Saturday, April 30, 2011

Is it Worth It?

A dream, a sightings , a vision, a premonition, a prophecy, a prediction, a forecast, a wish on a shooting star,  a hope, an idea, a prayer, all quite similar. What's the difference if any? Like the rain cleanses the earth and provides an open door to the possibilities of growth and life. So do the tears on the your pillow, soaking your face and making it hard to breathe. Dreams are made from the stuff. Hopes aspirations wishes all the above.
I close my eyes and I think of all the many dreams I've dreamt and the due diligence it took to manifest them. I remember embellishing my resume, applying for job after job, plowing the pavement daily in heels seeking and searching for a suitable apartment, studying until the wee hours of the night for entrance exams into colleges, then working my behind off to graduate with honors, lugging my pregnant body to Lamaze classes, enduring countless hours of labor twice and in the very end it was all so worth it.
Sometimes I feel low and I hang my head way way down where no one else can see me. If I could get under the floor I would do that too , just like an Ostrage. I get discouraged and want to feel bad for myself and the"mess" of the life I've created. I cry and cry and cry some more. Don't let a sad song come on, that's it, wake up with swollen eyes. People ask me are you OK, and I respond yeah! Why? Don't I look cute? Is my mask crooked, my cover up fading, my slip showing, my true self illuminating through the plastic bag with a hole in the bottom phony "fine" response I gave you. I think to myself that you don't really wanna know whats "wrong" with me.  Or what turmoil I'm living through to get to my destiny. Some days I suffer ALL day long just to lay in bed at night and be tormented the more. It may be to heavy for you to carry along with your own stuff so I keep it light for you and give a safe none sincere response. No since talking about something that will be a distant memory tomorrow. You see all
 my dreams, my sightings, my visions, my premonitions, the prophecies I've received, forecast all of my wishes on shooting stars, prayers, hopes, and ideas will indeed come to pass.
If you are anything like me and you have the type of journey that makes you cry, buckles your knees, clench your fists, gasps in horror,  scream if your mad enough and search the four corners of your mind to figure something out, anything out, make a way out of no possible way. I applaud you , because we are in training. On the battle field if you will. Chills run through my body as I type this, confirmation. Take a deep breath, breath back into your own body and hear my voice in the sound of your own voice crystal clearly. You are much closer than you realize! Hold on! It won't be much longer now! When someone asks you how are you, do like I do , continue to say Fine. You can even say Fantastic! Speak it into existence, because before you know it you will be looking in the mirror of your bathroom in your brand new home, you will be fastening your children's seat belts in your brand new car, you will be accepting a diploma from the President of your school whom is honored to meet your acquaintance. Hold on! Soon you will purchase your groceries and the women's behind you next in line, pay your bills six months in advance, have the special gathering in your backyard as you smile nestled comfortably in your husbands arms, swinging together on your patio deck sipping an icy beverage over looking the pool, festivities and fun. Tastes so sweet!  SOON! We will say it was so worth it! Hold on.
God Bless You
Thank You for Reading

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Family Bunion

Some things are common and particularly relative to a group, gender, race, or family. We joke about them, loathe them or even suffer do to their effects. In my family most of the women develop what we call the family bunion. Its not the prettiest I must say, an can be painful in the wrong shoe. However its a bonding experience between the women. We can relate an understand one another and the desire to have a seat with out judgement or ridicule.We laugh about our family bunions and compliment the shoes we are wearing knowing that its making the concern chronically worse. Does that  make sense? I don't think so, especially considering that we(women) dress to impress one another.
I have made it a point to purchase shoes that don't hurt my feet and that are no more that 3 inches high. I have my special occasion shoes but  I am not expected to run around the city in them for 5-8 hours at a time with a plastic smile like nothings wrong. Uh huh my feet hurt and I am a mess. No More. If you have a family bunion I encourage you to save yourself . Your fellow partners in crime will be sure to follow suit. You can find shoes just as cute offered in lower heel heights. Google search them out.
The family bunion won't go away but it won't get any bigger and you won't feel its presence every step of your day.You can smile again from within, find new and more self esteem building ways to bond with your family and your girls.Who knows you may even start a new trend for future generations!
Long live the Walton's, Jones', Moore's, Washington's, Nichols',Lassiter's, Celestine's, and insert your last name here!
God Bless You

