Freedom is a Calling

Hey y’all. Am dropping you a short note to share someone else’s wisdom and how it affected me recently. 

For some time now, I’ve been following Black Liturgies on Instagram. Cole Arthur Riley, its creator, describes it as: “a space that integrates spiritual practice with Black emotion, Black literature, and the Black body.”  In her most recent book, Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human, I read this line, “If you are called to anything, it will sound like freedom.”  

As No. 1s, we’re called to so much; a heavy cloud of duty and responsibility sits over us, and the sunshine of gratitude and reciprocal care breaks through only occasionally. Okay, maybe that’s hyperbolic, but there’s truth in it, yes? Caring for others is both rewarding and oppressive, especially when we’re making trade-offs between something we want to do and something we need to do. Some of that comes with living a life that is connected to other humans, and I wouldn’t want to change that. Connection and community are essential for us to thrive. 

But back to Cole. That line has stayed with me, because it’s only recently, since I started creative writing, that I have felt a deep calling and the true taste of freedom. And since I read her chapter on “Calling,” I’ve been thinking a lot about the connection between purpose and calling. And wondering if these two are in fact different? Maybe purpose is what circumstances call us to do, and calling is a deeper longing that comes from within.  

I think about my desire to write, and how it has been there always. I found ways to cheat – writing articles, a nonfiction book – but all in the context of being a responsible, hard-working immigrant. Not the same as writing for the sake of writing, for creativity, understanding, exploration.  

In this chapter, Cole also says, “we have falsely made our dignity dependent on our work.”  This is the big WE of capitalism and white supremacy and colonialism. And the small we of our families and communities. What would it like to be free to pursue our deepest desire? At what cost are you suppressing that desire?

This summer, I invite you to find some silence, not just for a few minutes or days, but for long enough that you can hear your calling. “It will sound like freedom.”

Sayu