بخش 5

Spiritual Genetics

People see God every day, they just don’t recognize him.

—PEARL BAILEY

Singer, Actress, Composer

AN INTRODUCTION TO LESSONS 38 TO 42—SPIRITUAL LESSONS FOR CONNECTING TO YOUR HIGHER POWER

In previous chapters, many of the life lessons for pursuing happyness have had a practical focus for accessing the abundance of resources that are available to all of us. In this chapter, we’re going to depart from the focus on the practical and turn to a handful of spiritual lessons that have been more empowering and more transformational for me over the course of my life as a whole than anything covered so far.

Though I continue to be a member of Glide Memorial Methodist Church in San Francisco and see myself as a mainstream Christian who rolls with Jesus, I honor the faiths of friends and colleagues who are Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, and those who have other viewpoints, as well as those who don’t name their beliefs. Therefore, if I had to say where my loyalty stands, I like to say “All of Thee Above.” The essence of spirituality—versus religious doctrines and denominations—is that it emphasizes the higher power that is within each of us and that connects us to one another.

You don’t have to subscribe to any religious affiliation to be spiritual. Frankly, when I imagine what heaven looks like, I don’t envision a bunch of souls running around wearing jerseys with denominational logos on the back. I could be wrong, but so far no one has come back to tell us otherwise. I’ve also considered that perhaps some religious leaders and institutions—of course not all—do damage by misrepresenting the word of the Lord or our higher power for their own purposes. This has led me to wonder what Jesus would say about how his teachings have been used.

A brief background on my use of the term “spiritual genetics” is definitely in order, since many have written to me asking for further elaboration. I’d never heard that term used before until it actually came out of my mouth in answer to a question that was put to me during a newspaper interview. The journalist had simply asked what it was that made it possible for me to break the generational cycle of fathers who abandon their children.

For a moment, I had started to say, well, I take after my mother. And then I thought it better to rephrase that and say I inherited that ability from my mother. But actually, as I thought about it further, I realized that it wasn’t a given; it was a conscious choice. I had at some point, when I was very young, consciously chosen to embrace the spirit in myself that I’d seen in my mother as well. I could have as easily chosen the spiritual genetics that I’d inherited from my biological father—who was a void in my life until I met him at age twenty-eight. Or I could have become that which I saw in my stepfather, for that matter. But instead, just as my mother chose to embrace her light—rather than the dark—so did I.

The more that I’ve explored the properties of spiritual genetics since that conversation with that interviewer, the more I believe we all can learn from embracing the best that is within us and within our human family. As we’ll be seeing with the lessons coming up, the good news is that, unlike your mother’s nose that you have no choice about inheriting, we have options as to which of our spiritual genetics we energize within ourselves.

I have received a deluge of correspondence, in fact, about this growing area of interest of mine—confirming for me that the subject is as enlightening to others as it is to me. A colleague of mine confided that he had never felt any connection to a higher power until he took a closer look at how he had consciously chosen to embrace a quality within himself that was reminiscent of the fighting spirit of his grandfather who had driven an ambulance for the French Resistance in World War II. Countless individuals have shared similar stories of embracing the light from the spiritual genetics of someone they loved. Others have written to say that they felt liberated by having the option to reject the darker aspects of their own spiritual genetics.

These next five life lessons represent only the beginning of my exploration of spiritual genetics, and only a sampling of how spiritual lessons ultimately reveal to us all the guidance we will ever need in our respective pursuits of happyness. Everything we’ve covered earlier is vital, I believe, in our journeys to become who we were meant to be. But it’s the spiritual wisdom we seek that brings the blessings and that crown us with our true glory. These lessons, therefore, aren’t intended to convert you to any way of thinking but your own. Hopefully, they will be nourishing, in any event, and leave you with some soul food for thought.