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Deep Breath

As a writer I find it imperatively important to be honest. I have come into the understanding that we all endure trauma an a treatment for the torture that comes with the shame and anxiety is sharing with like minded others. People that have walked a mile in your shoes and can understand your brokenness. I pray my children will never be able to fully understand the reason my eyes get watery at the beginning of a Stevie Wonder song or why I roll my eyes when I see a mechanic dressed in a grease stained navy blue overall uniform with his name stitched on the front. Some of my posting may be too heavy to disguise or more than you bargained for as a reader. I understand. Feel free to walk away from my truth at your leisure, but before you go know that just because you close your eyes, bow your head or turn and walk away it does nothing to the reality.
I love to listen to piano solo's as I write . Writing's are also a piece of music to my ears. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by the piece I begin to cry. Have you ever cried out loud to a song? Did it make you think of that special someone, or not so special someone? I feel my heart beat slow down, grow two sizes to big for my chest cavity and weight 5 pounds. It's funny how music can do that to you. Remind you of a time when...I am reminded of a time when I was 9 years old. Just thinking about being nine makes me cry. I would forever be changed, my life would be completely different in every single way. I would be a knowing little girl. To know better is to do better , however if you know something before your scheduled to it can prove catastrophic. Speed you up even, especially as a child.
 I was much like I am today. A peoples person, warm, funny, loving, talented in several ways and a dreamer. Back then I didn't think much about boys or how my body appealed to them. I knew my Auntie was a beautician and I went to her shop every Saturday to get my hair done. A press and curl. It was the most stressful forty-five minutes. Holding my ears down to avoid third degree burns and sitting as still as a statue, just to get burned anyway by the steam and cause an uproar in the entire salon. Funny now when I think about it. I would jump out of that chair with the cape on screaming and crying holding the side of my head shouting "YOU BURNED MEEEEEE!!!!" My aunt would reply, "Oh child that wasn't nothing but the steam from the hot comb. Come sit your behind back in this chair so I can finish your hair." It was what little girls were supposed to do.
I had a close group of friends, play cousins and classmates. We would sing songs, pretend to be the girls in the groups practice the latest dance moves , have sleep overs where no one slept. I loved to run in the open fields, roll down the hill until I was all itchy and covered in grass stains. Compete to see who could swing the highest. Celebrate our first pubic hair and the interesting lumps developing under our chest. Mine had a very relaxed approach. I thought they'd never show up. We would play board games and have girl talk.We would discuss our plans for our futures. How we were doing in our classes and who was cute.
During one of our girl talks I had a topic of conversation none of us should ever have had to discuss. You see my school had  implemented a "Family Life" program, this program was designed to educate us on our developing bodies, menstruation, the male anatomy, sex and pregnancy. During this class some of the images were all too familiar to me and I was not as surprised as the other little girls. I was surprised to find out that my mother's mechanic boyfriend placing his erect penis and hands in between my thighs was very wrong unlike what he'd told me and I should only be doing these things with someone I loved as an adult. The program was very clear and described molestation, and incest quite clearly. I sunk a little lower into my seat. My eyes had been opened. I was ashamed. The facilitator instructed us to notify an adult if we or someone we know has been molested or raped. She also cautioned us that the pedophiles are usually the ones we trust and not lurking in the shadow's of back alley's at night. My friends hugged me and cried with me. They promised not to tell and wondered when I was going to tell. I didn't know when.I was afraid my mother would be so mad at me and what I was doing while she was at work. He told me she would be furious and not believe me. I hated what he was doing to me and he was starting to hurt me physically, he was becoming ever the more aroused by my submission and now trying to penetrate my 9 year old 65 pound body.
I would wait for mommy to be in a good mood. Wow, I remember thinking this thought like it was yesterday. I had no idea that her good mood would come so soon.
I called her into my room, it was late in the evening and close to bedtime. I sat on my top bunk and looked down at my mother's beautiful smiling face and unsuspecting eyes. I thought maybe tomorrow would be better. My mother noticing my hesitation gently held my hand. "Yes baby?" I began to quiver. "Mommy I have something to tell you" I continued. "Tony has been touching on me.""What do you mean touching on you?""Touching on me...down there and the other day there was this snot thing on the bed when he got off of me."I said. My mother took me off of the top bunk picked me up and squeezed me tightly we began to sob. She looked me in the face and asked me ever so sincerely from her heart with her face soaked with tears as one dripped from her chin, "Why didn't you tell me?" I shrugged my shoulders and said"I thought  you'd be mad at me.
ohhh nooo baby" in a sing song tone. "I'm so happy you told me."She rocked me, I was her baby.
The next morning before school a white, chubby, balding male detective was in my apartment asking me questions. This was the beginning of my resiliency.
Share your struggles with the people you know the young women you come in contact with. Take them by the hand and say you are not your past you are stronger for it and you can decide to be the best you! Make who you are shine like the sun. Take a deep breath and connect with you on the inside. Make her greater. Educate yourself, walk for the March of Dimes, Donate to the Susan G. Kowen Foundation. Love on yourself by caring for yourself.
I love you, Keep reading
God Bless You.

