And Then We Rise

How do you rise when the world tries to weigh you down? In And Then We Rise, Common—artist, actor, and activist—invites readers on a transformative journey of self-love, wellness, and spiritual awakening. He contends that true revolution begins within. To love your community, you must first learn to love yourself. This is not self-love as vanity; it is self-love as discipline, healing, and connection to God. Common’s pursuit of wellness becomes a blueprint for living in alignment—with body, mind, and soul.

The book unfolds through four interconnected pillars: The Food, The Body, The Mind, and The Soul. Each one reflects a stage of elevation that mirrors John Coltrane’s album structure in A Love Supreme: Acknowledgment, Resolution, Pursuance, and Psalm. Common uses this metaphor to map the arc of self-growth, anchored by Black wisdom traditions, spiritual insight, and a deep respect for creative expression. Every act of nurturing self, he says, becomes a prayer of resistance.

From Art to Spiritual Practice

Common grew up in Chicago, surrounded by faith, rhythm, and community, but like many, he had to learn that wellness is not automatic—it’s cultivated. His transformation began not on a stage, but in the kitchen. Experimenting with food led him to reimagine health as love in action. Over time, he discovered that nutrition, exercise, creativity, therapy, and faith all converge as interconnected forms of care. His teachers—Dr. Tracey Rico (a holistic physician), Chef Lauren Von Der Pool (a “Queen of Green”), trainer Yancy Berry, therapist Susan Shilling, and Pastor Touré Roberts—become guides helping him strip away survival habits and move toward thriving wholeness.

At its heart, And Then We Rise argues that self-activism is the foundation of social activism. Healing yourself enables you to serve others without depleting your soul. As Common puts it, “There is no activism without self-activism.” Drawing from thinkers like Audre Lorde, Maya Angelou, and Angela Davis, he situates self-care as a revolutionary act—especially for Black people navigating systems of oppression that have historically demanded self-sacrifice without self-preservation.

The Structure of Inner Elevation

Each section of the book mirrors a spiritual arc. “The Food” explores the relationship between nourishment and purpose—how choosing greens over grease can literally change consciousness. “The Body” turns movement into meditation, showing how physical strength translates to emotional balance. “The Mind” dives into creativity, therapy, and mindset, revealing how expression and introspection sharpen self-understanding. Finally, “The Soul” binds these together through faith—a living connection to the Divine that fuels compassion, love, and endurance.

Common doesn’t preach perfection. He embraces vulnerability, sharing stories of slipping back into unhealthy habits, grieving his grandmother’s memory loss, and confronting emotional pain through therapy. But every misstep becomes part of the lesson—proof that rising is not about constant ascent, but about returning to your highest self each time you fall. His story shows how self-awareness, discipline, and faith converge to make wellness sustainable and soulful.

Why This Message Matters Now

In a world overwhelmed by violence, burnout, and relentless consumption, Common’s message is both timely and radical. He frames self-care as cultural healing, especially within Black communities that have carried generational trauma. His philosophy bridges the spiritual with the actionable: what we eat, how we move, what we think, and what we believe are all acts of divine intention. This isn’t escapism—it’s empowerment. By elevating the self, you elevate the collective. As Maya Angelou’s words echo in his epigraph, “Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear, I rise.” And Then We Rise is Common’s invitation for you to do the same—one conscious, loving choice at a time.

Food, Common insists, is much more than fuel—it’s communication, memory, and love. As a child on Chicago’s South Side, food meant family gatherings, soul food, and church dinners. Health wasn’t part of the conversation. He loved fried chicken, ribs, and Harold’s Chicken Shack. Yet this early relationship with food also reflected cultural inheritance—recipes formed through survival. It wasn’t until much later that he realized some traditions provided emotional warmth but not physical wellness.

