My Christmas Within Or Ways I Stay Alive During This Holy Season

In my life I have learned a few survival skills. The kind of skills that override my depression keeping me squarely on the planet for at least another day. I am a day-by-day woman. Yes, I make plans and I stay hopeful about the future with me in it. However, my struggles are day-to-day shit. Wrestling with despair, fear and self worth. I am without a doubt my own assassin. The key to surviving this Season is to recognize the pain immediately. To call it what it is. No excuses. No explaining away and going easy on self medicating.

It's Christmas! My absolute favorite holiday. Bright lights, vegan gingerbread, shiny ornaments, soulful music, celtic music, latin Christmas Jazz, Christmas Smooth Jazz, all the varieties of vegan eggnog and wishing everyone I meet Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Outwardly you cannot see the pain, unless of course you recognize the weight that I carry. I am a woman of height and girth, who on first glance is quite jovial in my own right. So most folks never notice the sadness, the distance, the falling backwards into the well.  Not even really close friends and family readily notice. I mask well. I unmask well too.

Writing is my first line of defense. If I can write what I am feeling. Tell the God's honest truth as best I can. That is often just enough to right my world. The second line of defense is to go do something. Be of service, or be reflective in the places that ease my spirit, like bookstores and art galleries and art supply stores and furniture stores. Yes, I do my best reflecting and discerning when I am roaming furniture stores. I can't tell you how light my heart gets when I am staring at a beautifully made sofa, or handling fine china. I am tactile too, so having my senses engaged as I am rescuing myself is key. A fine cup of coffee, or some exotic tea and vegan scones or some vegan treat. A few hours of that I am right as rain.

The third defense is allowing the tears to flow. Calling a trusted loved one, my sister Lo. Or a handful of friends who will listen and remind me of who I am and what I mean to them. Sometimes it's hanging out on a Tuesday with my Squad, because I need grown women time... Time to talk shit, laugh and be real baddass. Followed by a good nap in the buff... totally nude. Me and the fine linens of my bed. And sometimes some sappy over the top movie.

All these defenses begin with prayer. Followed by sitting a bit in silence. Listening for direction. Clarity always comes.

For me Christmas is its own saving grace. The story of a holy birth, the star in the heavens. The telling and the retelling of this ancient story. I take it in. I am not moved by presents. I happily sit and address my holiday cards. Like prayer. At least 100+ cards with a hand written message of "I hope to see more of you" "wishing you great joy" "Enjoy this glorious season" Always, Love Babz.

I have learned that I am the savior of me. If I am the assassin of me. I certainly can be my savior. And that is how I survive this life. I decide who I want to be to myself.

NaBloWriMo Day 29 Advent : Season of Wishing and Waiting

I believe in Santa Claus! I love Christmas! I love the story of the birth of Jesus!

I revel in the lights on trees and candles in the windows. Sleigh bells and Angels on high! I love luminaries lining sidewalks and sparkly ornaments everywhere!

It is the season of Wishing and Waiting... Advent. The Rush Rush Rush of the season and the hush hush hush of all things not in tune with good cheer. Peace on earth. Glad tidings.

It is the the time of the year that my wishing takes center stage. The biggest of biggest dreams and wants are allowed expression. Merry Christmas! I want everything! I want every good thing.  I can feel the waiting and anticipation of the child who comes to save and care and restore our faith in God and in each other. Love is so prevalent and so patient and so giving. I feel like Mother Mary. I feel like those three Wise men traveling by the light of the moon and that North Star.

I am my most hopeful and most reverential at Advent. All things are possible in this season of light and anticipation. I know a lot of folks have a very difficult time with this time of year... Seasonal change... Darker days earlier.... And too much jolly ho ho. My heart aches for them and I try to be mindful about my good cheer heaped upon them. I am not in the convincing business. I've learned not to try to talk folks into merry merry happy happy. What I can do is allow my light to be available should someone need it.

I know what it's like to be alone and in darkness... At the bottom of the well, with no way to get out. This time of year is my way out. It is my ladder. The crisp air, bright lights and carols lift me. Prayers of peace and glad tidings lifts me. The bright moon and bright stars lighting up the heavens lifts me.

I wish for so much. I wish for every good thing. I wish for peace everywhere. I wish for more love, more joy and more dessert! I take my wishing seriously. I am purposeful in my wishing. Wishing is not some frivolous escape. Wishing are unspoken possibilities of the grandest hoped for things.

In this season of wishing and waiting, I marry my faith with my sense of whimsy. Making this time joyous and magical. God is ever present and ever listening.

Happy Holidays!

NaBloPoMo Day 16: Time To Reinvent Me ....Next Level Of Baddass

It is time to usher in a new way of being. After all the changes in my grand life, I am always stunned when I forget that when I am in the midst of real change that it often feels like losing. And so I focus on the losing. I get caught up in the pain of not being able to work things out my way. Time and time again God has to remind me that this is not the path fool. Let go. LET GO! Let God!

I am about to upend my life for the bigger plan. The unknown terrain. It is time to walk in an entirely new direction. My life is calling for change. My situation is calling for change. God is calling me toward change. Time to reinvent me and go for the next level of Baddass!

This really is another moment of ascension to achieving my dreams. The day-to-day minutia easily distracts me from the greater goals. It is so easy to be consumed by the small bullshit of the mundane. I believe that is where failure lives... Sitting and waiting for me to get bogged down in things that serve no purpose and certainly do not move me forward.

However this time, I see the way forward much more clearly. And it's because of the circle of folks who remind me of my greatness. And yes, I mean my greatness. Their seeing my greatness, presses me to see my greatness. I am embracing this new chapter. A chapter I get to craft in celebration and joy and mystery.

I am so unafraid. I am so embracing what is next. It is time to reinvent myself yet again as I walk bravely toward the next level of my season of baddass.

NaBloPoMo Day 15: Let Us Begin by Lara Herscovitch

I heard Lara Herscovitch tonight at the Community Conversation hosted by my Sorority, New Haven Alumnae Chapter, Delta Sigma Theta, Inc. She gifted me 2 of her CDs. She is so fabulously good.

Just drink her in.

NaBloPoMo Day 14: Safe Spaces to Cry

I have come to value all the safe places I have to cry in. All the places and people who open wide and let me fall into them with my tears. I have not always had that luxury. And I have never known this level of safety. It is a beautiful thing.  One that I am deeply grateful for.

In order to fall into safe spaces to cry you have to be willing to cry. You have to be willing to abandon ego, posturing, judgment and shame. I have learned in my life that I cannot hold grief, disappointment, heartache and despair in this body. Tears does a body good. I can attest to that.