LESSON 38

Embrace the Best of Your Spiritual Genetics

KEYWORD: Enlightenment

Have you ever been thinking strongly about a question—searching for an answer that you couldn’t even find a map to steer you toward—when, out of the blue, your answer arrives? Or have you ever thought it uncanny when someone happens to come along as if divinely appointed and practically reads your mind with your answer? In my experience, the best way to make use of those moments of synchronicity is not to worry so much about how they happened but instead to enjoy the wonder. Not only that. I’ve also learned that those apparent coincidences can come as messenger moments—when valuable knowledge that is most needed can be obtained.

For instance, as I’ve recounted both here and in my memoir, The Pursuit of Happyness, my mother counseled me that whatever I wanted to do, I could. That was a messenger moment. When a perfect stranger happened to cross my path on the street in San Francisco and, without any specific, possible knowledge of my situation, reminded me about Glide Memorial’s food program and homeless hotel just when I most needed the support, that could only have been another messenger moment.

Along these same lines, not long after I had started thinking about this idea of spiritual genetics, before I’d found the words to ask more questions, important information arrived from Dr. Maya Angelou. In connection to a conversation we were having about the devastation in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina hit, we both agreed that the disaster revealed the best and the worst of human capacities for survival—the good, the bad, and the ugly. On the one hand, we saw the help citizens gave to one another to save lives, at the risk of their own. On the other hand, we saw those who simply didn’t care and let a city drown.

“But you know, Chris,” said Dr. Angelou, “we can’t separate ourselves from all that is human, good or bad.” She went on to say that whenever anyone commits the most heinous, unspeakable crime or whenever anyone rises to perform the most heroic act, we can’t say that we are like only one and not like the other.

What I understood her point to mean is that within us are capacities to be both the sinners and the saints. In any given situation, we can choose to embrace the saint within us but not the sinner. We all have our lightness and our darkness. Our human challenge is to continuously claim the light of the best that is within us—the best of our spiritual genetics.

You might even say that we all have the pursuit of happyness hardwired into us through our spiritual genetics, which can provide us with guidance no matter what we seek. The resources can be used to follow examples of what’s humanly possible from the best to the worst. That’s why when we say—wow, if that person can do something supposedly impossible, I can, too!—that statement is not just hopeful but backed up by someone else’s past experience. So, too, we can look at someone else and say—wow, if that person chose to do something I find reprehensible, I can choose not to do that.

When choosing not to give in to forces of darkness, we naturally look for the alternative. In my case, I found spiritual connection in my mother’s light. In spite of the ways that her dreams had been denied and deferred, the knowledge of her spirit in me empowered me not only to have dreams that she instilled in me, but also to exercise the power and the responsibility to make those dreams come true. Instead of simply inheriting spirit, choosing it makes it an active, living force. Thus, the conscious act of embracing light turns it on inside of you—as something alive, part of your soul, who you are and why you are.

Maybe this lesson resonates with conscious decisions you’ve made in the past to harness the light and the best of the energy of those around you. Or it’s possible that you are now being given the opportunity to look back and notice your own spiritual choices. And if we believe that we have within our human genetics the wisdom of others who have come before us, that gives us an unlimited—and let me emphasize unlimited—reservoir of expertise that can be utilized for whatever we seek to pursue. It follows as well that we’re all born with knowledge of the steps that have been taken by others before us and that will be taken by others after us.

As I’ve continued to research practical applications of spiritual genetics, I’ve been reading and discussing the subject with a range of spiritual thinkers. For example, Bishop Nathaniel Jarrett of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church referenced biblical passages that echo the premise of this lesson. He confirmed that indeed our Christian faith instructs us to believe that we are all born with a spirit that allows us to embrace God and light. No one is exempt.

Similarly, I understand from the teachings of Judaism that we are all born with the capacity to know God. Scripture tells us, after all, that we are each created in the image of the Divine and that we each have a divine soul—an indivisible essence that is inseparably bound to our creator.