Awakening Through Music and Awareness

The first seeds of change came not from a doctor but from hip-hop. Common recalls hearing KRS-One rap proudly about being vegetarian and self-aware. Lyrics from artists like Brand Nubian and A Tribe Called Quest reframed eating not just as pleasure but as consciousness. This was the microphone becoming the classroom. (Similarly, in Bryant Terry’s Vegan Soul Kitchen, food politics and cultural pride are intertwined.) As he grew older, Common began to link diet with mood, clarity, and creativity—a living feedback loop between plate and purpose.

A Turning Point Toward Self-Care

One transformative moment occurred when his friend and producer No I.D. asked him, “When are you going to start taking care of yourself?” At nineteen, after a lifetime of pork chops and late-night burgers, Common decided to quit pork—and soon after, beef—because his body simply felt better without them. That experiment grew into a spiritual practice. By his mid-twenties in Brooklyn, surrounded by a community of artists and vegetarians, he found that living plant-based wasn’t deprivation; it was liberation. He felt lighter, slept better, and created with clarity.

Learning From Teachers of Wellness

Dr. Tracey Rico, an integrative physician, taught him that illness often results from accumulation—small daily choices compounding over decades. She reframed prevention as empowerment. Chef Lauren Von Der Pool deepened this understanding, showing that food holds energy and intention: “If the cook has negative energy, you eat that frequency.” For both, good food isn’t elitist—it’s ancestral, earthy, and communal. They advocate eating real, whole, mostly plant-based foods and infusing them with prayer, gratitude, and love. Common calls this “eating your way into your higher self.”

From Gratitude to Community

Through mindful eating, Common reimagined grace. Saying thank you before meals became a meditation on all hands and forces—human, divine, and natural—that made nourishment possible. Food thus became both individual empowerment and collective care. He urges readers to start small: add greens to breakfast, replace coffee with juice, approach each bite with reverence. In doing so, eating becomes a daily act of love, activism, and faith. As he and activists like Karen Washington argue, “Food justice is self-justice.”

Common’s philosophy of physical wellness was born courtside—inspired by Michael Jordan’s flight. As a boy working as a Chicago Bulls ball boy, he watched Jordan soar and realized that the body, when disciplined, could manifest divinity. Over time, his own evolution from passive observer to active participant mirrored his spiritual journey: mastery of body requires mastery of self.

Discipline and Transformation

His first lessons came from family. His uncle’s tough love on the youth basketball court taught him perseverance: “If you want to be good, you have to work at it.” Decades later, that mantra guided him back to the gym as he prepared for his first movie role in Smokin’ Aces. With trainer Harley Pasternak, Common discovered that fitness isn’t vanity—it’s focus. Routine push-ups and lunges became rituals of renewal. Progress, not perfection, became the target. (It echoes James Clear’s idea in Atomic Habits that consistency outweighs intensity.)

Mind–Body Connection

Dr. Tracey reinforced that humans are designed for motion. “Exercise is medicine,” she told him. Movement oxygenates the blood, clears the mind, and generates the feel-good neurochemistry no pill can replicate. Yancy Berry, his longtime trainer and life coach, carried this further—teaching that true strength includes emotional, intellectual, and social fitness. Working out became Common’s sacred alone time: headphones on, 1990s hip-hop blasting, tension releasing. Every sweat session reaffirmed that care of body is care of soul.

Resilience Through Change

Even setbacks became lessons. Contracting Covid revealed how fragile yet adaptable the body can be; movement helped him recover mental clarity and faith. His mentors guided him to focus on process over perfection: record your habits, start small, build momentum—a four-week beginner’s plan turns into a lifetime of strength. He shares this approach so others can “start where you are” and celebrate every step. The result isn’t a sculpted physique but the confidence that comes from keeping promises to oneself.

Embodied Joy

To rise, you must inhabit your body with gratitude. Common reframes exercise as praise. When you move, breathe, and stretch, you participate in creation itself. Each push-up, squat, or walk becomes a declaration of worthiness. His lesson mirrors ancient wisdom—from yoga to Stoicism—that the body anchors the mind’s serenity. “The only bad workout,” he says, “is the one you didn’t do.”