Today I had a moment when I looked away from what I was doing to gaze jealously at someone else's gain. My pettiness got the better of me... All I could see was their success and my failures. As soon as I opened the door, the devil rushed in. Self doubt took over and within minutes I had reduced myself to failure, loser, stupid, and lackluster. I went in on myself like an assassin. Breaking my own spirit. Wallowing in my own self pity. I was willingly walking into despair.

My partnership with God is such that, he reminds me to call for a lifeline. Call one of the many folks I put upon your path he says. You are not alone. Call who I have sent to be of service to you. Call them. Call them and tell them you need them in these dark moments. I called.

It is always amazing to me the grace I am afforded. The friends that stand in the gaps for me. Dry my tears and feed me with their love and kindness. I could not have come this far without God's design of eclectic soul mates in my life.

The spaces I can cry in are sacred and holy and wide open for me. And believe me, I thank God all the time for that kindness.

To the safe places I am invited to dwell, I am grateful. To the divine soul mates who answer my calls when I am in despair and or celebration, I thank you so much. You make me better.

NaBloPoMo Day 13: Finally Accepting

I believe in the power of spell casting... Casting spells...Saying out loud under any moon this is what I want.  And believing that it shall come to pass. I just believe God has my back. I walk the earth knowing this without doubt. The Universe is conspiring to give me what I desire.

It is no secret that poetry is always dripping from my lips and good love stories are always in my heart. Love is the question and the answer. Love Is.

I remember in the early days of this blog all the lamenting over the ending of my marriage. And then the lamenting of never finding love. And then finding love. Then finding out that it wasn't love but gas-lighting and bullshit. Ugh, and all the failed love affairs and all the lessons learned thereafter.

I am squarely in my own space now... Owning my heart and mind as a grown-up woman. I am speaking kindly to myself. I am not lamenting anything. I am using my spell casting to strengthen my steps as I support others guided by the light of my smile.  I remind myself that I am a daughter of fortune... A woman of heart and mind, possessing great capacity to love and be loved.

I guess what I am saying is, I'm done with looking at what's missing in my life. Done in the sense of whatever is lacking isn't really true at all. Like today, I was out with a sorority sister all afternoon. We laughed, we talked deeply, we gossiped a bit, we had fancy cocktails and interesting beers and yummy food and we saw a beautiful film, followed by more discussion and fancy cocktails. And we laughed a great deal more. See, I need this in my life. Holy and sacred friendships that make my life better. I can no longer manage some man's expectation of me. Men who like the idea of a magical woman, but can't really abide a magical woman in their everyday practical life.

There is a great deal of peace with fully understanding what you need, want,

require and are willing to do in any relationship... I am standing in that awareness in ways I've never have before. I am making peace with aloneness. I am making peace with letting go of wasteful wishing. I am making peace with me as is.

Look for me under the super moon with fancy paper and pen in hand. Writing to my heart's content in words that heal, uplift and conjure up sacred connection. This means that I open wider to the things that are meant for me. This means that the words I speak become prayers and songs and poems; and the one who hears them will be the one they are for.  I am without question a particular kind of woman for a particular kind of soulmate. This is the truth I am now finally accepting.

NaBoPoMo Day 11: Because Day 10 Was Done

The day got away from me yesterday. I just couldn't make anything work. Well, one thing did work...A sacred conversation I had with a new Soul mate! But other than that, the day ran me!

Today was another run run run with the wolves kind of day. I ran with the day, not against it. There is a difference. Today I feel somewhat prepared... At least I stayed on mission. I had goals and I championed them. I felt accomplished with some amount of control over my destiny. Yeah, that's a lot to put on a day... But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

So, I am going to bask in this accomplishment and good feeling. Back at you tomorrow!

NaBloPoMo Day 9 My Holy Hours

I do my best thinking around 3-5:00 am. I've talked about this before. Muslims say this is the time you are closest to God. I would have to agree. I feel my most holiest then. As a matter of fact, I like making love at that hour... I feel the most holiest then. (Actually I could make love and feel holy at any time). It is the thinking and the soul searching I am trying to get at in this post.

In my part of the world well before dawn it is so quiet I can hear my heartbeat. I can hear my own breathing. That circadian rhythm is a real thing.  In these sacred hours the answers to whatever I am lamenting becomes quite clear. The truth of things, situations, and problems show up that did not exist in my waking hours.  Truth shows up with stark clarity that I can neither ignore or bypass.

Truth is the rock on which I build my life these days. I have long since given up the messiness of lies and double meanings and coyness and unavailability. I trust until I no longer can. The wee hours is nothing but a space for truth... Be it problem solving or making love. There is no room or opportunity for pretense. This is the hour of God. I fully welcome and embrace its sacredness.

For as long as I can remember I have awaken at 3:00 am. Then back to sleep at 5:00 am if I didn't have some commitment shortly after (throughout my life of studying, baby, children, briefs, campaigns, syllabus, marriage, doomed relationships, bootcamp).  It is a habit I don't want to break. It grounds me. It strengthens me. It is time  that nothing interrupts. I don't even look for comparable time in my waking hours. In the course of my day it is a sprint from pillar to post... Nonstop readiness of being here, there and everywhere.

Sometimes I get up and saunter downstairs to my desktop and write until daybreak. Sometimes I sit with a cup of fresh coffee, and on my birthday I have a glass of champagne... Decadent yes.  I am my best illuminated self in those hours. I do not try to replicate them at any other time. Yes, I am authentic in my waking hours. I am soulful and mindful and joyous. But my experiences in the early part of the day are profoundly holy in ways that aren't noticeable at any other time. I have learned this by looking for it and not finding it as sweet or as enveloping.

My holy hours are where God and I meet-up. Sometimes I pray and God listens. Sometimes I am silent and God speaks. 

NaBloMoPo Day 8: Go Easy, Baby

Tonight is the night. We are all waiting for the results. Shit could go awry and we'd all be left shaking in our boots. Wondering what the fuck just happened?... Not unlike our peeps across the pond on that crazy Brexit shit tip. I'm keeping the faith though. America manages to rise to her better angels on occasion. and now is the occasion. It is time America to play to your better valor.

I am a political junkie from way back. I've worked on some great campaigns... Even ran for public office myself, and won...Twice. Not to mention serving on high profile boards and commissions and committees and a host of cool and challenging nonprofit gigs. But that was all before the crash and burn. I no longer say the "Fall from Grace" what had happened was... I fell to God. A God that I was already intimately familiar with, but kept pushing aside. But this ain't about that life. My point is, I know my way around political shit.

