I'm After a Feeling

My affinity for stillness

I’m after a feeling.

I’m after the feeling:

I have when I’m floating on top of the sea

when I start to kick, go faster, on a really good run & I can’t tell if I’m on the ground still or flying amongst the trees

when I read my writing out loud & affirm that my words set the trail on fire leading me towards maroon-filled swampland. The smoke/my cover as I return wild.

when I trust my gut without oscillating between choices

when I rise knowing the day & evening are long & both make what we call day

when I find a clearing of respite & relief

when the room feels like seventh heaven cause the fan is gently turning & my heart feels light

of rolling my shoulders & arms when I listen to the composed music of Alvin Ailey’s Revelations

of approaching a blank page knowing it is mine to do with what I see fit

of complete & utter choice

Sula had when she declared “I don’t want to make somebody else. I want to make myself¹.”

Mattie had when she knew “that beauty was not a luxury, but like food and water, a requirement for living” (Hartman 2019, 60)²

John Coltrane had when he recorded A Love Supreme

I’m after that feeling.

Knowing what that feeling is & being able to define what it doesn’t feel like is helpful information to gather. These wild seeds are important to gather because it makes saying no that much easier.

So I sit in stillness for however long it takes for the vision to become clear. When most people are scrambling, grasping for any opportunity to say they have accomplished something I am still. Note, that I have not used the word silent yet. Sometimes my stillness is wrapped in silence & it makes time much more pleasurable. Other times, my stillness is enveloped in jazz, playlist making, podcast listening, movie watching, & talks with dear community members.

When I speak of stillness, I speak of sitting with my refusal to trade having that feeling within me for having looked like I have achieved something of worth. I’m interested in having it be within me not on me. Practicing stillness is rooting when everybody is telling you to chase a goal that no longer aligns with what you want to grow. By rooting where we are, we allow ourselves to ride the tides of life & sail out when the condition is right. I’m not talking about waiting for the perfect condition for a smooth sail.

We unruly folk know that the conditions are oftentimes never right or perfect to start. But we start anyway knowing that our initial choice can be tended to & pruned as needed. When I write when the condition is right, I am referring to when we have the capacity to feel & be present. I am speaking of when we can feel the sunlight brush our skin, the sea salt rushing through our nostrils, the wayward wind gently pushing us on our way, & take note of other life around us (like dolphins skipping over waves). Through the practice of stillness, we become present in our bodies & our desires resurface from once murky waters. Suddenly, a rippled path emerges & we simply get to follow it home.

Please remember if you choose to quote this piece, share this piece, or any piece on this publication to always CITE BLACK WOMEN. Please always include the name and link to the Assemblage: Baby’s Breath substack publication in your sharing practice.

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1. Page 92 (in the Vintage International Publication) of Sula by Toni Morrison published in November 1973. Also, please check out this Sula Syllabus on the

For Opacity

publication by Camille Bacon.

2. Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments: Intimate Histories of Riotous Black Girls, Troublesome Women, and Queer Radicals by Saidiya Hartman