What If Biggie Got to Europe?

I was watching the Diddy documentary on Netflix. First, he’s a freaky frog. Second, there was a moment that stuck with me: they mentioned that Biggie was killed right before he was supposed to go to Europe.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about that.

What if Biggie actually got to Europe?

Not in a conspiracy way, more like how many lives have almost moments? How many versions of people never get to exist?

That question turned into a whole spiral of what ifs in my own life. Which is funny, because this blog was originally going to be about not doing that, and more about staying grounded in the present. But then I caught myself way too excited about being able to link the “freaky frog” video to describe Diddy. And I was disturbed.

Because I’ve noticed something about myself: I can communicate fluently when memes are appropriate, but formal conversation makes me feel inarticulate, even when I’m not.

And that’s what this blog will actually be about.

I started thinking about what I was feeding my mind, and how that shapes the way I think and communicate. While I was laid off, I wanted to be as productive as possible, while still having grace, so I downloaded Kanopy, an app you can log into with your library card that has documentaries, films, and things made for learning or artistic value. I figured it would do more for me than rewatching Real Housewives of Atlanta from season one and sharpening my Nene quotes for my mental Rolodex of memes.

I watched things that were informative, like a documentary on Black portrayal and caricature on television that made me consider how we unconsciously emulate what we see on tv. Surely I’m not meant to be modeling my behavior after Baddies (or any other trash tv for that matter): fighting, cussing, ass out… and expecting growth.

I watched things that inspired me as an artist, like a documentary on Nellie Mae Rowe, whose work I’d already seen at The High. That doc helped me stop putting so much pressure on myself to create while I was still carrying obligations and uncertainty.

I also watched The Automat, about restaurants that had windows with food in them. You’d put money in the slot for your selection, and out comes your meal, piping hot, because right behind the wall was a full kitchen. It seemed like such a good idea for me, as someone who actively avoids communication in public, but they don’t exist anymore.

At first, it felt like just a fun fact, but then the dots connected when I walked down the Beltline and realized Emerald City Bagels actually has an automat. I felt like I knew a little secret. I’d eaten there before (not good) and paid it absolutely no mind.

From there, I graduated to YouTube documentaries. Like the one on pagpag, where Filipinos scavenge already eaten chicken bones, cook them in sauce, and serve them to poor communities. Or the one where a girl in Ghana was kidnapped by her uncle and forced to live in isolation forever as a Trokosi to atone for his adultery.

All of these things added up to one theme for me: even though life could be better, you always want more.. to do more, to be more. But compared to how things could’ve gone, things were actually pretty fucking good. You could be eating already eaten chicken bones, but I was just down at the Bojangles the other day!

I could be stuck in a cave, atoning for my family’s crimes, never able to explore my interests or hobbies, and here I was, lying on the couch stuck in a depression. Get up!

Funny enough, after spiraling through automats and pagpag, I guess I did circle back to the original idea: staying present and grounded in my reality.

The next step is paying attention not just to what I consume, but how I respond to the world around me.

My commute, for example. At first, Atlanta traffic was a just small, cute annoyance. I’d get into my music and imagine I was anywhere else. A few months in, it has ballooned into a full blown issue. My nerves are shot by the time I get home.

I decided to change the commute itself. If I was going to be stuck for an hour and thirty minutes (do you know you have 30 mins??), I’d make it productive. I started listening to audiobooks, beginning with The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck. Biggest takeaway: accept what is, and move forward anyway.

I’ve now moved onto Designing Your Life, which I haven’t fully dug into yet, but it frames life’s problems like a designer would. The most important thing that I’ve learned so far is what the authors call “gravity problems”: things that aren’t really problems because they have no solution. If it doesn’t have a solution, it’s not a problem, it’s simply circumstance.

Atlanta traffic is a gravity problem.

It made me realize that a large portion of issues I whine about on a daily basis are gravity problems. They don’t have solutions, they’re simply circumstance. While I don’t have the power to change these things, I do have authority over how I respond. I can either crumble under them or change my way of being to accommodate and mitigate them.

In the past, I had a tendency to let things happen to me, being reactive instead of proactive. Now, I pause, assess what I can actually fix, take action there, and release what I can’t. Once I stopped carrying gravity problems on my shoulders, I could finally breathe.

At some point, we have to stop being victims of circumstance. Let go of the life you thought you’d have. Let go of how you think things should be. Deal with what is. Maneuver within reality, and release the rest.

I stopped wondering what might have changed if I’d made different decisions (because I could never know for sure). Instead, I looked at what did happen and how to make better decisions going forward, knowing that every choice, no matter how small, led me exactly here. And while things could’ve turned out differently, there’s no guarantee they would’ve turned out better. I’m doing pretty damn good, all things considered.

So no, Biggie never made it to Europe. We can ponder and debate how it might’ve changed culture, what implications it could’ve had, but the bottom line is simple: he didn’t make it.

But I’m still making it. In this version of life, present, building what’s next, and letting go of what I can’t control.