Back to the election tonight... It is my whole belief that I will wake up and Hilary Clinton will be our President. Yes, I believe good trumps evil. It is the basis for every great fairy tale. It is the stuff of legends. I just feel like she has won. America does not need a Trump.

It is hard to walk easy when there is anxiety. So much on the line. The hate talk is so palpable. Just today someone walk in form of my car and then had the never to say "nigger", so I said "FUCK YOU mutherfucker". Because, what?

Invite you to walk easy, baby. I gotta steal a phrase from the Red Witch on Game of Thrones... The Night is Long and Filled with Terrors. We'll know the answer soon enough. But this is a real lesson. We've got to do elections differently. We've got to pay attention to language and rhetoric. We've got to get out front on hate speech that passes as election speech. It ain't. The mainstream press, and the right-wing press has lead the ignorant down the garden path and no one stopped it, or screamed Hey! Don't go! So we find ourselves at the precipice of a race too damn close to be real or comfortable. That's on all of us.

So I, invite you this night to walk easy, baby. I have faith that all shall be well.

NaBloPoMo Day 7: The Quietness In The Storm

I have learned in my life... After standing in storms, is to find the place of peace. To center my spirit in the midst of chaos. Some chaos can be invigorating and inspiring. Causing us to reach higher, dig deeper and rise above. And some chaos is hostile, spirit breaking and crippling. I know both kinds of storms all too well and quite recently as yesterday.

The lesson isn't to wish away storms. But to find your centered quietness as the storm swirls about you. To center yourself in grace and allow what is to come thru. Grace is code for blessings. Grace is code for God's got you. I live and breathe knowing I benefit from undeserved grace. Undeserved grace is the human self wrangling with acceptance that God could be just that good. The Divinity in me knows that God is that good all the time and that I am in deed deserving.

I am in a stormy season. As is the country... As is the world. And I can see how hard and challenging it can be to find quietness in the midst of all this noise. We live out loud in our lives. Even those who are introverts can't find refuge from all the rushing about> Everyone is talking, so much talking. Everywhere we turn we are weighed down with war, discourse, family dramas, senseless violence, and reality television and an American election season, the likes we've never seen  before.  

God has put in an escape clause for the modern world. 

Nature. The great outdoors. The big wide sky. Green grass. Flowers that bloom in every season in every climate. Nature. The sheer indulgence of going outside and looking up or looking down or just looking. Seeing beyond the cars, and the hustle and bustle of people. Outside away from TVs and smart phones and all manner of connecting gadgets.

Museums. The great indoors. The Classics. The Contemporaries. The Modern. The abstract. Art that stretches the imagination. Art that centers the soul. Art that demands us to be civilized and refined and calm and eager and open.

Music. The sounds that take us back and move us forward. Music that lays us low and lifts us high. Lullaby's for rest and acid rock for head banging. Jazz for sophistication.  Music of the earth, created by the indigenous peoples of the world. Music that makes you dance and swing and sway. Music that reminds you where you've been and where you're going.

Food. The coming together to eat and to experience universal hospitality. To dig in. To ring the bell for chow! To gather together in prayer and communion. To eat.To prepare and share.

God has given us ways in which to replenish our spirits. To not only wait out the storm, but to provide us with safe passage. To find peace and quiet in the most treacherous of moments. 

 

NaBloPoMo Day 6: Corinne Bailey Rae - Green Aphrodisiac (Official Video)

I'm a woman of music. I believe in the power of having a  soundtrack for my life. I've been a fan of hers since the beginning. I dig this song. It is sexy and soulful and sensual. Perfect for a slow Sunday afternoon. Happy Sunday fellow bloggers! Walk easy beautiful people.

NaBloPoMo Day 5: Dreams Not Chasing At The Moment Or I'm always Chasing These Dreams

This is always a veiled way to tell the truth of what is in your soul without making the effort to go after those very desires. Because some dreams are just dreams... And perhaps should not be chased?

Here are a few of mine:

I'd live in Paris. Here,in any of these neighborhoods:
Montmartre. South Pigalle. Belleville-Menilmontant. Oberkampf.
Canal Saint-Martin. Haut Marais. Montorgueil. Batignolles. Bastille.
Saint-Germaine-des-Pres

I'd own a house on Martha's Vineyard... Summers and a bit of early Fall. I'd write more there. Breathe deeper there and rest.

I'd travel to all the best wineries and vineyards in the world. Tasting and sipping and laughing and learning.

I'd dance the Argentine Tango in Argentina. (I dance the Argentine Tango here in CT) (photo is my actual Argentine Tango Teacher, he's something to watch for sure!)

Walk barefoot on the best beaches under moonlight.

Long deep kissing under moonlight with a Man who kisses back with aplomb!

Go to all of  Beyonce, Stevie Wonder, Carol King, Earth Wind & Fire, Will Downing, Indie Arie, Brenda Russell, Diana Krall, Norah Jones, Temptations, Gypsy Kings, Van Morrison, Freddy Cole Santana, Lizz Wright, Diana Ross, concerts anywhere in the world.

Paint in Provence. Catch the couture shows in Milan. Party all night in Prague. Wander the streets of Vienna.

Take the Orient Express from Paris to Istanbul.

Live in a Riad in Morocco.

Take morning prayers at the Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi.

Visit and pray in Jerusalem and

Sit outside of where the Ark of The Covenant is stored in Ethiopia.

Camp under the northern lights.

NaBloPoMo Day 4: The Gift Of Retreat

As a Spiritual Director, I walk with folks on their faith journey. We notice where God shows up in our lives. I do not define God for them, they do that in their own way. I just walk along holding the lamp. When we hit unsure footing, I shine the light a little closer. Nothing is ever as scary as it seems when you put some light on it. The best Ah Ha moments happen upon illumination of thoughts, and shadows, deep stirrings of the soul. Yes, it can all be quite spiritual. But sometimes it is not.

Sometimes the noise of the world is too loud and we cannot hear our own longings. The shoulds and must do's and please please please, takes over, and we find ourselves taking on just one more thing.We hold up the world. We do it for great causes. We do it because it needs to be done and we are the ones to do it. I lived by that code for a very long time.

 It is hard to wrestle with the guilt of trying to find a moment of solitude for yourself. I know, it is a constant battle that I used to lose regularly. And by lose, I mean, I wouldn't even fight back. I just grind on until, well, I drop. Seriously, I just shut down exhausted. It wasn't until I discovered the idea of Retreat...The act of giving myself back to myself in directed solitude; a bit grander than Me Time. Real untethered time, from people, places and things. Purposeful time to rejuvenate, tap within, and replenish the spirit.