I’ve also turned to the teachings of Buddhism for insights on how to connect with the light within us. There is a funky saying that has a few applications for all of us: “If you meet the Buddha on the road to enlightenment, kill him.” It’s another way of saying that as long as you’re following the Buddha, you ain’t driving. Again, it’s a reminder that as long as we hand the search for answers over to someone we think is wiser than us, we’ll remain in the dark. The story behind that mantra, I’ve read, has to do with the dying words spoken by Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha, which were “Be a lamp unto yourselves.” In other words, embrace your light. Or better still, be your own damn light!

While it is the best of our shared spiritual genetics that we can all aspire to embrace, I also am mindful of Dr. Angelou’s admonition not to condemn or separate ourselves from folks who have chosen to submit to the dark—sometimes by default, sometimes because of ignorance or the lack of intention to evolve spiritually. What is our role, I wonder, when confronted by those individuals?

That’s not an easy question for anyone. We can shrug and say, “Hey, I ain’t my brother’s keeper,” and move on. Or can we? Perhaps, we can get out the garlic and perform an exorcism. Not my style! My option, taught to me by my higher power, is simply to show my light—and to remind that person that we are connected.

Through your spiritual genetics, anywhere and everywhere, you can let your light be a beacon for others.

LESSON 39

Breaking Generational Cycles

KEYWORD: Healing

If the knowledge that we’re all human beings reminds us that nothing human should be alien to us, as Terence the playwright wrote, how can we use that awareness in breaking generational cycles? Let me simplify that by asking the question that comes up frequently: “How can we confront our own darkness?” Few questions weigh as heavily on all of us. Some of the most heartbreaking letters that I read come from parents who pray desperately to be healed from the same negative cycles they saw their parents battle and are watching their children do the same. I am referring not only to the generational cycle of men who abandon their children, but also to the continuing trends that are putting more and more of our youngest citizens into foster care and the juvenile justice system. I’m talking about the generational cycles of poverty, domestic violence, addiction, crime, sexual assault, homelessness, illiteracy, and incarceration. I’m also talking about general cycles of bigotry, mental illness, obesity, dependency, and teenagers becoming parents before they’ve learned how to take care of themselves. And no less insidious are generational cycles of disrespect for others, a disregard for our planet, and a dismissal of our responsibilities to rise together or fall apart.

It may not be too large a stretch, if you look at various branches of your family tree, to expect that you may find some of those same destructive patterns. You may have chosen not to allow those behaviors to influence you. It’s possible that you made that choice on a subconscious or preconscious level. You may also have not chosen and are now at the mercy of a cycle that controls you in ways you don’t even know.

We know, of course, from medical and scientific experts that the likelihood that you may develop such concerns as substance abuse, mental illness, or obesity does increase when those issues are evident in parents and other predecessors. We also hear the debates over nature versus nurture when it comes to heredity, family upbringing, and social environment in relation to the cause of certain generational cycles. My point isn’t to argue with experts but to say that instead of only looking at the disease model that asks “what went wrong?” when we look for possibilities for healing, we should also spend more time asking “what went right?” when cycles aren’t replicated.

It may surprise you—after all that’s been said about the darkness that my stepfather, Freddie Triplett, represented—to hear that I’m now thankful for the card dealt to me by his presence in my life. He helped me understand this lesson about how generational cycles can be broken. Because he was the way he was, I witnessed firsthand the worst examples of human behavior—a display that prompted my choice to become who I am: everything that he was not.

I chose not to perpetuate the generational cycle passed on from my biological father in providing the Y chromosome to multiple children borne by different women. My intent was to be the weak link in that chain, to break the cycle in my lineage.

In adulthood, I could look back and recognize the spiritual part of the choice that I made in early childhood to not be that man who spread his seed around and then didn’t spend time helping his offspring grow. At five or six years old, I learned something about healing myself in that process. Instead of feeling powerless, I could declare that I would never threaten or terrorize my children—as I’d experienced at the hands of my stepfather. As a five-year-old I didn’t know anything about commitment, parental responsibility, or the potential scarring that abandonment can cause. But I knew what a promise was and the promise to myself became part of my soul, who I am, all intertwined in my spiritual genetics.

