The AHA Moment

This weekend I had an insightful conversation with an insightful woman. I find it quite therapeutic talking to her because through our trying-to-understand-life convos, she allows me to see things in a way I hadn't previously considered. I think we take turns at shedding the light on our various confusions...lol. Anyway, we were talking about the engaged ex and I was telling her that in a weird way, I wasn't feeling as...affected...as I thought I would have. It's like, right before you get in an accident...you brace yourself and wait for the crash. You wait for the pain. But then, for whatever reason, the crash isn't as bad as it could have/should have been. Yet, you still imagine/feel that you're as hurt as you would've been had the crash been as bad as you expected. Well, I think that's where I am. I knew the engagement would be coming eventually and perhaps a year ago, I would've been crushed. But today, I'm actually not. I mean, I was blown when I found out and even felt angry/betrayed in some ways. But, crushed, I wasn't. Strangely enough, there is some sort of comfort in the expected reaction. Because the reaction is tied to the feelings I have/had for him which ties me to that oh so wonderful 'in love feeling'. And the 'in love feeling' is what I seem to be holding onto. And the reason that I may not be letting go completely, even though I think I may be ready to do so, is that letting it go would mean accepting that that 'in love spot' is empty again.

Here's the thing. Being in love or loving someone romantically is a euphoric feeling. It feels good to love someone that way...it feels good to have identified someone that you think you could spend a lifetime with. The feeling feels good, even when the situation may not. And so sometimes...the AHA moment...I try to hold on to the feeling (and the people) way too long because letting go would mean I'm left without someone to love...and without someone to love, what do I have? Aha...and...sigh. Never thought about it like that. And looking back over my history with men and holding on, it makes even more sense.

My truth is that I want someone to love. But, more specifically, I want someone to love that will love me back...in the same ways. Because if loving someone is euphoric, than adding the reciprocity is...rapturous. And, I'd much rather have rapturous. I deserve rapturous. So, if that means releasing the past that has already released itself from me, then that is what I have to do. And the space that opens up in my heart...I'll spend a little more time loving myself and those around me who love me.

Thanks for walking me to the Aha moment. Wish me luck.

Brown Sugar Thursday Randomness

I'm shaky today. Emotionally shaky. I feel so back and forth with all of this. Somedays I'm cool. Moving along just fine, enjoying myself, keeping my mind free and clear. And other days it's just like...wham! Just dropping on my spirit. Last night/today is one of those times.

I don't understand. To have been told I'm 'wife material' so many times in my life, but to still not be one...hell, to not be a girlfriend. To have men grow with me and then receive wedding announcements, seemingly right after we break up (maybe a little more time in between, but still). As if my role is that of the husband-preparer. I'm tired of grooming every-damn-body else's husband. I don't get it. I've never considered myself a naive woman. For the most part, I think I can sense when folks are lying. And so, I don't understand how men can love one woman and marry another. Or love two women and marry one. Are they really happy that way? Are they truly THAT good at compartmentalizing their feelings? Are we as women just not capable of grasping it because we don't have that ability?

Look at the movie 'Brown Sugar'...that said it all. Dre (Taye Diggs) married Reese (Nicole Ari Parker) knowing good and damn well that he was truly in love with Syd (Sanaa Lathan). But, he figured he had been with Reese for awhile, she was a good woman, it was about that time, so why not? The bama got married. Now Syd did get engaged to Kelby (Boris Kodjoe) - only after Dre got married. However, it was clear that she was never going to be able to go through with it...and she didn't. Why? Because she knew that her heart was with Dre. She was really incapable of marrying this other man, no matter how good of a man he was, because we are not made like that. Men, on the other hand, can have the love of their life tell them that they're waiting, but they won't leave the Dre-Reese relationship that they're in because it may be too much of a risk. Seriously? Seriously? We're talking about a lifetime and they don't want to take the risk for true happiness. That's some punk shit. At least from this woman's perspective.