This is self-care beyond the spa, and drinks with Sister-friends. (Although that is necessary too!). I am talking about contemplative time... Quietness and prayer and meditation. Being with yourself deeply and truthfully. I have spent a great deal of time searching for answers outside of myself and finding none. Retreat time allows me to go inward and listen and explore the longings of my heart. To listen... God is still speaking. To tune out the world and tune into my inner rhythms, my breathing in and breathing out.

The gift of retreat requires that you chose yourself for a period of time. It calls you to make a plan and then go and BE HERE NOW.  It is a way to reconnect yourself to every living thing on the planet and the universe.

Give yourself back to yourself. Retreat with purpose and direction. You will feel holy. Hold yourself sacred. Be still. Be quiet. And bask in the sound of your own heartbeat.

NaBloPoMo Day 3: Oh, If I Were Completely Honest...

I woke up one morning and knew that I loved him. It was an odd thought, so out of the blue. I wrestled with it for days on end....Months even. No No No! I said to myself. I can't I won't I won't. And yet I do.

I love the attentiveness. The contentedness. The way in which we chat and laugh and disagree. He is way more forgiving than I. He has way more tolerance than I. He is way more patient than I.

He makes me better. He inspires me to leap higher. To slow down when slowing down is needed. He's funny. He doesn't mind me being an occasional asshole. An occasional brat. He is not moved by my pettiness or smallness. He sees me and hears me and still applauds me.

He does not know that I think of him first. First, as in when I wake up. First, as in before I close my eyes. First, as in when some good thing happens or some sorrowful thing breaks me; it is him I want to call.  He has no idea the stirrings of my heart. He has no idea the depth of my feelings for his well being and happiness.

If I could be completely honest with no regrets, I would say, I love you, marry me. Let's live happily-ever-after!  Let's kiss and build dreams upon that kiss.

But I do not possess that kind of courage. That kind of courage escapes me in this situation. I am a woman of great courage in many areas of my life. You see, his friendship sustains me, fuels me, comforts me and prepares me for upcoming battles. There is no room for this kind of truth telling of my heart. As I am committed to walking in truth, this sacred ground cannot be disturbed. I am not a school girl harboring a school girl's crush. My friendships are holy. and I hold them in the highest regards. His friendship is everything sacred to me.

If I could be completely honest with no regrets, what I would say to him with no regret? In my dreams, I say, I love you with so much passion. I love you with so much fearlessness. I love you with so much admiration. I love you with so much heart and soul.

I tell him often, that I love him. That is the truth. There is no other truth. I love him. Everything else is of no consequence. But if I could be completely honest with no regrets, I'd propose with ring in hand... With a promise to live happily-ever-after... Marry me.

NaBloPoMo Day 2: Brave Is My Middle Name

I am a woman of size and girth. I am 5'8' barefooted, I weigh 273 lbs. I am a Queenly woman.
I was not a fat kid growing up, but I have become a fat woman. I am never troubled by this fact until I see my doctor, or someone remembers me from my modeling days, or someone wonders how someone so pretty carries weight so well. Whatever. I have heard every veiled insult.

I was feeling frumpy and a bit worn out and not anything remotely close to sexy or having sex appeal... So I decided to reclaim my own sense of self. A Boudoir shoot. Yes, a 5 hour photo session of my scantily clad self complete with a professional makeup. If I was going to be at the mercy of a photographer, I was going to do it with all the tricks and tools of the Super Models.

There is nothing braver than prancing around in lingerie in a body that is not celebrated in lingerie.

I arrived for my photo shoot with a arm load of lingerie of every sort. Baby doll, bustier, lace, peignoirs, chandelier earrings, feather mules, strappy 6 inch stilettos. I was determined to recapture my inner vixen. Sexy was the order of the day and I do believe I delivered!

My photographer was ready for me with a fruit tray and wine. As soon as I walked in for my 10:00 am appointment she handed me a glass of champagne, pumped up the music and was ready to go. My Makeup artist was instructed to go all out sex glam!  Long eyelashes, smokey eyes, pouty lips. I didn't recognize myself. It was a stunning transformation! I was over the moon delighted!

THERE IS NOTHING BRAVER THAN PRANCING AROUND IN LINGERIE IN A BODY THAT IS NOT CELEBRATED IN LINGERIE!

Am I glad I did it? YES! At 53 I needed that reminder that this old Gurl is without a doubt fuckable. That was the priceless realization. My inner caught up with my outer me.

NaBloPoMo Day 1: My Mental Health Tool Kit Break Glass In Case of Emergency

It has been a good long while since I did the annual NaBloPoMo in November! I'm back at it this year because I'm not doing NaNoWriMo... I finally completed it last year! So I don't feel a burning desire to churn out 50,000 words in 30 days! I do however like the discipline of a blog post every day for the month of November. So, this is day one and the first prompt is:
"When you're having a bad day with your mental health what do you do to help yourself?"

Over the years I have built myself a mental health survival tool kit. Things I've learned on my journey towards healing, wholeness and love. The tool kit is big and deep....I've been at this a very long time.

This blog is a direct result of trying to hold onto myself as I was going through storms! Writing out my pain, joys, growth, celebrations, sorrows, mundane shit. Writing/journaling has been the biggest tool in the tool kit.

Seeking help. I am not afraid to go and get the help I need to stay rooted and grounded on earth. I have given up the myth of be strong, go it alone. I have retired the "Strong Black Woman" tome for a much more realistic chant of I NEED HELP!

I have a hand picked tribe/squad/community/friends/sista-gurls who are all about my growth and uplift.

Sleep/Rest is prayer. When I am overextended it is because I am not rested. I make better decisions rested.

I eat well. I work to be mindful of not eating my pain away. I do not beat myself up if I do. I just start again.

I create art. I fancy myself an artist and I just set aside time to create stuff... Draw, paint, glue shit, sprinkle glitter.

I get outdoors. I take walks. I sit on my front steps.

I cry. I cry. I cry. Then I dry my eyes and fight back.

In case of emergency I know how to break the glass. I know how to get help. I know how to call someone. I notice when I am isolating. I notice when I am retreating too far away from my support.

I blog. It is immediate. It is me and the solitude of the mood.

I read. Sometimes fiction is needed. Sometimes spiritual books, devotionals. Sometimes a steamy love story. Sometimes a memoir is just the thing... Reading about someone Else's story of survival and triumph.

