I don't mean to use such a big word - forgive me.
I have a story about one time I just stopped and sat still and thought ... now I'm thinking it was nonsense that I thought, but it is a thing that has made me live like a mad person for many of the maybe eighteen years since. The general idea was - no, I'm embarrassed to say it now, even if I was right and my madness has not been in vain.
Here is another thought. Black people have done well to go deep into all kinds of people's ways. Why not go deeper? Why not find ourself / ourselves? Who are we, who were our parents' parents and where were we ten thousand years ago? Are such things important?