Something to think about….
Today I was honored to be a guest blogger on T.Wayne’s Flashback Friday over at Joyful Process. Check out my post here.
So you thought you felt as i did
Looking for something
You thought you may have found it
Then it seemed to disappear
And fade away
You learned you were wrong
You made a mistake
Everything you thought you’d found
Turned out to be a mirage
Nothing but a mere illusion
What had seemed so real
Was gone in a flash
What if you were wrong?
What if you ARE wrong?
What if none of it mattered?
What if you were wrong about knowing?
Maybe sometimes you just don’t know
What you think you know
Maybe sometimes the way you think things should happen, don’t happen that way at all
What if it takes more than just a moment
To really find the truth
What if it takes time
To really know
What if you never know?
What if it takes change
To really find what you thought you had lost
What if you thought you lost something
Only to realize it was really there all along
That it just wasn’t where you thought it was
Was right in front of your face but you weren’t really ready to see it?
Not at that time
Just what if
None of that mattered
What if you were right where you were supposed to be
What if you weren’t supposed to know
What if you were supposed to learn
Live and love and change
Never really knowing all the answers
Just taking it all in
Being content in the moment
Realizing that even if you don’t know the why of the why
Knowing that everything happens for a reason and accepting the unknown
Recently I signed up for a free 21 day meditation with Oprah and Deepak (who is no relation to Tupac as my sister seemed to be curious about), called Shedding the Weight – Mind, body and spirit. It was free, so I figured, why not? Can’t hurt, right? I’m up to day 17 and I have no idea if I have physically lost any weight because I threw away my scale back in January. I was getting rediculously obsessed with weighing myself. I also rid my house of all diet books. I know that 99.9% of anything is mental, at least for me anyways. So what I have been trying to figure out for a while now is what am I holding on to?
Continue reading “Packing Light”
She was tired. Exhausted really. Tired of trying to be someone she wasn’t. Tired of trying to contain and stuff and hide the real her. Why must she sugar coat herself? Why did she continue to people please. Didn’t she know they wouldn’t be happy? Didn’t she know you can’t water yourself down? Didn’t she realize there was nothing wrong with the she that she needed to be? She was perfectly imperfect. She was like no one else. Why should she bend and twist and try so hard to fit the mold that wasn’t even made for her. Just say what’s on her mind. Do what she wanted to do. Yes, she could be a miserable bitch. She could also be a sensitive woman. Highly emotionally. She had almost forgotten what it was like to feel. She had been hurt and saddened and disappointed so many times that she had stopped feeling. She started lying to herself. She started telling herself whatever she needed to hear to believe that she didn’t need to feel. So she held it inside. She stuffed it away. She crammed it in and became this other person. The one who pretended she didn’t care. Pretended she didn’t want or need or feel. She shut it off. But that day she was tired. She realized it took too much energy to be this other woman. It took too much fighting and too much negativity. One day she stopped lying to herself and finally admitted the truth. She felt sad and hurt and foolish and broken. And she just wanted to cry. To let it out. But it was stuck. Like the day her friend passed away. It had been stuffed in and pushed away and hidden behind the shadows until she didn’t even know how to get it out. How to let it out. So she sat down and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Breathe. That’s all she needed to do. Just breathe. She took a deep breath and another and another… and she let it out… and that’s when she realized she was enough. She was all she needed to be but she needed to be who she really was. She needed to have feelings. To be a woman. She hadn’t felt emotion in so long because she didn’t want to get mad or upset anyone so she would just smile and stuff it all away. Until the day she broke through and realized those emotions were meant to be felt. You were supposed to feel.
And she thought, “I don’t know how to do this!” I’m scared because I haven’t felt. I just want to feel. And she knew that she could. This was the day she realized it was time to live.
Thank you, thank you, thank you! I would like to thank T. Wayne from a A Joyful Process for the nomination for this award. It is an honor and a pleasure to be here! I would like to thank the little people that made this possible along the way and most of all I would like to thank…Oh wait…what? This is just a blogging award? Oh well, I am still flattered! Thanks T. Wayne for nominating me for the Music and Words Award.