When you accept that your generational cycle can be broken, and remind yourself that though it will be hard, you aren’t the first to do so, you’ll be ready for the challenge of taking a close look to see how it was instilled in you in the first place. You’re then prepared for the big job of making the conscious determination to uninstill it. Your higher power can help. Such was the situation for my friend and colleague Victor, now a devoted father, husband, successful actor, and activist in the arena of violence prevention. Victor told me about the decision he made when he was very young that he would never become the “madman” that his father was. Victor described to me the abuse that took place “on the level of torture,” which he, his siblings, his pets, and his mother experienced at the hands of his father. “No one had to tell me that it was wrong,” he said. “I think that children aren’t born bad. Violence is a learned behavior.” When I asked what it was that helped him break the cycle, his first answer was, “I knew that God had a better plan for me. I knew my father wanted to beat the goodness out of me and I refused to have my spirit broken.” As an adult, while he knew absolutely he would never hit a woman, before he became a father he developed anxiety over worry that he might carry some kind of genetic predisposition to hurt his own child. But that fear was put to rest when his son was born. “The moment I held my baby in my arms,” he told me, “I knew that I could never do to him what had been done to me. I knew that I’d broken the cycle.” Victor’s story leads me back to the properties of spiritual genetics, not just the awareness that God had a better plan for him but also that he made the choice—and took action—to embrace his own goodness. He chose healing rather than spiritual stagnation or degradation.

Stories of individuals like Victor who find ways to heal from negative influences remind us that just as our bodies have innate mechanisms for fighting off disease so, too, do our souls. This understanding has led me to conclude that our spiritual genetics endow us with an ancient blueprint for healing, growth, overcoming, and prevailing that is common to everyone.

As hard as breaking generational cycles can be, you can take heart in the knowledge that someone else has taken this same journey before and so can you. Your healing will then be a blessing not only for yourself, but for everyone else as well.

LESSON 40

Your Divine Inheritance

KEYWORD: Abundance

A letter came to me with such a story from Miller, a married father of two, who had a long history of making and losing money. In one year, he had gone from having his own company with half a million dollars of revenue to being broke. It was the partner who had emptied the coffers when he wasn’t looking. The next year he launched another company, which slowly but surely took off like wildfire and put him at the top of his game. Then came a downturn, one thing leading to another, and soon enough he was back at square one—only with debt, overhead, taxes, and employees.

At thirty-four years old, Miller started over, already with four separate entrepreneurial efforts cooking, all of which were promising. And yet, he wrote, “Every time I get some traction, I hit my limit—one that I’ve placed in my own way. What was it that told you that it wasn’t too late? I’m dealing with terrible credit, insecurity, trust issues, and health concerns. Where can I find the tools to go to the next level?” The first thing that jumped out at me in his e-mail was the fact that Miller had already identified his main obstacle as the limit he had put on himself. Maybe he wasn’t aware of how powerful that admission was. At the same time, most of his focus was on what he couldn’t attain or what had been taken from him. He wasn’t focusing on his true “divine inheritance”—the God-given abilities that were already within him and which could be used to their utmost.

Perhaps the reason he wasn’t focusing on this inheritance was because he was looking in the wrong place for resources rather than in his spiritual toolbox. Many of us, like Miller, don’t look there often enough because we feel that we don’t deserve the abundance that is due all of us in our pursuits of happyness. It’s not math—as in “if you do x you’ll get y”—or at least not in my view. My experience is that our blessings don’t just arrive when we achieve our aspirations. They’re given the moment our higher power lifts us up as we choose to set forth on any pursuit that is significant and worthy of our actions. So, it would then follow that we deserve to be blessed at the starting gate and every step of the way—not just at the finish line. Then again, our blessings might not be material or monetary.

You may be thinking right now that many earlier lessons could redirect him to a sense of worth and contribution. Building on those themes, this lesson adds a further layer as a reminder that each of us holds the deed to a vast divine inheritance that doesn’t diminish like a bank account.