So, I could ask him...when did he fall in love with hip-hop and hope that he could and would say that he's been in love with me since the first day he saw me and can't see me not being the woman in his life for another day. But, I think I'd have to watch Brown Sugar in order to get the Dre-Syd reconciliation type of ending. Good thing I own the movie though, because reality's ending isn't quite as sweet.

Where does your heart feel lightest?

Sometimes I really wonder how people used to work in the same job for 40-50 years. I assume that, in most cases, it had more to do with responsibility than affinity for their work. A lot has changed and nowadays folks will change jobs every few years if they choose. But, regardless of how much job-hopping we do, how happy are we in any given position?

Every so often, I go through these times where I struggle to get up for work EVERY SINGLE morning. Sometimes I stay up too late; sometimes my iron level (& therefore my energy level) may be low; sometimes I just want to take a vacation...etc etc...but, I have to believe that at times it is more than that. As far as my job goes, it's cool. I don't love it, but I like it and enjoy my field and the people that I work with. I enjoy the tangible nature of my work...designing or reviewing something and then in the future actually being able to go outside and see it built, functioning and improving what was there before. That's cool. But, it's still not my passion. It's not what I could see myself happily doing in 20 years.

An old friend of mine asked me an interesting question a few months back. We were talking about purpose and jobs and passions and how to know what we were supposed to be doing. She listened to me ramble on about my 9 to 5 and about my love of writing/ creativity/ communicating emotions & experiences in a way that others can feel understood and validated. She paused and asked me a simple question. When and where do your heart and your spirit feel lightest?

Hmmm. My spirit feels light when...I am creating. My spirit feels light when...I capture something in a way that allows someone else to see things differently. My heart feels light when...it's 3am and I'm in my makeshift darkroom printing black & whites. My spirit feels light when...I'm driving with all the windows down and verbally composing a new poem of substance. My heart feels light when...I can let someone know they are not alone in their experience or thinking...

I don't think I'm supposed to up and quit my job right now. (At least, I don't think God has put that in my spirit just yet.) But, I do think I should spend much more time in those places where my heart and spirit feel light. And maybe those are the things that will make me eager to wake up and get out of bed in the mornings. If not for this paycheck, than for another opportunity to create something wonderful for someone else and/or myself. Now that's something to look forward to.

Streams of Consciousness

1. Thank God for great girlfriends...I always feel that my girls are invaluable. But, when the bumps in the road come...i.e. ex's getting engaged...the great ones really shine. They step up, hunker down for the first slew of expletives when I'm angry, console me when I figure out I'm more hurt/sad than angry, validate me when they agree and keep it real when they don't, and give me the pep talk when its time to get moving again. Never underestimate the power and the strength of the sista-circle.

2. There are no coincidences...The other week, in the midst of the ex-bomb, I was still reeling a bit from the surprise. I was asked to help out at this community service activity...reading to kids and promoting literacy. Cool deal. Well, there was a fair amount of activity, but I really didn't have to much to do...so I read a few short books (Amelia Bedelia wasn't a favorite of mine...lol) and chilled. To make a long story short, I ended up chatting with a woman about the phenomenal film 'Souls of Black Girls' (http://www.soulsofblackgirls.com/) and the implications of absent fathers and positive reinforcement on the self-esteem and self-image of black girls and black women. Somehow, this convo transitioned into one about relationships, heartbreak, patience and release. We had never met before and she knew nothing of my recent news...but, in the middle of this great conversation she says...I don't know what it is for you right now, but you are going to be okay. Whatever happened yesterday is over. Let it go. Whoever he was, let him go. Yours is coming. I can feel it in my spirit...you will be just fine. It's time to let it go.... And I was speechless. Thanks for the messenger, God.