Friday, April 1, 2011

In an instant. There are several things that are instant. Unfortunately one could be in a car crash and be killed in an instant. You have instant coffee, instant oatmeal, instant breakfast. Then you have the almost instant's , like things that are transformed in a minute or less. Say for instance minute rice or someone obtaining over night success. The critically acclaimed...sensation! I love it! Before you know it your asking yourself whatever happened to so&so?, Here today gone tomorrow, no foundation.
 For things that are not as physical and more metaphysical Mother Oprah has coined the term"aha moments", this means that all of a sudden "it", whatever "it" was hit you and you got it, just like that, in an instant. She also expresses that there are stages of the "aha" moment and that one is never without warning, in the interim of your aha moment it may lightly graze you on the shoulder, the next time it may give you a shove, next a trip landing you on your behind, until it hits you and you get it. One young woman slammed her car into a brick wall as she was texting while driving; she discussed while visiting the Oprah Show. This thing is building daily until it is so clear that you can no longer deny it and say "aha" I've got it now! For her it came with a totaled vehicle, lengthy stay in the hospital, stitches, broken bones, physical therapy and a suspended drivers licences. The funny thing about getting something is you have to maintain it, and your level of thinking to keep it. You have to work, to practice "being" a certain way. The way you desire to experience and enjoy your time here. Reprogram, rearrange, redirect, disengage, love, love from a distance, embrace, withhold, forgive, rewrite, recite, ignite, take action, move, plan, prepare, envision, speak positively, focus, pray.
How enchanting it would be if everything were instant? You could zip through life unscaved and more the merrier for it. Any and everything you could have ever hoped or dreamed of is attainable NOW! No anticipation, no wait, no worry, no sigh of relief. Remember the movie Click with Adam Sandler? If not rent it immediately a must see! Watch it with someone you love. Personally instant living is no way to live at all. You miss the best parts. The triumph comes with the trial. The testimony come with the test! You can have whatever you want by the way, by asking for it, your Heavenly Father is generous. The word of God says, "we have not because we ask not". "If my people would humble themselves and pray".
  A toddlers joy after struggling for days, weeks and months , tears staining their papers and endless eraser reside insured to write their own name is meet after all the agony self doubt can bring with the heart racing, lip biting, sweaty palms and brow moment of victory when they get it right. Do you remember when you wrote your name for the very first time? If not ask your parents, grandparents, older sibling etc. It was fascinating I'm sure!
Lets face it we just no way no how can have everything in an instant. It's easy to deny ourselves certain luxury pieces like the latest in handbags or shoes, designer threads or luxury vehicles. There are companies that will rent you the runway, but who wants to have a beautiful designer dress that they can only wear once for the price of a brand new dress that they can keep and wear multiple times and occasions? Clearly several people do because this is a very popular website.  Not exactly my cup of tea. If you don't have the cash and or credit you simply can not make a withdrawal. Yes you can be ever so patient, careful with your spending and save to reach your goals, sacrificing every chance you get and cut corners, but there is work involved in this option.  When you work you get a reward. I spend a heavy portion of my week thinking about this blog and how I can keep the content true to form. How I can continually and intentionally relate the experiences of life to fashion. Sometimes I'm dead on and other times not so much, please bear with me. The point I'm making here today is that instant isn't "better" per-say. Instance has its place, like everything else. When your 16 you want to be 21 and when your 48 you want to be 16 again, with your 48 year old body of knowledge of course! Everything evolves but at its own rate. This instant is only now and that's all it will ever be. It will never be sooner nor later.
Thank You For Reading
God Bless You