I suppose this was something that I’d always known theoretically, but it wasn’t until reading a story told by Quincy Jones in his autobiography that I really understood the truth of it and the uses for that truth. Before I had the joy of getting to know him personally, I’d been fascinated to read of his ups and downs in pursuit of his award-winning careers as a musician, composer, producer, and global humanitarian.

My assumption had been that everything had sort of built effortlessly from the time that the young trumpet-playing phenomenon arrived on the music scene. Not exactly. By the late 1950s, after much early success, Quincy had finally started to make a name for himself and had set off on an extended European tour as a bandleader and tour organizer. While his focus was on his music and managing the demanding tour, money was not coming in as fast as it was going out. Meanwhile, he wasn’t keeping an eye on his other financial interests in the United States or on those he had entrusted to do that. All of a sudden, he was informed that mismanagement back home had come close to wiping him out.

Instead of giving in to an attitude that lack of money was going to be his undoing, he challenged that limitation and chose to believe, as he put it, that the financial losses were nothing compared with the divine inheritance that was on its way. He said as much in his memoir, and later to me directly, “I accepted that God had bigger dreams for me.” Indeed, he celebrated the abundance of talent and opportunity he had already received, and he declared it to be only the beginning of what God and the universe had in store for him.

By choosing to believe that there was something even more special he was intended for, which was still to come, he allowed his true, unlimited inheritance to be revealed in ways that he could never have predicted.

The premise that God has bigger dreams and plans than even we can claim for ourselves is one we can choose to accept or not. It’s up to us to say yes or no, and then, to be ready for receiving what we’ve selected.

A short while after reading Miller’s e-mail, I wondered if the lesson of divine inheritance that had inspired me earlier on would be of interest to him. When I decided to follow up first, and see how he was doing, I was further inspired by his answer. Times were very tough. His circumstances had not dramatically improved. But something had changed. He had decided that he was going to focus on providing for the basic well-being of his family. For all those years, he had attached monetary status with his pursuit of being someone significant in the world. Now he was looking for other kinds of abundance to attach to his importance. Miller has always focused on “getting somewhere” and “making it,” but he was doing something that he never had before; he e-mailed me, “I’m just being where I am and waiting for God to give me instructions.” Miller message leads me to a last advisory that I should add about the divine inheritance intended for us to do, be, and have is that all of this unfolds for us in divine time. It doesn’t run on overnight FedEx or the schedule of our choosing. We can prepare for it, however, just as Miller has, by declaring ourselves ready for our instructions.

LESSON 41

God’s in the Details

KEYWORD: Reverence

It’s a good thing that I’ve got a sharp, visual memory, because whenever I see a beautiful, moving sight, the idea of whipping out a camera or cell phone to take a shot just seems to cheapen the experience for me.

A very basic yet potent spiritual lesson for me has been to find reverence in living the moments of my life without a special lens. Real, raw, touching, funny. That’s how I show reverence to God—just by admiring his handiwork. It doesn’t have to be a sensational sunset or a perfect orchid or a view from the edge of the Grand Canyon.

And I’d love to say that I’ve had an encounter with a burning bush or two, but the closest that I can remember to getting a sign from heaven was the time that I noticed roses growing in the Oakland ghetto which led me to find my first place to rent after homelessness. Maybe it wasn’t a divine sign, but those roses flourishing in the neighborhood where they weren’t supposed to be able to grow were miraculous. It was one of those details that had God written all over it.

Reverence for those details doesn’t require us to do anything special. “Wow” works. Applause is nice. You know I’m partial to doing the alligator dance and throwing the confetti, too.

I’ve also applied this lesson as a reminder that prayer doesn’t have to be complicated. My mother used to say that the best words in the English language are please and thank you. Dr. Angelou added to that two more helpful words, I’m sorry. All of those words are great ways to start prayers.