3. She was a great woman...A close friend of my mom's passed away the other week. She had battled ovarian cancer for some time. As I sat in the pew at her funeral, I felt the tears welling up...for her passing, for her husband and two sons, for the void that would exist in the lives of all those filling the church...including my mom. But, I think I was most overwhelmed by the wonderful way in which everyone spoke of her...not in that it's her funeral so everyone says something nice kinda way. But in the genuine, she had an awesome spirit, kind of way. I want to live my life in a way that when I'm gone, I will have made a difference in someone's life. That people and the world would have been better because I was here. Like Mrs. J. I learned a lot about her I didn't know from listening to her friends and family speak about her. She will be sorely missed by those of us here, but I can only imagine that God had the perfect spot for her...after all He wants the best one's to be with Him. We'll miss you.

4. I love black women...including myself. I love their strength, resilience, beauty, diversity, intelligence, capacity for love, faith, loyalty, ability to nurture...I love the way that black woman are not just capable of, but good at, taking care of others...children, friends, husbands, folks they don't even know...I love the way that black women just get it...no explanations needed...from one sista to another...they've been there and understand...man, black woman are truly phenomenal. And one day...the rest of the world will figure it out, too.

5. Strumming my pain with his fingers...singing my life with his words...killing me softly with his song...there's nothing like great lyrics. I am in love with great music. Lyricists who write songs like they're walking in my shoes hold a special place in my heart. Right now I'm still doing a little bit of flip-flopping over the ex (what else is new, right??). I'm somewhere in between Ms. Scott's My Love...

Yo...I'm tripping right...I heard you got married...You got married?... It don't really make any sense...but You know what this is, You know what it was...You chose her cause she's sweet as pie...Take what you give...even your lie...But baby,are you happy without me?... She scrubs your back,washes your clothes...Gives you everything that you ask for...But don't you ever want more?...

...and Chrisette Michele's Best of Me...

Saw you again at the parlor/Crossing the walk with your lady/I caught your eye from afar off/I know that she wore a ring/I found a smile against my will/Wish it was genuine/I put away my desire/No more "in love with you still"/Look I'm moving on, oh/Loved you, lost you/Thought I'd give you/All the best of me/We departed/Broken hearted/I need to be free/What we had was/Oh so lovely/I'll swallow my pain/Its my time to/Find the best of me/Can't be the time to be begging/Can't be the time to plead/My momma made me much wiser/What's mine will be just for me/I'm trying hard just to focus/I'm trying hard to sleep/Promise I'm glad you're happy/When its my time it will be/Look I'm moving on, oh oh oh/Loved you, lost you/Thought I'd give you/All the best of me/We departed/Broken hearted/I need to be free/What we had was/Oh so lovely/I'll swallow my pain/Its my time to/Find the best of me...

Chrisette's coming to town so hopefully, I'll catch the concert and not only sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs, but truly follow them...what we had was oh so lovely, I'll swallow my pain...it's my time to find the best of me...now THAT deserves a lighter in the air.

Love Addiction

Love addiction. If there is such a thing...I think I've hit rock bottom. I'm achy, sore and just plain out of sorts. In the earlier phases of addiction, I have existed in euphoric spaces and times. Back when he and I shared the same vibe, even if not at the right time. Back when I could look in his eyes and know that, in that moment, those words were his truth. Back when I was able to make myself completely vulnerable, despite the odds being against me. I was fully willing to take the risks and follow my need for the fix of him. All things that we are addicted to are not bad things...they just become bad for us when we know we can't/shouldn't have them, yet we can't seem to moderate and control our need for or use of them.

When we finally decide to admit our addiction...hi, my name is Love-hunger and I'm an addict...we make a conscious decision to get on the wagon and away from whatever it is that is the focus of our addiction. It's cold turkey. No in-betweens. I told him, we can't do the friend thing. I can't do the friend thing. As much as I adored him and his friendship, any contact - even the kind disguised as platonic interaction - would only magnify my desire for him and us more. No hits for druggies, no sips for alcoholics, no contact for me.