I am of the mindset, that I must do all that I can to secure my happiness, calm my mind and positively feed my spirit. I've seen some dark days... Some unspeakable. And yet here I am. Thriving or attempting to thrive daily.

I am Available.

Fall in Connecticut is  stunningly beautiful! The leaves are changing and falling. There is a crispness in the air, although at the moment it is quite warm. I am in my element...Tis the season of shedding the old and making room for the new.

I find myself saying with great confidence I AM AVAILABLE! I am available spiritually, physically, mentally. Come glad tidings come!

I have spent a great deal of time doing my inner work... Answering the big questions, seeking divine guidance and standing in my truth. I have walked the world a wounded healer. I have quit on life several times. I have gotten back in the race. I've had some wins, took some loses and still I pressed on.

I am a member of a tribe of folks who hold me sacred at every turn. I guard those friendships with my life. When I tell you I am available. I mean it. There is no better version of me than the one I am right now!

I have spent a great deal of time lamenting a love life or rather the lack of a lover in my life. I am very much surrounded by love, what I miss and want is a lover. I am available.

I have immersed myself in books to help the self. I have taken self-development courses here and there and everywhere. I have journaled, morning pages, a mountain of post-it notes filled with affirmations. I am whole. I am happy. I am alright. I am available.

It is time to say it and walk in it. I am available.

This is what I require... Show up as your best self. No preconceived notions of who you are. Have some faith in mankind. Respect my relationship with God. Know that I read for pleasure and knowledge.  Have some shit for yourself... friends, hobbies, you time. Be imaginative. Be honest. Be present. Be supportive. Be Soulful.

Talk to me as if your life depended on it. Be glad about who you are and where you're from. Be available.

I am available.

Frieda Kahlo To Marty McConnell

I subscribe to The Elephant Journal. I get their stuff emailed directly to me. It is some of the best "live a mindful life" ish out there. Yesterday's (9/30/16) treasure trove came with a poem crafted by Marty McConnell. The poem was inside of a post by Crystal Jackson "Take a Lover who looks at You like Maybe You are Magic". ~ (Not) Frieda Kahlo. In her post she discovered an often attributed quote to the fabulous Kahlo was not indeed hers. It was a line from a poem written by Marty McConnell.

As lover of fine poetry... this poem is sublime. So here it is. I hope they don't mind that I posted it here!

Frieda Kahlo To Marty McConnell
by Marty McConnell

Leaving is not hard enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog, change the locks
even on the house he's never
visited. you lucky lucky girl
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. the heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don't wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses.
you make him call before
he visits. you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever alter you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don't lose too much weight
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

I Am Not Asking What Do I Want

October is coming. It is my New Year's resolution-making time. The time where I look down the road and think about where I want to be and what I want to be doing. I can feel the transitioning in my bones. My life will change yet again. My life is calling me to new ground. My life is calling me to new love, and to the healing of the oldest wounds.

The cool crisp mornings are whispering it is time.

I am not asking what do I want. The real question is what am I willing to do for the wants I already have? There are not new wants. I have the same wants that existed at the beginning of this blog. The same wants:

1. To know me better
2. To walk and stand in truth
3. To love with abandon
4. To be loved with equal aplomb
5. To continue to attract wholehearted loving people
6. To be good and kind and generous to my friends
7. To laugh more
8. To dance more
9. To make love more
10. To love who I am in this body
11. To be financially strong

These are the wants. These are the things that come and go in my life. I want consistency and long-term. I want eons of good fortune. I want endless days of laughter and dancing. Here comes October calling me to my annual sojourn of offering prayers for the journey ahead.

Photo: Karen King

Adulting: Showing Up For Love

In friendships, you have to be willing to go to your beloved and say you hurt me. And equally important if you've done the hurting, you gotta repair that shit. You gotta take your spit and glue and tape and bandaids, offering a balm. Love requires that and much more.

You hurt me is hard to say and hard to hear. Often folks can't bear it on either receiving end. If you are the one directing it to your beloved, then in your repair and healing of the situation, you have to resist the urge to say that's not what I intended, or meant. Or that I didn't think it was offensive or hurtful. If you are the one saying how you are hurt by what was said or done, then you have to be clear and honest as you can be in those moments.

Hurt words can be healed, providing you are prepared to walk in truth. Let me tell you what hurt and why. We hurt each other in small almost unnoticeable ways. We hurt each other in grand sweeping ways. We hurt each other. The mark of love calls us to repair, tend to and heal the wrong done, real or imagined.

Not telling someone how you really feel about them is not walking in truth, And brushing off things only stores them in a powder keg. Someday it will go BOOM! So rather than wait for the explosion, speak your peace.  I value those I hold dear as friends. I want them to know that hurtful words in and of themselves will not break our friendship. Misunderstandings cannot be left to fester because we are afraid that we can't get to higher ground... common ground. I promise to make myself available to listen without judgment. I may need time to process what you say, but I will not up and abandon the friendship. I pride myself on being a reasonable, deeply thinking woman.

At this place in my life, I am tending some of the most beautiful relationships I've ever had. All the people in my universe are treasures. Each one of them makes me a better woman. The fact that they make room in their lives for me and my shit is breathtaking. I come with complications and unimaginable wounds that run deep and long. Yet somehow their hearts welcome me and I am safe and cared for.

Showing up vulnerable is where I want to exist from. I want to be wide open. That comes with risks. I am willing to take the risks.

Nothing has changed except now I accept that you are unkind

As long as I draw breath, I suspect that I will be always the kind of woman that readily makes friends and invites people into my life. I am fascinated by people's stories. I talk for hours to people on a regular basis. There is always some depth that I want to get to with folks. I am always meeting kindred souls on life's byways and highways.

Being how I am, with always inviting folks to converse and being open, to discovering what we can in discussion and late night heated sharing and early morning hey you. Is often a prescription for experiencing different sides of people that they normally don't show to others. What I mean is, people can be fucked up in other relationships, but then they step into my universe and they don't bring that with them... until they do.  I was told incessantly "I am not kind" and my reply was always, "I believe you, but that has not been my experience of you". And onward we go, existing in the bubble of enchantment. Now, mind you, I can always feel the cracks in the bubble early. I can tell when the truth of just being, starts to seep in. Little annoyances start to become bigger annoyances. We are talking, but not deeply. We are slipping away from the early days of interest and intrigue. What is passing for friendship between us, is the mutually satisfying work... Me building my dreams, and you building another chapter in a life with great determination and focus. We are becoming estranged.

