while?
(...can you stay?)
Won't you stay with me...)
(This is an excerpt from one of Naje’s upcoming book project titled, Risen: An Anthology.
STAY CONNECTED:
Naje Badu Love is the author of Let Go of Your But! A Woman’s Guide to Loving Herself to Full Potential and Possibility (purchase here). As an artist and illustrator, Naje founded Journal Up! (an organization designed to support people in their quest for true potential through journaling). to align her passion for writing, journaling and illustration as a means of connecting with and inspiring people around the globe. You are invited to reach out to her via Facebook and LinkedIn by following the social media details below:
Don’t forget to visit Journey-Up.com to learn more about our community objective, challenges, contests, and inspirational products.
Journey Up! Contact Information:
Phone | (323) 896 - 8000
Email | nagebadu@gmaill.com
Website | NajeLove.com
Website | Journey-Up.com
Journey Up! Social Media:
Naje Love on LinkedIn: @NajeLove
Naje Love on Facebook: @JourneyupInspiration
Naje Love on Instagram: @NajeBaduLove
©2022 3rd Quarter Publishing (subsidiaries of 3rd Quarter Studio)
