Yes, I know the title sounds a bit out there on the tip but I really couldn’t think of anything else that would describe where I’m going. It’s the best I have for what I’m about to give.
There is a dialogue in the 2012 Marvel film, The Avengers when the team is in the heat of battle and things are growing exponentially hotter. Bruce Banner begins walking in his human form towards a giant alien creature trailing in the sky toward them, hot on the heals of Iron Man. Captain American calls out to him. “Doctor Banner, now might be a good time for you to get angry.” Banner turns and responds in eerie calm, “That’s my secret, Captain, I’m always angry.” With that he turns back around and simultaneously transforms into the Hulk, humongous green forearm smashing full into the oncoming enemy.
That line and scene always intrigued me. “I’m always angry.” This was a revelation that Bruce Banner had evolved to a state of not being at war with the Hulk. He had ceased trying to tame the beast and had indelibly claimed the beast. Taking him into himself as a part of himself indistinguishable from any of life’s challenges, within or without. The Hulk had something he could use, something he needed. His value was acknowledged as necessary and given a space where he could serve. The Hulk (the proverbial shadow) no longer had to sneak in through an emotional tear in the veil and outrageously control the mental space until he exhausted himself. Bruce Banner and the Hulk were synchronized, a synergetic being on purpose. In this state he did not lose control, he took control. Gone was the instability of Hulk’s temper tantrum endangering all. Where they had been one flesh and separate minds, now they were of one flesh and mind united by spirit of purpose, path, and passion. A divided soul is an unstable being, a shifty character, no matter how well intentioned.
As of late, my schedule has been hectic to say the least. I was shifting gears fast and furiously racing back and forth from project to the idea of peace in a whirlwind of mounting destructive habits. Little sleep, spotty eating, and any another other byproduct of just short of chaotic, was taking its toll. I was raggedly transforming from the beast to the mild mannered scientist tossed back and forth by the reality of deadlines and obligations. It’s a good place to be in, where my art and expertise are in demand. However, my response to meet the demands, I realize, are NOT sustainable. Perhaps, this is part of what James Baldwin refers to as the price of the ticket -what we are willing to give up or sacrifice for what we want to have, be, and do. The most common and unwise sacrificial lamb on that altar is ourselves. Subsequently, our families, loved ones, career, and all else within the sphere of our influence, pay a price far above market value. The list is long…(To be continued..)
Notes of A Native Son 