I hold few things to the breast anymore. I have learned to not hoard love or magazines. Nothing has changed. I love you. Nothing has changed except now I accept that you are unkind. It is now my experience. I have stepped out of the bubble of enchantment and into the bright bold, harsh light of day. And all shall be well.

Each experience of enchantment brings me closer to a new me that I am so pleased to meet. I like who I was in relation to you. I am still she. And I like me so much. I don't know what you started to see, or how you came to the observations about who I am and what I need. I don't care to know at this point. Your opinion is neither here nor there in the overall scheme of things. I am wrong about people all the time. I am a fool most times opening myself to folks. I am my best self when I am living my vulnerabilities; this is the space I want to be in.

The riches of life are such that, you can meet a perfect stranger one day, make friends, do creative things and love and not love and love a bit more and move on.

Nothing has changed. Except, I now accept that you are unkind. And that my friend is the greatest gift. The gift of walking in truth and believed.

I Am The Worst Kind Of Fool...

At some point, I gotta let go of all hope of some magical man showing up. At some point, I gotta resign myself to the truth of things as they are right this minute. There is no one out there for me at the moment. Hasn't been for a very long time.

I don't know how to be anything else. I do not know how to become someone else. A she that is more desirable, more beautiful, thinner, taller, smaller in some places, bigger in others. I don't know how to be a she that someone wants above all others. At 53, I gotta stop looking into the eyes of men who look past me. Men whose gaze is for a she that I don't happen to be. A she that is on his wish list.

I am a 53-year-old Sister. Witty, highly intelligent, a go-getter, funny, engaging, and on some occasions considered quite pretty. I am always beautiful I believe. So I am not wallowing in some kind of self-pity soup. I am weary of going out and being on display hoping someone will notice me. Pick me. Engage me. See me and be in awe of my being.

I am the worst kind of fool... Magical, sparkly and effervescent. I see the goodness everywhere. I am a girl for a silver lining on the rainiest days. And yet, here I sit and type about the aloneness of my life. A life filled with so much that I am overwhelmed on any given day with, goings-on, happenings, good times, all manner of fetes!

I don't want to be wallowing in sadness. This isn't about sadness. It is about aloneness. The kind of aloneness I experience when I wake in the night and there is no one to roll into. Aloneness where there is no one to talk to, laugh with, joke with, work shit out with.

I have fine people in my life. People who bring me joy, and peace and happiness and fun, and camaraderie and sisterhood. I just have to quit wishing for a different reality. Embrace what is and turn my attention toward things I have some real influence and impact on.

It is time to give up the notion of whatever I was hoping and wishing for. I'm good with this. The aloneness stays. The aloneness stays and has a place at the table. This chapter closes.

Photo: Karen King
Make-up: Winter Carson
Hair: Hair's Kay Salon & Sangerster Barber.

Redefining My Being When Things Fall Apart

I am not new to my life crashing down around me. I can count using both hands the number of times my life fell to the ground on fire, or shattered, or drowned, or crumbled, or just fell apart. It is doing that now. And here I stand to survey the rubble... or about to survey the rubble. Can I tell you that the fight to hold up my world has left me? I do not have the energy or the will to swim against the tide. This time, I am surrendering quickly and serenely.  Surrendering not because I am weak and I can't fight. But that the fight is different. I am different. My strength is needed elsewhere.

In the days and weeks and months ahead, my life will change. It is my plan to go with the flow. To retire my battle armor and move in a different direction. I am not here for the court of public opinion. Been there done that. I am not here for the feigned humiliation of loss. Been there, done that too. What I want more than anything is to be untethered to time, space and place.

I am a very different woman now. Even as I look back over the years of this blog, I can see real growth and revelations and illuminations. The path was always lit enough to step forward albeit timidly, but most often boldly.

I am not going to get all twisted about the coming storm. I am not going to panic (which I never do anyway). I am not going to wring my hands and lay awake worrying, crying, pleading with God for a more favorable outcome. What I am going to do is move with as much grace as I can. I am going to be calm and thoughtful about the moves I make. And I will not be hasty in any decisions moving forward. I am at my best with a calm and cool mind.

So as the world around me crashes once again. I'll be ready to climb up and out. That is how I'm made. Resilient. Bold. Unafraid.

Vacation

I move through daily constant pain. I just bear it. I just stand in it. I just deal with it.

The weight of things past, present and future. When can I come out of the rain? When can I just rest?

I want so much, that I think I am foolish in my inner desires. I am foolish in ways that make me ashamed. I am foolish still in ways that make me realize I haven't learned shit.

How am I living? Why am I living? These questions get answered and remain unanswered at the same time. There is a weariness that shows up to remind me that the struggle is very real.

Perhaps I am feeling some kind of way because in a few days I'm headed to Martha's Vineyard... Oak Bluffs. It is there I am renewed and refreshed and rejuvenated.  The ancestors have direct access to me. I welcome their connection.

Time away is needed. I am prickly for a lot of reasons.

Listen, I'll be back on August 6th or around... In the meantime, read the archives... Good shit for sure! To the right of the screen. 

I Believe In...

I Believe:

In love everlasting; sex on rainy days; sex on Sundays; good wine; vegan artisan chocolates; fancy sexy panties; Church on Some Sundays; Jazz; Cassandra Wilson; red lace bras; high heels; flats; red lipstick; black lipstick; soft porn done well; live music; kink; natural hair; 100% Egyptian cotton sheets; silk pajamas; champagne everyday; beautifully grilled steak; cognac; roses; peonies; orchids; phone sex; spiritually rooted conversations; jazz gospel music; masturbation; silk scarves; incense; Angela Bofill; Fine table wear; vases; pitchers; sparkly picture frames; red glasses; down pillows; feather beds; Martha's Vineyard; Just about anywhere in the Caribbean; Peace of mind; love letters; Christmas, snow on occasion; Martha's Vineyard; Adoption of children; enduring friendships; Walks in truth; real men; solid brothers; Black Greek Women; DST; Men who love with abandon; Men who adore Black Women; Men who protect Black Women; Men who revere Black women; vegan ice cream; Black children; United Church of Christ; My dearest friends; Solid Black Men; Teachers of Color; Children of Color; Strong neighborhoods, long showers; long baths, vegan biscuits; real cocktails; Hebrew scripture; sacred Christian scripture; Bob Marley; Mozart; Paris; Prague; New Orleans; Earth Wind & Fire; Phyllis Hyman; hot days; love everlasting; Nikki Giovanni; HBCUs; William Spivey; Red sports cars; bright colored galoshes; red lipstick; good hot coffee; unsweetened ice tea; Books: More books; Still more books; poetry; Lots and lots of poetry; Binge TV watching; collard greens on Sundays; My daughters; my Sons; Robin Gwathney; Big Mike; Bob-O; peace on earth.

