WordPress reminded me that it is my 5 year anniversary. Wow! 5 years! I didn’t even realize it had been that long. Thank you for those of you who have been hanging with me since the beginning as I tried to figure out my footing on this platform. I am still figuring out my footing but you’re still here with me, so thank you.
These first 6 months of 2020 is nothing like what I had planned for as the year began. Social and economical chaos has been served up regularly all year and I am exhausted by it. Humanity has been anything but humane, especially this year. America’s skirt has been snatched and all of her personal business is exposed. Saddening. Instead of cleaning up her business and making herself presentable, America is choosing to flaunt her ratchetness for all of the world to see.
What I want for the remainder of 2020, is for people to recognize that we all have our own perspectives of life based on our experiences. Unfortunately too many experiences are created by hateful individuals who feel like they have the right to dictate where someone may live, shop, walk or jog based on their skin color.
Those individuals are suffering from low self-esteem. Classic bully syndrome. Those individuals need to be checked – HARD. To let them understand that they do not own ANYONE nor do they have sole dominion over this country. Only collectively can we survive this cesspool of chaos we are currently in by using common sense and a sense of community. How else do you think the wealthy will take us seriously? Those of us who are not wealthy are the majority and when we unite we can change the direction of things. There is power in numbers and in unity.
During my early college years I studied about educators and psychologists who had similar lines of thought – that each individual’s primary goal in life is to reach the pinnacle of self-actualization. You know, that moment of clarity where you understand the purpose of your life and your role as a part of the collective called humanity. Each person’s subconscious desire is to reach this nirvana of understanding within us.
I spent the last two weeks grappling with understanding what I was witnessing in real time. Murder, mayhem and lies broadcast far and wide. George Floyd was murdered. By law enforcement. Nothing can justify that. The collective of law enforcement had refused to even arrest the officers involved – that is – until massive amounts of people spoke out about it. Murder. And law enforcement shrugged like – eh, it happens.
So the first amendment allows for freedom of speech and the freedom to peacefully assemble. So the people did just that. Assembled peacefully. Law enforcement took to the protests as though it were a war cry and suited up in military-grade tactical gear (wait, where’d the money for the upgrades come from when there’s no money for education?) complete with tear gas, shields, batons, rubber bullets and fireworks. Yes, they were shooting fireworks at people!
Agitators were sent in to disrupt the protests (which spilled across the nation from coast to coast), pallets of loose bricks were left in plain view (and not near any construction or demolition sites), and police used their bikes, batons, horses and cars to assault protestors. Even the reporters felt the attacks. One reporter was shot in the face with a rubber bullet and lost her vision in one eye. Several protestors from across the nation decided to form a group for those who lost an eye from being shot with rubber bullets (as of 6/9/20 there were at least 8 who had found each other on Twitter).
The devastation caused by gross abuse of power is a major and deadly deterrent to achieving self-actualization. How can we become our best versions of ourselves under the domestic terrorism of our law enforcement whose sole purpose is supposed to be to protect and serve the public?
As I celebrate my new year, a return to my sun rising, many are mourning loss. And as I empathize with the pain, I already understand the importance of showing love to those you love everyday because you don’t know when the last time you see them is the last time you see them. So for those you love, make the time to see them. Make the time to call them. Make the time to tell them how you feel or clear up any misunderstandings. Time is precious and stops for no one.
That is why for my birthday this year I chose to do something just for me. My birthday has been like a rose bush for me, pretty but painful, for too long. The short version – my father never bothered to remember my birthday, ever. He remembered my brother’s birthday which is 2 days after mine. From 1987 on I do not recall one birthday call. So my birthdays have always been bittersweet…
Fast forward to 2020. My birthday has returned, the bitter has lessened and the sweet is increasing and for those who choose not to see – well, it’s their loss not mine. Our time in these bodies are not infinite. So I choose to walk into my new decade, into my new season, leaving any and every thing behind who does not honor or cherish me as the divine being that I am. I am here on purpose and for a purpose.
I revisited my original blog I started 13 years ago and feeling nostalgic, started posting again. Well, tonight I was inspired by another poet and wrote, Thank You on my other blog. Check it out and leave a comment below.
First, I have to apologize to you. I have exposed us to years of unnecessary heartache and pain through allowing your innocent vulnerabilities to be taken advantage of. You are a loving and powerful woman. I did not trust you enough to allow you to spread your wings and grow. My fears kept you bound to those who could not give you what you needed and deserved to fly.
