The Three Books: Phoenix
“You just gotta go back to form shooting, bro.”
-Horace Wormley
I was somewhat of a lower-end basketball prodigy as a child. I was a natural hooper, especially a shooter. If you think I am exaggerating, here are two vignettes. First, at about the age of eight or nine, my uncle, who coached at Manuel Arts High School in South Central Los Angeles, often took my older cousins to pay basketball at the school gym on weekends. One weekend, he finally decided to let me tag along and play with the grown men and teenagers. Two games later, I was completely face guarded like the Raptors did Steph Curry in the 2019 NBA Finals. Second, I was placed in the 13-16 year-old league at the age of 10. So, yeah. Needless to say, I painfully told myself to not go beyond high school because I was not good enough to take it far being only 5-foot-9 (barefoot). And I stopped after high school and just hit the books (I think it worked out).
Anyhow, I played in an adult rec[reation] league. For some reason, my shot was completely off. My longest friend who I’ve known since 1990, Horace, was shorter, but was also a significantly better player than me. He became a professional. Years ago, he and I were chatting. I jokingly mentioned how my shot was trash and was in the middle of a shooting slump. He simply replied, “You just gotta go back to form shooting, bro.”
Form shooting is a simple drill in which you shoot from a very close range, typically with one hand, recalibrating and re-solidifying your shooting form and touch. Very basic. Very fundamental. Very necessary. Not just necessary in basketball, but in life. Sometimes, you go astray, you chase your dreams, you chase a woman (or man, or someone), you chase your career, you chase the bag, or anything material. And with the aforementioned, we can lose our form, lose sight of ourselves.
I was overtaken by sadness and rage at the loss of my future family. My rage, however, was unlike past experiences with this volatile emotion. I am omitting the sources of my rage. A man gotta have a code. My longtime homegirl who had also recently gotten out of a serious relationship supplemented Horace’s old message when she told me to rediscover myself. My job was to rediscover who I was before all of this and add elements from all of this that will be useful for my growth. I first rediscovered family.
Family
When I moved to my new place, empty, alone, and furnitureless, I cried the entire night. I was triggered when I found a graduation picture that included my mother and my brother. I whispered, “I’m sorry,” and sobbed the rest of night. I can honestly say I felt like I was at my rock-bottom. Family means so much to me because I am fortunate to have one that positively shaped me, which is actually a privilege not experienced by everyone, unfortunately. Leaving for Texas not long after we were all devastated by tragedy made me feel guilty. Plus, I gave up a lot personally in the move. However, my immediate family takes precedence. I made the right decision.
I returned home during The Panorama during the holidays after not seeing my family for nearly a year. I just had to do it. I visited the original Chris Dickson (my father) and I decided to disclose the entire story to him. My relationship with my parents was not the greatest after they split. And what made it worse, ironically, was that I went on to become who I am. In a roundabout way, enhancing our relationship was up to me, although I am their boy, something I discussed at length with my therapist. I told Dad about my rage. And how it scared me. Because, honestly, that is a trait I inherited from him. He told me:
You are a better man than I ever was. I let my rage get the best of me, and I hate that you and your brother had to see what you saw.
My Dad and I hadn’t had a conversation with this level of depth in probably decades. I had the same conversation with my mother. Y’all know how mothers are with their sons. It was all “she will regret it!” and “I got somebody for you!” Hilarious, but Mom. I assured her that Linda had to do what’s best for her and she is and will be fine, and that this it’s all in the game (another, albeit inadvertent, Omar Little quote). Overall, being around my family helped me recalibrate my relationship with Mom and Dad and assured me that we are all going to be okay. However, my path to discovery also needed outside help.
Therapy
One evening during the early weeks of being in my new place, I was eating dinner and immersed in many thoughts with hints of rage. I stopped and told myself, “get a therapist.” I started researching, and asked [someone] about looking at therapists and what I should go after. Rather than thinking about it or taking notes, I immediately reached out to a therapist to set a consultation appointment.
Nearly four months later, my therapist helped me process my rage and insecurities. Netflix released a movie, Malcolm and Marie. My defenses were immediately triggered and I had reservations about watching it. My reaction had nothing to do with the movie itself, but about my concern for my emotional state. I texted [someone] about my concern with the movie, “Well, I’m going to give it a try. If it hits too hard, then I’ll be drunk in a few hours. Lol." Three hours later, I was fine. The movie hit on a couple things that hit my core, but there were no lasting effects. Perhaps I underestimated how much I healed and let my sadness and rage convert into positive energy. In addition to engaging with family and getting help with my thoughts and feelings, I have a relatively clean slate. Therapy has played a significant role in my rediscovery.
Dr. Christopher Dickson II
And then there is me. After doing some form shooting, I’m starting to get out of my slump.
Since moving to Texas, I lost 35 pounds and counting. Especially in last few months, I’ve gotten into the best shape and holistic health in my life. I used to think those people in their middle ages who claimed to be in the best shape of their lives were assholes. They weren’t. I understand now. If I maintain this discipline, I think I’m going to be completely chopped in about four to six months.
I talk to my mother and father more. They call me just to check-in on their boy. I don’t care about anything else (i.e. doctorate, experiences, money, etc.) because that is all material. I just always wanted to be their son. And I think we’re getting back to that form shooting. I sent my parents a copy of my dissertation, which is the inspiration of the title of this series of posts: A book for me, a book for Mom, and a book for Dad.
I feel like I have a brain again. I have a clear head. I read a multitude of non-academic books, remember things, and started laying the groundwork for the next phase of my life in terms of career, side ventures, property ownership, and financial planning. I want a family very badly. But that has to be secondary to getting myself right. It’s like commercial airplane safety protocols, we are instructed to put our own oxygen mask on first before aiding others. I am in the process of putting my own oxygen mask on.
Therapy has gone well for me. So much so that my therapist recommended that we meet bi-weekly rather than weekly. At this point, we are largely doing some fine-tuning.
Dating
Censored.
The Instinctive Renaissance
My old blog, The Dossier, served its purpose. It was fun. It was provocative. I enjoy reading some of my old posts, although some of it is cringe-worthy! But I don’t run from it. The cringe-worthy stuff is a reflection of where I was, and The Instinctive Renaissance is a reflection of my evolution. The Three Books was meant to be a reflection on the last decade and where I have been since my recreational writing came to a halt. You are now caught up. The I.R. is purely my passion project, and I imagine maybe a few relatives, a homie or two, and a random villager in Central Asia will follow my doings. But who knows. I will write often because I enjoy the process. I also enjoy inspiring thought and reflection (this is not the place to be if you are looking for answers and direction. Visit the countless charlatans on YouTube for that). I also created various pages of my engagements as I think of myself as somewhat of a renaissance man: one who has many interests and is not concerned with being hyper-specialized in one field. I write. I cook. I educate. I talk. I am. Last, but not least, I am in the nascent phase of developing a podcast, The Woodwork.
Let’s do it.
The three books…
