Chapter 1: The Challenge of the Present

Recently, I've been increasingly aware of how I perceive the present in relation to the past and future. Instead of merely experiencing the moment, I often find myself contemplating how "now" will appear in hindsight. It's easy to claim that I'm living in the present, but truly experiencing it is another matter entirely.

To truly embrace the present, I've discovered various methods. This includes cherishing time spent with loved ones, engaging in my passions, and practicing gratitude for life itself—an extraordinary gift. I've come to realize that my appreciation for this process is amplified through writing.

Writing, for its own sake, has become a vital routine for me, regardless of how much I share publicly. Behind every polished piece, countless drafts and days of effort have contributed to that final version. As a writer, I've learned that I must cherish the act of writing itself, perhaps even more than the finished product.

Writing has provided me with clarity during tumultuous times. In certain literary circles, we often discuss the concept of "sh***y first drafts." Reflecting on my life outside of writing, those messy beginnings have frequently brought me immense joy.

I feel privileged to engage in this creative journey. Today, I want to share a significant poem by the late Charles Gilbert, titled "Turning into Dwelling." I discovered this poet and this particular piece during a challenging transition in my life, and it has remained with me ever since. The poem anchors me in the present, no matter how it unfolds. Below are the opening and closing stanzas of this impactful work:

Turning Into Dwelling

Christopher Gilbert

Lord, am I ready? The crickets' sonic party clicks

deep in the grass outside in the same tired dying tick

meting out a statistic that does not jump the awful gap

of now. The edge of the window is a groove

that the wind quivers through, making a music —

each note death or a map of destiny.

the midnight is a limit past which I must reach. Invite me

to be part of it. I will not wake and not sleep

unless I can be the language that is this time, words

which risk enough to read and sing to let me come to be

the unmapped footsteps of this summer night come down.

Now the weariness of race, not the transcendental tears,

now the Black man's blues and booze and reeling with a fate

so hard you're best to sometimes shuck it,

now the thrown-up hands and the laugh about everything,

and the flight from it all with a faith that takes on nothing —

Hellhound on my behind, catch me further on down the line.

Statistical bullets in the air, hide my soul away in prayer.

Lord, the anguish of my Black block rises up in me

like a grief. My only chance to go beyond being breached —

to resist being quelled as a bit of inner-city entropy —

is to speak up for the public which has birthed me.

To build this language house. To make this case. Create.

This loving which lives outside time. Lord, this is time.

Thank you for your time. If you found this reflection engaging, I encourage you to explore the following video:

This official lyric video for Plumb's "Lord I'm Ready Now" captures the essence of seeking clarity and readiness in the face of life's challenges.

Chapter 2: The Power of Live Performance

In addition to written poetry, live expressions can bring words to life in extraordinary ways. The following video features Plumb performing "Lord I'm Ready Now" live at K-LOVE. This powerful rendition emphasizes the themes of readiness and introspection through performance.

This live performance showcases the emotional depth and urgency of the song, further illustrating the connection between creativity and personal experience.