God by any name we want to call him does listen—especially when we listen to what has been called that small still voice within us that comes from the light of our spiritual genetics. My favorite prayer is that of simple gratitude. I’ve also learned from this lesson that when in doubt about what I’m supposed to be doing next, there’s nothing wrong with seeking guidance by saying to my higher power—“Thy will, not my will.”

All that’s required for reverence is the choice to pay attention to the details. When you spot someone on the street begging, you don’t have to do anything or give that person a nickel. But see them. Please see them. They’ve got God in their souls, too. You don’t have to be God, by the way, and rescue that person. But if you want to help, next time you start to leave a restaurant with half your plate still full—why not have it wrapped up to go, and hand it to the next hungry person who crosses your path? Or if you prefer, show your reverence by going home and writing a check to an organization that has a track record in helping root out the causes of homelessness that propel the cycle. That is reverence.

LESSON 42

Passing the Torch, Raising the Bar

KEYWORD: Growth

As you most likely have experienced for yourself, there are certain rites of passage for everyone—weddings, funerals, births, graduations, birthdays, and other observances or rituals—that stand out as peak moments of spiritual connection not only to one another but to all who have come before us and all who will come after us. These events frequently yield some of our most cherished memories and can serve almost as culminations of every lesson we have learned up until that point.

I’d like to share such an experience with you, knowing as I do that parts of it may summon memories for you of important rites of passage in your life. The occasion was Mother’s Day 2008, the proudest day of my life. In the weeks and months leading up to that day, a few different events had been in the works for a while. In less than four years, thanks to tenacity, planning, passion, and laser-beam-like focus, my daughter, Jacintha, Jay for short, was set to graduate from her dream school—Hampton University in Hampton, Virginia.

Over the course of many visits to the campus of this revered institution of higher learning, a historically African American college—nestled in a picturesque town along a beautiful waterfront setting—I often thought of how Jay’s journey was carrying forward the dream of Bettye Jean Gardner. And so now that graduation day was approaching, the finality of it coming to fruition filled me with incredible nostalgia.

The other milestone was that on the same morning before the graduation ceremonies were to start, I met my first grandchild. That’s right, Christopher Jr., that little baby boy who’d lived with me through our time in the wilderness, had become the father of the most beautiful, precious girl—who I held in my arms that morning in wonder, knowing that one day she would look up at her father and say, “Poppa, you’re a good poppa.”

You can imagine the emotions that were churned up for me that day, made more intense by the fact that I’d been called upon to deliver the commencement address. As I approached the podium and gazed out at what had to be more than ten thousand people on hand to celebrate the 2008 graduating Onyx Class, that moment was my rite of passage. This was, at last, proof that I’d kept the promise made to myself at five or six years old to become the father that I’d never had. The choice to pursue a path of growth by embracing the light of my spiritual genetics had led me to this moment. Now it was time not only to pass the torch to the next generation but also to start where I was—with new possibilities and further stars to seek. But before that, it was time to honor the rite of passage of the graduates whose day this truly was.

My speech began with a confession, as I acknowledged, “It has been my privilege to address bodies as broad and diverse as the United Nations, major Fortune 500 companies, and community organizations all over the world. But this moment, this day, this celebration, is absolutely the greatest event that I have ever been privileged to participate in.” As I scanned the crowd, hoping to direct my comments to my daughter in her cap and gown, I continued, “And I say that for one very selfish reason. Today my child walks across this stage and will become the first person in the history of my immediate family to graduate from college since we got off a slave ship four hundred years ago. So, for us, it has been four hundred years to Hampton.” Of course, I knew from the murmur in the crowd that I wasn’t alone in this experience of seeing a child or grandchild become the first in the family to graduate. It dawned on me that spiritual genetics was once again at work, tapping the dreams and prayers of ancestors from all walks of life who sought freedom, opportunity, and education for their families and future generations.