We are what we tell ourselves we are. We attract what we are. We believe what we experience

I am AMAZING. BEAUTIFUL. RESILLIENT. POWERFUL. LOVEABLE. COOL AS SHIT!

Photo: Karen King Photography

Makeup: Winter Carson, Madame Blush
Hair: Hair's Kay Salon and Sangster Barber & Salon

Hey Babz, You Need To Do Dating Differently

I have always viewed dating as an adventure waiting to unfold; that I would meet someone and we would click. I was excited to date and see what opportunities awaited me. I had no list or heavy criteria. I just wanted someone who was intellectual, and spiritually and emotionally strong in their own right and ready for a woman like me... Or if not on the same page, at least in the same book!

My Ex-husband Lawrence was a wonderful example of intellect, street smart, hip-hop and jazz. He truly was and is a student of the world. He was a faithful and abiding man. He had a faith in Islam that guided him. I admired that. He was not a cheater. I never worried or had cause to worry about him betraying our marriage vows. In that regard, I was blessed. I know so many men who have cheated or are cheaters. Men who have cut a path of heartache and family destruction that gives me pause. That was not my experience in my marriage. There were other problems that contributed to the demise of the marriage. But overall, we share a great many values. We were equal adventurers and learners and readers and art appreciators!

So, of course, I thought to get out there again, surely the Gods will smile upon me again! Then Jamal showed  up... With all the romantic dust dreams are made of. As it turned out... Jamal was not anything I would wish on anyone. It was a disaster. We are no longer friends. We were friends since we were 12 and 13 years old. A day-to-day loveship was a prescription for pain. What had such promise, turned into a nightmare. I moved on.

Dating now, I thought I had a clear understanding of what I was doing. It has been one bad date after another. So I'm conceding to the universe. I hear you! It is time to move in an ENTIRELY NEW DIRECTION... E.N.D.

My village and the universe of friends are wide and intimate. My friend Bill suggested I rethink my concept of dating. "You're a great communicator" start there. My soul mate Carlos said just be still and allow someone to show up for you. And My BFF Ron thinks I do too much. "You are enough," he says. "You are delightful and loving and kind and stunningly beautiful".  Just wait. Someone will show up. Someone, I bet totally unexpected.

I have decided to stop dating for the Summer. No more dates for the remaining Summer. Perhaps in the Fall, depending on how I feel.

This last date was tough and terrifying. He put his hands on me in a way to threaten and intimidate me. It did not work. I am still mad and feel acutely vulnerable. So this Summer, I chill. No dates. Just conversations... The richer the better.

I am a great communicator. I walk in truth. I do not lie. I used to be a liar and a manipulator. I am not that woman anymore...Haven't been that woman for more than a decade (the length of marriage). Marriage was my saving grace, the ctatlyst that showed me love was possible for me.

I am quite transparent as a love interest. We must be each other's savior and not assassin. That's what I am taking into the next loveship. So this summer no dating! Just Communicating!

 Let's see how this approach fares. I'll keep you posted.





photo: Karen King, Photographer
Makeup: Winter Carson, Madame Blush
Hair: Hair's Kay and Sangster Barber & Salon

Julia Fordham - Italy

 Can we move to Italy?

I will take a boat and meet you there
Can we move to Italy?
I will put fresh flowers in my hair

Can we move to Italy?
I have been traveling
With my face pressed against
The windscreen of my dusty car
Trying to be where you are

Can we move to Italy?
I will take a house and make it home
Can we move to Italy?
We can dance in Venice, kiss in Rome

Can we move to Italy?
Meet me by the church up high
On the hill, please say you will
Way above the shore below
Down in Portofino

I've got my ticket
And my purple rosary
I know my mission

I'm set for Italy

Watch the sun come up, the sun go down
Punch the air, kiss the ground
(Italy)
Dance in Venice, kiss in Rome
(Italy)
(Italy)
Take a little house, make it home

Can we move to Italy?
I will take a boat and meet you there
Can we move to Italy?
I will put fresh flowers in my hair
Can we move to Italy?

Watch the sun come up, the sun go down
(Italy, Italy)
Punch the air, kiss the ground
Dance in Venice, kiss in Rome

(Can we move to Italy?)
Take a little house, make it home
(Can we move?)

Watch the sun come up, the sun go down
(Italy)
Punch the air, kiss the ground
Dance in Venice, kiss in Rome

(Can we move to Italy?)
(Italy)
Take a little house, make it home
(Can we move?)

(Can we move to Italy?)
Watch the sun come up, the sun go down
Punch the air, kiss the ground

(Can we move to Italy?)
Dance in Venice, kiss in Rome
Take a little house, make it home

(Can we move to Italy?)
Watch the sun come up, the sun go down
Punch the air, kiss the ground

Songwriters
Fordham Julia

Published by
RYKOMUSIC, INC.

Defining and Owning My Sexy 2016

I did a Boudoir Shoot. A photo session where I am photographed in lingerie and, yes NAKED!

Why? Why would I do this? Isn't this just continuing to objectify women? Am I contributing to the objectification of women by willingly objectifying myself?

Maybe the answer is YES! Maybe the answer is NO!  All I know is that I wanted to capture the sensualness of this body right now. Not me 50 lbs from now in either direction. I wanted to see myself sexy, sensual and desirable. Yes, I needed to stand in front of a camera in lingeries and be SASSY FLIRTY POWERFUL and SEXY!

I am more confident than most. I am aware of the rape culture we exist in. I know how looks and appearances are used to promote us and break us. I just can't stand how I am always asked to ignore my sexualness, my sensualness in the face of weight, race, and age.

I am a beautiful woman. and I do not have a lot of time on earth to seek permission to be beautiful.

So, I happily decided to see myself Sexy. Beautiful and Desirable. Now! In this body. At this weight. At this age.

I am done hiding. I am done hiding. I am done hiding. I am done hiding. I am done hiding.
I AM DONE HIDING.

Photo: Kerrian Company

Hair: 

Color: Hairs Kay Barber: Mr. Omar, Sangster Barber

Make-up: Madame Blush/ Winter Carson

Weight A Minute...

I was not a fat kid. As a matter of fact I didn't put on real weight until I was out of college for a few years. However, I was always bigger than my Sister Lo. When she wore a size 0, 1,3,8. I wore a 10, 12, 14.  My mother thought I was getting too fat... a size 10. I remember her saying I refuse to buy clothes for a fat girl. I believe she was trying to motivate me. It did not.

