The Things I Carried

The Things I Carried
Essay excerpt from 2006

“Even now, I’ll admit, the story makes me squirm. For [some time] I’ve had to live with it, feeling shame, trying to push it away, and so by this act of remembrance, by putting the facts down on paper, I’m hoping to relieve at least some of the pressure on my dreams. All of us, I suppose, like to believe that in a moral emergency we will behave like the heroes of our youth, bravely and forthrightly, without thought of personal loss or discredit. Certainly that was my conviction back in the summer of 1968.” The Things They Carried -Tim O’Brien

I took my purse, cell phone, the house keys, my iPod, and three outfits, including the one I left the house with. Little did I know that these few things would be the only things I owned for the next few weeks. As the day went, the sun embraced the sky with an ironic presence of charm and allure, unknowing of the following day, which would erupt in the madness of an extraordinary disaster. The strange assortment of the music on my iPod kept me comforted through many excruciating hours on the road as I traveled from one anonymous city to another. As I finally settled into the tremulous metropolis of Atlanta, I was constantly reminded of how my life had diminished into the things I carried. In the days following my escape, I remember thinking that I had lost everything; although I had taken CD’s and the most important of my material items, I had left behind some of the most memorable possessions one could ever have. I immediately thought of all the trophies and plaques I had received. I had images of them floating away in the intensifying toxic waters of the Big Easy. I pictured my baby photos and music compositions dissolving into the waste that had infiltrated my home. I had lost everything! But in the months following Hurricane Katrina, I realized that all I was and all that I would ever become lay within me; I discovered that the things I carried weren’t things after all—they were emotions, memories, and dreams. They were the types of things that grew into me, and I into them. Life had abruptly begun for me and the things I carried would transform me forever.

Comments

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary? That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like they ar

Exhausting Possibilities: A Sermon by Rev. Mia M. McClain

2 Kings 4:1-7 Delivered on August 15, 2021 at Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina I am a child of Grey’s Anatomy. No, not the human anatomy book by Henry Gray; the hit medical television drama. It’s safe to say that because of my obsession with the show, I am who am I, today. Between Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away With Murder, writer and producer Shonda Rhimes was basically my 3rd parent. In Grey’s Anatomy, so many life lessons were taught and learned. I saw so much of myself in the various groundbreaking characters she made room for on primetime television, and Shonda’s theologies and ideologies are on clear display in many of the landmark scenes. One scene, in particular, has had a lasting effect on me. In the 2nd episode of season 2, a trauma patient comes in who the paramedics have been working on for almost a half hour with no improvement in his condition. The paramedic tells the Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey, that the patient is practically g

God and Wine

Search This Blog