My fears kept me from believing there was anything better for you out in the world. You deserve the world. Your smile cheers up those you share it with and you share freely even when you are crumbling inside and I appreciate that. I love you for that.
You put others before yourself when they are in need. You give even when you are in need. You are fiercely loyal to those you love, even when they hurt you deeply. And when you want to retreat and heal I have interfered, and for that I am sorry. When you needed to sever ties and heal your heart I interfered and for that I am sorry.
Even in pain you still emit a celestial beauty through your writings. Everytime I read your poetry I feel your memories and cry your tears. Thank you for sharing your words, not only with me but with the rest of the world.
Continue to shine your brightest light because I need it. I thank you for being the woman you are.
I have set a release date for my new collection of poetry, Reflections: Past, Present, Future. This collection is scheduled for June, 2018 and I am nervous and excited.
In this new collection I explore the underlying influences that led to my relationship experiences that I wrote about in my first collection, Entangled Hearts.
Many women are tired of falling for the wrong guy time and again. Falling in love with the potential of who he can become instead of looking at who he is. Ignoring our instincts when they warn us that something is wrong. What we don’t do, many times, is stop and reflect on WHY we ignore those warnings. WHY do we fall in love with potential rather than investigate the facts?
In Reflections I stop and do just that. Reflect. What is the underlying reason why I allowed sub-par love into my life? Why was I willing to give 1000% in exchange for a luke-warm 25% at best? One day I woke up and stopped trying to adjust the math.
As women, we are the cornerstone of civilization. Fellas you’re not being discounted – keep reading. Ladies, we have the biggest influence over life, it grows within us. Life flows out of us. We are designed for it. It is time we sat down in a quiet place, grabbed our tea or coffee and reflect on why we allow the negative relationships in our lives. Once we understand the WHY we can create a correction plan.
The countdown to Reflections has begun. Are you ready?
I’m sitting in a McDonald’s eating breakfast before heading into my day job and I start flipping through a notebook I keep in my purse.
Skimming old notes my phone rings and it’s a caregiver. My first thought was, oh damn what now? Gratefully she was letting me know she worked out a situation she had brought to our attention on Friday. Huge sigh this Monday morning.
Returning to the pages I had begun to peruse, I came across a poem I wrote two months ago, currently untitled:
Good morning. *Yawn, stretch, rubs tired eyes* Yesterday my baby girl turned three years old! Her nanna had bought her a pretty pink princess dress with matching princess shoes and she had been waiting patiently (or as patiently as a two year old can) for two months to wear them. “You have to wait until your birthday comes to wear your princess dress,” I had to remind her – at least once a week. Yesterday was the day. She woke up ready. Came downstairs, ate her breakfast and once she finished she dashed back upstairs to put on her princess dress. Princess Yehudi proceeded to enjoy the rest of her birthday in style…
Three years is a long time. And Yehudi has grown – a lot. I didn’t realize how fast she was beginning to develop her own personality so fast. I should have took notes when I was pregnant with her because she had her own mind, even then. In the womb she was bossy. Dictated what I would eat and when. Dominated my sleep patterns and positions. Physically assaulted my ribs from the inside, hahaha. I can laugh now but I wasn’t laughing then. We didn’t want to know her gender until she was born so everyone tried guessing based on the shape and positioning of my stomach. Even strangers waiting at red lights stopped to yell across the street and predict what gender baby I was carrying. She had fun tricking people. She even dictated my delivery.
When I went into labor it was normal for my fifth child. Contractions began speeding up in frequency and intensity while my body aches increased dramatically. By the time we arrived at the hospital I had enough strength to walk in and sit down in the first wheelchair that was within reach. Anticipating the cooling relief of an epidural my daughter played one her final jokes before arriving. While lying on the labor room bed and waiting for my epidural this little lady decides to karate kick my water bag AND dilate my cervix to the full 10 centimeters! Yup, no epidural for me. Then she practically delivered herself because she wasn’t waiting for anybody. Luckily the nurses were there to “catch” her as she, for her final joke before birth, showed me what the ring of fire really meant. Heh, Heh. Again, I can laugh now but I wasn’t laughing then.
She is definitely her own person. And that makes me smile sometimes. Other times it causes mounds of frustration because she doesn’t want to do what she has to do or what she is told to do. I see her laughing and blazing her own trails as a beautiful young woman and I pray I have the fortitude to allow her the flexibility to do so.