Size 14 was my best. I looked amazing. I was modeling for plus size departments in swanky department stores. Size 14 was PERFECT. I could wear any 14 and look fabulous. FABULOUS! My height and this slight roundness was heavenly. But here's the thing, I did not know that at that time. I did not fully grasp how amazing my body was. I dieted. I ballooned up to a size 18. Depression kicked in. Dieted some more. Size 22. More dieting Size 24.  I am comfortably a 20/22 now. And I'm not sure I am happy. I am trying to embrace this, while creating an eating lifestyle change... Code for yet another diet.

I am more confident than most. But man, I tell you, the images that come at me. The no-longer subliminal messages that scream YOU ARE FAT gnaws at me day in and day out.  This steady streaming of "I AM NOT ENOUGH YET"  "If Only I Were Thinner" There Is A Magic Diet Out There If I just Look Harder". On and on and on until I am exhausted with self-doubt, lack of self-worth and just all out hatred of myself.

There are many days where my weight is not an issue for me. I look fabulous, I have great clothes that fit and are stylish, hip and sometimes sexy. Why am I so twisted about weight? Maybe I think I'm not at my best. Maybe I think I could have more, be more without the weight of weight. But wait, isn't this a distraction for what ails me? Just more things to get at the heart of.

Over the years I've declared "My Last Year Being Fat" look to the right of this post and see the labels... I believe there are a few years running. It is not the source of my underlying unhappiness, it is just another thing showing up.

I gotta get to the root of this weight issue and why I am carrying so much. I must because it's showing up in my spotlight begging for my attention. I've done some work, though; I've linked my sexual abuse and exploitation to this weight. I've linked a whole host of other triggers to this weight. Now my mind and body have to turn toward losing this weight. That's the journey calling me now.

For no other reason than I must be about the business of saving my own life, this weight has to be let go of. And If I'm not interested in saving my own life, then what am I doing really?  Am I preparing to die? Weight a minute? Am, I moving toward my own death? Weighty issues indeed. Answers are needed. A shift in body imagery and acceptance is growing in popularity. Can I jump in the discussion and maybe learn something? Share something? The weight of and in my life is trying to get my attention. It's time to listen and allow this voice to rise up above all others.

Photo by the very talented photographer Karen King

Revisiting: What Do I Want Now?

I am always caught off guard when I am asked: "What Do You Want?" This question haunts me, torments me and propels me to finding the answers.

What do I want? Periodically I gotta ask this question... The answers have changed as I have changed throughout this big life. What I wanted as a teenager is quite laughable now... Oh, I wanted so little which seemed so much.

At each decade, the wants morphed into needs. And soon wants became fantasies and little luxuries of thoughts and daydreams. Somewhere along the way, I learned you can't have what you want. Settling shows up and became the new world order.

I am becoming acutely aware of the passing of time. I am solidly 53 years old. I do not believe I have another robust 53 years ahead of me. Perhaps 20 years if I'm extremely lucky. So this time right now has to count, be lived fully. This is what I know moving forward. I cannot squander my remaining days wanting and not having.

This is where it gets challenging. How do I do this in the midst of everything else I am juggling, handling, responsible for? I do believe this is the question facing many modern women. Trying to create an identity that is not tied to marriage, motherhood and work. I love being all these other things, but this is not about that. This is clearly about the stirrings of my heart and long-held dreams.

Is this transitioning again? I don't know, but I owe myself the opportunity to find out.

Oh, by the way, the blog is staying. The calls, emails, messaging was loud and clear. Thank you for those of you still reading my little slice of the world wide web.

Reinvention: A Brand New Me!

My dear Sister-friend Karen King sat me down for a photo shoot! It was AMAZING! I do believe it's time for a new Me! It's time for this blog to end and a new one begun.

Time for new worlds to explore and new paths to purposely go down.

Hello 53! Glad To See You!

May 2, 2016, was my 53rd birthday! A lovely day filled with self-care!

I'm still writing love letters to myself for the #100DayProject. I am still working on my personal projects. I'll be back in a week or so. Happy Birthday to Me!

Day 2 #100DayProject #LoveBabzLoveLetters

Love letters to myself. Sitting with a glass of wine writing heartfelt letters to myself.

It is healing and restorative. Besides no one is more romantic than me! 

100 Day Project: #LoveBabzLoveletters

So I've decided to write love letters to myself for the #100DayProject. I am doing this because it's artistic and creative and revolutionary. There is no one coming to love me more than I love myself. I need to rejoice in my own heart and use kind and loving words on myself. Follow me on Instagram LoveBabz 

100 Days Project! Starts 4/19/16

What could you do with 100 days of making? That's the challengeL 100 Days Project! being creative! being artistic! Being Healthy! What would you do? Well, I am challenging you to do something!

Starting today April 19, 2016 and ending July 27, 2016 make something! Create something!
use the hashtag #100DAYPROJECT  I have an idea of what I want to do. So follow me on Instagram Lovebabz. I'll have a hashtag and everything! And THANKS to elleluna on Instagram for launching this and big thanks to A'Driane Nieves, www.addyeB.com my facebook friend and supreme artist for sharing this with me.

Sometimes Allowing Yourself Not To Want Is Code For Worthlessness

I have been acting like to want anything is to be unworthy of everything.

It came full circle this morning in church as I was reading the 23 Psalm... The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

I realized that in not allowing myself to want, what I am really doing is saying I don't deserve.

As I inventory my life I can clearly see where I am doing this. I am doing this with money. I am doing this with weight loss. I am doing it with launching my projects. I am doing this in seeking a partner/lover/husband. I am doing this just about everywhere in my everyday practical life.

I dream a good game. And then I sabotage all my dreams because I won't say out loud what I want. I won't write down what I want. I won't take to prayer what I want. This is not a want issue it is a deserving issue.

As long as I don't think I deserve shit. I won't get shit. There is no plainer way to say it.

I remember when I was a student at the School of Spirituality at the Mercy Center. We were discussing God and prayer. I was saying how ashamed I was for wanting to pray for things that were unique  and personal to me when there were people in the world experiencing real hardships and losses. That my prayers were petty and selfish and insulting to God. I really did think this. My loving and divine teacher Sister Patty gently said God can handle it all. There is room for all prayers. God is big. You are reducing God to your human self rather than allowing God to be boundless glorious God.

This is what I know moving forward... Sometimes not allowing yourself to want is code for worthlessness. Getting to this understanding requires truth telling to my soul. What am I afraid of  asking for? Why am I not worthy of the things I want?  This is where I have the most work to do.