My message to the graduates began with my promise to show my appreciation by giving the shortest commencement address in history. Continuing, I said, “I would like to share a few things that hopefully you will consider as you cross this stage and step into the rest of your life. I gave a lot of thought to what could be of meaning and relevance to you at this, the beginning of your pursuit of career, life, and happyness. I decided not to spend my time here with you to discuss current economic trends and conditions, what could or could not happen politically, nor what corporations are considering the near-term response to both of the aforementioned. I would like to take this time with you to encourage you to dream a bigger dream, to dream, dare, and do.” And then I had to add, “Seek to become world class at whatever it is that turns you on,” to which a roar of applause followed, much to my surprise. Sometimes the most obvious truths say it all.

After sharing with them several of the life lessons that have been mainstays for me, I finally spotted Jacintha and spoke directly to her, saying to everyone else as well, “I would like to close my remarks with a brief nod to my child.” Though I couldn’t see her face for the blur of tears that I was fighting back, I told her, “There are no words to express the joy that you have brought not just to me but to our entire historical and extended family. Some folks that you knew, some folks that unfortunately you didn’t get to know better, and some folks you only heard of. Because today when you walk across this stage you will become the first person in the history of our family, since we got off a slave ship four hundred years ago to graduate from college.” Again, applause and cheers followed. I talked to my daughter but I was speaking for everyone in noting that four hundred years to Hampton was a metaphor for our collective journey, four hundred years of blood, sweat, and tears, and of oceanic persistence. “When you cross this stage today,” I continued telling Jay, “be mindful of all the folks who came before you, who made this day possible. For the last four years you did the work, you had the ball, you handled your business. But never forget the folks who came earlier.”

And finally, I summed up my life as a parent, on behalf of those of us who invest in the dreams of others, by bragging about my baby girl, now a college graduate, and how much she had taught me. I had to put it this way: “Men don’t know what love is until they have a daughter. When Jacintha was eight years old she climbed on my lap and said she was never going to grow up, that she would always stay my little girl forever. When she was thirteen she told me she didn’t need me to hold her hand to cross the street and last night she took my arm as we went to dinner to celebrate her graduation.” I think in that moment I saw thousands of fathers wipe away their man tears, so I added, “We love our sons, I love my son, but every man in here will tell you that when that little girl looks up at you and says ‘Daddy’…the world stops.” And there in that audience were many single parents who had to be both momma and daddy, as there are the world over, and it makes not one bit of difference when we come to these moments to collectively feel the gratitude and pride for where we have arrived. Our children are our greatest blessing.

For this privilege of parenthood, I ended with great praise and great thanks, starting with words spoken at my mother’s funeral, when all I could do was to stand at her casket and say, “Thank you, Momma.” Again to Jacintha I said, “Right now I thank God for letting you be my daughter and I thank you for letting me be your father.” Last but not least, I thanked the graduating class of Hampton University, echoing my earlier words that the only takeaway I hoped they wouldn’t forget was my mantra: “Always Pursue Happyness.” The cheers, whoops, and hollers for the theme song that you can never sing enough were better than if I had been Miles Davis and Muhammad Ali at the peak of their careers. But I had to add a final thought, “The absolutely last thing that I want to say to my children is that we all know that never again for our family will it be four hundred years to Hampton.” The lesson that I learned about pride and happyness at my daughter’s graduation and the birth of my son’s first child, my granddaughter, is one that I want to leave with you, that I hope finds a place in your heart for safekeeping. On that day, I celebrated the miracle of being simply a stepping-stone in the journeys of my children, and others. Not without plenty of tears, as I’ve duly reported.

Thus, I came to the end of one journey and left there after hours of dancing the alligator and throwing confetti, aware that I was about to start the next journey—destination not yet defined. All the life lessons in sum and the choices made to put them to use had brought me to this new departure point. And I realized, quite clearly, that the most important lesson of all was the one coming up around the bend, the one I had yet to learn.

So there you are, take this lesson and apply it in good health, wherever you choose to go, whatever you dare to dream and do. Godspeed, go make yourself proud.