Common’s mental wellness journey weaves art, self-inquiry, and community healing into one practice. For him, creativity is divine: each verse or role becomes both confession and revelation. Writing his first rap at twelve mirrored prayer—an act of channeling spirit into rhythm. Whether freestyling, acting, or journaling, he recognized that creative flow connects mind and soul. (“Creativity is a conversation with God,” echoes Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic.)

Art as Healing

Performing “Glory” for Selma or his stage play Bluebird Memories showed him that artistic creation can be both personal therapy and public ministry. It’s how he processes pain, honors ancestors, and transforms individual struggle into communal triumph. The joy of creation replenishes the spirit, reducing stress hormones and energizing the body—science now confirms what spiritual traditions have long known.

The Power of Therapy

To understand his patterns, Common needed professional guidance. Through a decade of sessions with therapist Susan Shilling, he confronted childhood trauma, feelings of abandonment by his father, and relational fears. Therapy helped him move from revisiting pain to rewriting identity. Susan’s metaphor of the “underground river” illustrates how unprocessed experiences flow beneath our awareness, shaping how we love and react. By shedding shame, he learned compassion—for his inner child and for others.

Peace Amid Chaos

The mind, like a garden, must be tended. Practices like gratitude, mindfulness, journaling, and reading provide sun and water. Common quotes Philippians 4:8—“Whatever is noble, whatever is pure… think about such things”—as a mantra for mental hygiene. By redirecting thought, you redirect reality. Freedom means releasing bad takes, as Dwyane Wade once advised him after a missed shot: short memory. Each day is a new chance to realign thought, art, and action toward peace.

Community Healing

Finally, mental well-being extends beyond the individual. Supporting leaders like Chicago’s Brandon Johnson, who centers mental health in policy, Common affirms that community healing begins with emotional literacy. To think clearly is to live clearly. A renewed mind, he shows, becomes a tool not of ego but of empathy—a mind that sees love as both principle and practice.

At the summit of Common’s philosophy lies the soul—the quiet, essential part of us that listens for God’s breath. He learned early from his mother that prayer and church were foundations of survival. Yet his evolving spirituality transcends denomination: Christianity forms the framework, but he recognizes divine truth in many paths, from Buddhism to Islam. Religion, he explains, is a doorway; relationship with God is the destination.

Spiritual Practice as Daily Action

Each morning, Common begins by thanking God, reading scripture, and meditating before touching his phone. These rituals ground him in gratitude and intention. “If you greet the morning with grace,” he says, “the day greets you back.” Prayer becomes collaboration: he does his part through discipline; God handles the timing. This mindset, shared by mentors like Pastor Touré Roberts, keeps him focused not on material success but on alignment with purpose.

Breath and the Divine Connection

Breath, he learns from Dr. Tracey, is the physical expression of spirit. Each inhale is divine life entering the body; each exhale is release. During acting and rapping, breath control grounds his presence, linking physiology with transcendence. The unity of body, mind, and spirit becomes tangible through respiration—life literally moved by God inside us. (In yoga, this is prana; in Christian mysticism, it’s pneuma—the same sacred idea.)

From Stillness to Service

The pandemic forced him to slow down—a blessing disguised as isolation. Stillness taught him to listen: to God, to himself, to loved ones. Out of this peace emerged renewed clarity and purpose. He discovered that success without soul is noise; fulfillment arrives when ambition harmonizes with compassion. Whether mentoring through the Common Ground Foundation or writing music like “Glory,” his spirituality manifests as love in action—faith with feet.

Living in Wholeness

Common’s journey ends where it began—with love. To “rise” means to return continually to your higher self: clear in body, calm in mind, open in heart, grounded in spirit. It’s not perfection but presence. As he reflects on his daughter Omoye’s growth and his mother’s evolving faith, he sees generational healing come full circle. The soul’s task, he concludes, is simple but profound: to live in joy, give from abundance, and let every breath praise the Creator.