Of course, there are always rules involved with these awards so here they are:
Link back to the person who nominated you.
Answer these questions with words AND music.
Pass the award to 5 bloggers who inspire you with posts about music. (Even if they are award-free?) Well see about this one.
Tag your post with #MWA, for Music & Words Award so we can all follow you down the line.
Quote these five steps and the award icon in your post. You can display the icon on your sidebar as well.
So, here are the questions.
WHAT DOES MUSIC MEAN TO YOU?
Music is my peace of mind. If I am having a bad day, it can lift me up. Music takes me to another place and time, music can bring back memories, good, bad, happy and sad. Music is life! I can’t imagine life without it. Sometimes music says more and expresses my feelings better than I ever could
WHAT IS YOUR FIRST MUSIC RELATED MEMORY?
Church. When I think about my first memories of music I think of singing “Jesus loves the little children” in church. I also think of my sisters’ record collections ranging from Michael Jackson to Men at Work to Sting and the Police and of course Rick James. I think of Ann Murray because my mom always played her music.
I remember the kitchen being filled with men smoking and drinking budweiser while my dad played his guitar. It was usually some Johnny Cash or Marty Robbins.
WHAT’S THE FIRST ALBUM YOU’VE PURCHASED YOURSELF?
Hmmm I can’t say I remember the first album. I know my first concert was Debbie Gibson and I definitely had her cassette tape, Out of the Blue. I also remember recording song off the radio when I was little.
WHAT IS THE LATEST MUSIC YOU’VE PURCHASED? (NO ONLINE STREAMING OR FREE DOWNLOADS, I’M TALKING ABOUT CASH HERE!)
I’m not sure the last CD I purchased, but for Christmas my son bought me India Arie’s Christmas Album. I wanted to buy it because I wanted the actual album but couldn’t find it. My son found the very last copy in the state and gave it to me for Christmas. That made it that much more special.
WHAT SONG DID YOU LISTEN TO LAST? (NO CHEATING, COME OUT WITH THE DIRTY PLEASURES!
J. Cole – Wet Dreamz
AND THE NOMINEES FOR THE MUSIC AND WORDS AWARD GO TO…
I’ve been getting the message of being your own best friend a lot lately, from all different places. It’s like the universe is sending me signs. One of these signs came from Afrika Bohemian of Tribe 53’s post called UHURU THURSDAYS: WOMBMAN OWN YOURSELF! She had been inspired by a post Tikeetha from A Thomas Point of View did called It’s About Time. They were both inspired by my post Loving Me where I wrote myself a love letter. They weren’t the only ones because Josie over at Mindjobusiness.com also wrote a love letter to herself inspired by my post which she calls Why I Love Josie. And the best part is this was all inspired by Just Plain Ol’ Vic post Food for Thought. Who knew this would come full circle? We just knew we all had a common goal of spreading the love.
Lately I have not been in the mood to blog much and mostly because I needed to write for me. No one else. Just me.
My heart feels heavy lately. Like I’m on the verge of tears one minute and angry the next. The continuous posts on Facebook and social media of Donald Trump. The fact that I have friends and family that are posting racist and hateful posts. Trying to stay open minded and let people have their opinions, but I just can’t justify the fact that people think that Trump is qualified or educated enough to run this country. I just saddens me that people I love can feel the way they feel. Can think it’s ok to judge people for the color of their skin and the way they look. This issue is bigger than Trump or any political candidate for that matter. It’s the fact that it is tearing apart this country.
I have started deleting people and taking them out of my feed because even though I can love people, I can’t agree with them or their views. To me some things are not funny but hurtful. I just can’t take any more hate. I feel like it is literally breaking my heart little by little.
I want to believe in love. I want to believe there is still good in this world. I want to believe that love can overpower fear and hate and violence. I want to believe that love wins. Love always wins.
This morning, after dropping off my son around 8 am, instead of going home to clean or go back to bed I decided to head to the beach. Although it is still chilly, only about 32 degrees this morning, the sun was shining brightly and the birds were singing. I pulled into the lot to see a few other cars, but over all it was pretty quiet. It was definitely not swimming weather yet, not that it will be until around August or September, and depending on your tolerance for cold water, it may never get quite warm enough.
