Can You Feel It: The Reunion

It must have been the Spring of 1982. It must have been late Spring too, because I wore my Easter dress again-pale aqua polyester with a pleated full skirt. My Mama let me wear low heels and lip gloss. And my best friend in the whole world, Francine Bragg, had twirled a few strands of my hair around her fingers and patiently held it there until curls formed which could be pulled down over my ears into the perfect ringlets we called kiss-curls. I think Francine wore eyeshadow. (She was always a little faster than me.) We had to look fabulous because Mama and Mrs. Bragg were going to take us to see the Jackson 5 at the Municipal Auditorium in Nashville. Nashville. This was THE Jackson's Can You Feel It Reunion Tour. It was my very first concert, a very special night. We rode all the way to Nashville squealing in that way that transports little girls to states of transcendence. At the concert we clutched one another's arms, shoulders and hands while crying and screaming. And then for the rest of the year (and most of the next year) we would stretch our arms out, peck our necks like chickens and sing, "can you feel it? can you feel? can you feel it?". We'd look into one another in the eye, really wanting to know if the other person could still feel it. For a long time we did.

This very morning Sandee and I were in the car around 7:30 am. Sleepy still; still dream-filled. While we sat at a light on Grand Ave a brother in a dark suit and a darker SUV pulled up beside us and yelled "Have you got your lighters up? They're doing an MJ mix on the radio!" We fiddled with the stations until we found it: Oooo! There it was--Michael and all the Jacksons singing, Can You Feel It. I could. The brother in the SUV could.

I ask my Adult pre-GED reading and writing students what they think the future will be like. They, they are not optimistic. Visions of robots, greater unemployment (because of robots), hunger and violence dominate our conversation and end up being the topic of their practice paragraphs. To them I preach the gospel of a good book, not The Good Book. I offer, okay assign, young- adult sci-fi, 19th century lyric poetry, and Internet articles to improve their reading comprehension. As we read together I learn that comprehension skills improve when I ask 'How does this feel?' instead of asking what did you read. Feeling is the deepest knowing. With feeling, by and through feeling comprehension expands.

I talk to an old friend who is jubilant; filled with a type of joy I haven't felt radiating from him in years. I ask a lot of questions so that I can listen and bask in the beauty. " I was depressed," he confesses, "but it's over." I agree. I can feel it.

There's war and an oil spill in the Gulf. But the tide has turned. And maybe its an oily tide but it has turned. I can't point to economic markers or any concrete evidence; I'm not working out any flow charts or spread sheets showing how the whole world is getting better incrementally, but, hey... I just feel it. Somebody might try to roll up on it me now and pull my sour-puss papers, and then we'd have to scrap a little, but once I calmed down, still, I'd feel it. And I did just spend sixth months writing poetry with young people and the violence in and around their lives was a constant subject. I'm not unaware of what's real; I'm not some sheltered lady . But it's still there. There's beauty and redemption; there are wells of grace waiting for us to divine them from the depths of human division. I don't have concrete evidence but I have bone evidence. I feel it vibrating on my skeleton! It has me excited, a little uncomfortable; it has me tickled.

Michael Jackson died a year ago today. I've been thinking about him as I prepared to write this message. He was a brilliant musician, an incandescent performer. He was a less than perfect man though and, yet in his imperfection he still wrote hopeful and hopefully prophetic songs . Check out these Can You Feel It lyrics:

If you look around
The whole world's coming together now, babe

Feel it in the air,
The wind is taking it everywhere, yeah

Now tell me can you feel it,
can you feel it,
can you feel it

A friend whispers to me 'Now is the time...", affirm my feeling with his own. Almost all of my friends and family members get up everyday and continue to commit their lives to healing, change and transformation. I pray that they all can feel it, can feel their work making a difference. Often, I think of Francine singing with me in tobacco fields, in front of hog pens, by the rocky banks of the river. I send her prayers of thanks for helping me learn to feel. But mostly I thank my body for being the place where I feel the tingles, the anticipation, the gut instinct, the surety, the deep resonance.

Here's a little recipe for y'all. I made it for a friend who wanted to feel---passion again, hope again, peace again.....I call it the-

Can You Feel It Reunion Tea
2 parts Damiana
1 part Comfrey Leaf
1 part Green Tea
1 part Red Rose buds
1/2 Scullcap
a pinch of Jasmine
a pinch of Cinnamon

Boil some water then let that sit for a few minutes. Put about a couple of hearty teaspoon fulls into a strainer for a cup. Put a couple of hearty tablespoon fulls into a pot. Pour the water over the herbs and let it sit for 10-15 minutes. This is good hot or iced.

Sip, drink.
Can you feel it?