I have lived here my whole life and seen this beach a million times, but this morning as I pulled in and saw the bright sun shining down, reflecting on the ocean, I felt this true appreciation for the beauty of nature. People spend millions of dollars on diamonds, furs, and other extravagant things. They spend countless hours sitting in front of the tv watching reality tv of the Kardashians and other plain, old, (somewhat) normal people who live these ridiculous lives trying to impress others and make all this money. I sat watching the waves of the ocean roll along the shore, watching the golden rays of the sun beat down on the tiny flecks of sand, seagulls flying, scavenging and gathering around and thought, all this is free! Why do people worry about all the useless material wants when nature is right here and free?
As I sat listening to the water move in and out, the sounds of the ocean and the birds, I could feel this calming peace. I sat in awe of the beauty of it all. Appreciating every sound, sight and feeling this beauty of nature brings. I felt blessed. I tried to imagine what it would be like for me to not live near the ocean. I thought about how excited I am for the summer to come. That first spring day, when even if it is a bit too cold to take off my shoes, I love to walk the beach barefoot, feeling the cold sand between my toes, beneath my soles as it conforms to my footprint, making me feel alive. The cool, gentle, ocean breeze whisking past my cheeks, breathing it all in. Anticipating that first dive into the cold, New England ocean that feels so refreshing, cleansing and invigorating. As the waves crash over my body, washing me anew. Diving into the waves, fighting against them or other times just riding the wave, going with the flow.
I used to go to the beach and go swimming, and while I was in the water I would find myself thinking of all the things I needed to do when I left. Until one day, when I realized i wasn’t enjoying the time I was swimming. I was never quite enjoying the moment. Last summer, after a painful, excruciating winter full of snow, a winter I thought would never end, I made a vow. I made a promise to myself, that I would stop trying to rush through everything and just enjoy the moment. I told myself I would enjoy the summer and the beach and I would not worry about cleaning or trivial things because I simply had all winter to clean. So I did. I spent as much time at the beach swimming, reading, writing, walking and enjoying every golden ray of sun possible. So much so, that by the time winter came I was actually ready for a break. It made me realize how much I enjoy the four seasons of the North East. How my body and mind need the winter break to hibernate, regroup and restore myself.
The seasons and weather changes here have taught me a lot in the past couple of years. Most of all they have taught me to live in each moment. I can worry about the snow, I can prepare for it to a degree, complain about it or I can enjoy being snowed in. Feeling warm and cozy on my couch, enjoying my hot cup of coffee with my journal and pen. When summer rolls around again, I can pack up my towel, blanket, sunscreen, books and journal and lie in the beach, soaking up the sun as my body sinks into the sand below. I can dive into the waves, feeling washed anew, refreshed and alive. I can stop worrying about what is to come and just simply enjoy the moment I am in, feeling blessed by nature’s simple and peaceful, calming creations.
For years I had been friends with Christopher Johnson on Facebook. It wasn’t until this past fall I actually had a chance to get together and speak with him in person. I had checked out some of his performances on youtube that he had posted and I really enjoyed his poetry and spoken word. “I want to pick your brain one day,” was the email I sent him. A month or so later we met for coffee to discuss writing and I checked out a couple of his shows over the months to come. Right around the time I met him, he told me he may be writing a play based on Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (not to be confused with The Invisible Man, totally different). I never read the book Invisible Man, but According to this article and advertisement at Broadway.com it was “Inspired by Ralph Ellison’s masterpiece novel Invisible Man, Invisible UpSouth aims to challenge the way traditional theater-going audiences think about race and humanity and how they move through the world; how one can be well-educated and still blind to the world around them.”1. I know it was written in the 50’s and addresses the issue of feeling invisible in society as a black man. Christopher had taken this play and rewritten it into a present day black man in Providence RI, along with the assistance of Vatic Kuumba.
I knew I had to catch this show Sunday because it was closing day and I had promised I would show my support, plus, I really wanted to see this show! Now, I’ve seen a few of Christopher’s shows before and I know that this man has a way with words, but I was in no way prepared for this experience.
Continue reading “Invisible Upsouth”