Every so often, I would think about leaning off the wagon, just a little bit. And every so often, I would, very carefully, hold on to the side and lean over. Perhaps I can handle it. A little contact never hurt nobody, right?? Ha. I consider myself to be relatively intelligent, but the smartest of us can even be fooled by our own selves. That tricky girl...talking me into a quick text, email or phone call. And look at me...falling for it every time.

I think we only 'wake-up' when something drastic happens. When drug addicts get high, overdose and almost die. When alcoholics get behind the wheel of the car and end up hurting someone else. When the focus of a love addict's attention decides to marry someone else. Damn. Rock bottom. Didn't see this one coming. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Sadness. Acceptance.

So, I lay down here, looking up and don't really know what the next step is. I have some anger. Some sadness and disappointment. Some confusion...trying to understand what I missed. I'm assuming I don't have acceptance if I still have all the before-mentioned feelings, right? Not sure if there are 12-step programs for this, but if there are, somebody give me a name tag and a Sharpie because this hurt is for the birds...sigh...

Good times...

Every so often you have one of those weekends that is full of the good stuff. This was one of those weekends. Friday night we celebrated my girl's birthday. Good friends, good food, good conversation....and even a bit of irony for kicks. This guy that the birthday girl had talked about fixing me up with some months ago, came through. Not bad looking at all...but had slight undertones of corniness. Anyway, the old potential fix-up guy and one of my other girls ended up hitting it off, at least for the night..lol, seemingly quite well. When another friend asked me, in so many words, if I was bothered by it...I said, not at all. The way I see it, he just wasn't for me. As for my girl who ended up interacting with him...she got what she needed and possibly peeped the scene enough for all of us to know that this was no major loss for any of us. Nice save! lol.

Saturday the family had a good old-fashioned cookout in celebration of achievements. Despite the torrential downpours and weather that seemed to indicate the second coming, everything turned out well. Cookout food always does the soul good! A few friends came through that I always love spending time with. So, we got to hang out, laugh, catch up and play a couple of spirited rounds of a Taboo-like game involving describing and guessing. Completely hilarious...with me breaking out in contagious chants of 'Attica! Attica!' when I felt the other team was cheating...lololol.

Later on that evening, I had to break away from the game to get dressed to go to an organization function. Was having too much fun and didn't want to go, but I eventually sucked it up and got ready. I felt like such a pretty-girl with the fam and friends smiling when I came back downstairs all glammed up. Nice. I felt like it was prom...lol...I was taking pictures in my dress with folks before I left. Anyway, finally made it to the function, two hours late, and hung out for the remaining 2 hours. The DJ was actually quite nice, but don't think I would've missed anything had I not shown up...except for the fact that my agreed upon date for the evening would've have been left by himself. He's still talking about me for being that late...lol. I think I owe him two hours now. :)

Sunday morning I made it to the early service at church and the message was on point. Love that. Sunday afternoon, my rec team FINALLY won a game (and tied one too)! WOOOO HOOOO!!!! It's been a long time coming, but we finally made it to the other side. This is only our second season playing in this league, and while we have quite an athletic squad, the win had been quite elusive. Nevertheless, we found it on Sunday. Post-win found my team at the division bar celebrating. A handful of team drinks later, the events just kept getting funnier and funnier. I almost caught a back cramp from laughing so hard...yes, a back cramp...that's serious...lol. My team is great.

By the end of the evening, I was exhausted from the weekend and playing outside in the heat all day. Luckily, I didn't have to go to work Monday, which made the weekend all the better. Although, now that I'm sitting here after midnight, Tuesday's going to be a long day...lol. But, it's cool, cause the weekend was nothing but good times...so that should at least push me through to the next one... :-D

Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM

Okay so...I was watching what is becoming one of my new favorite shows....How I Met Your Mother. Great show...check it out, Mondays at 8:30 pm. The underlying theme of tonight's show was how one of the character's mother always said that nothing good happens after 2 am. And I'm sitting there watching the show thinking, how true!! These are truly words to live by. Nothing good happens after 2 am. I was thinking how any decisions you make after that hour are usually lacking in rationale. Any actions that you make after that hour are usually lacking in restraint. I've made some shaky choices in the wee hours of the morning. Allowed some less than reputable things to go down in the early morn. In this technology age, we have even more ways to act up. Picking up the cell to make the call. Sending an inappropriate text starting with a seemingly innocent You up? Catching someone online and saying things on IM that you would never say in person. The opportunities for after hours foolishness are everywhere. And I guess we all have succumbed to it at some point and in some way. But, things change. We grow up, mature, change our views, put ourselves in less risky situations and allow less silly stuff to go on. (Hopefully.) So, I'm officially adopting the theme of the show as one of my newest life rules.

Because let's face it...Nothing good happens after 2 AM. Just go to sleep.

Easier Said Than Done

Okay so...I've usually been a proponent of 'honesty is the best policy.' I think folks should be upfront, clear and forward with how they feel. And this is what I pass on to my guy friends when they tell me the tales of the woman that just won't go away. She may be nice enough or she may be crazy or any number of things in between. But, either way, they claim they don't want to be in a relationship with or hang out with or mislead them. So, I always simply say, Well...did you tell them that?? I tell them how they can't expect someone to go away or to know that they aren't interested in them in the same ways without you directly coming out and saying so. I joke with them about being scared of the woman or sometimes I dole out tough love telling them that should either just come out and say it or stop complaining about her being around. But, as I've come to find out, it's not always so easy to do. I am still a strong advocate for clear and direct, but I know that it may not always be so black and white.

I found myself in a similar situation where one of my guy friends appears and acts as though he is interested in somewhat more than I am. And while I genuinely like him and enjoying hanging out with him and all that, I have no inclination for something more than that. It has gotten me in precarious situations that are sometimes a little difficult to get out of. So, I'm thinking to myself that I have to do something about this. I have to tell him that I'm not interested in our friendship going in that direction. I don't want to hurt his feelings. I don't want to lose the coolness of our friendship. I'd like for us to still hang out and have fun. I don't want things to be awkward. Hmmm...so I guess it's not as easy as I thought it should be. Now, the guy is not by any means in love with me or falling me around with an engagement ring, I just know that there are some directions that he's interested in going with me that I'm not with him. What to do? What to say? How can I clearly express my feelings on what I do and don't want without hurting his feelings or bruising his ego or losing the friendship? I guess there are no guarantees on the outcome. But, the friendship could take a bad turn if I don't say something on this end. So, although it turns out that this is much easier said than done, I still have to do it, huh?

Man. I guess I'll have to grant pardons to all my boys who have been recipients of my tough love 'just be a man and tell her' speeches. At least this time. Lol. Not to worry though, I'm sure they'll come up with some other reason for me to step up on the friend-girl soapbox to dish out some helpful hints.

You Don't Send Me Flowers

Okay so...I've never been a girl who needed grand romantic gestures or expensive gifts to keep me happy. Thoughtfulness does rate high on my appreciation list however, so I do enjoy thoughtful, considerate, kind and surprise gestures. But, one of the things that I've always had this little thing for...and this may seem silly...is someone sending me flowers at my job. I don't know why...maybe I saw it in a movie once or read it in a book, but I've always wanted to get a call from the front desk saying that I had a package and then to my surprise, it turns out to be flowers! I've talked about it enough over the years that my best friend took pity on me and sent me tulips one year...lol. Well, fast forward to the present...on Monday I was sitting at my desk, maybe working, when my coworker calls to tell me I have a package. I'm thinking...I wasn't expecting anything, but maybe someone sent me updated plans for one of my projects or something. I walk to the front to see what it is (looking right past a beautiful bouquet of red roses in a vase sitting on the counter). "So, where's my package," I ask her. She laughs. "Right there on the counter...it's the roses!" Confused much more than I should be, "Huh? Those are for me??" She laughed again, "Now, if you don't want them...I'll take them off your hands!" Finally I get the picture, pick up the roses and head back to my desk. Considering it wasn't a holiday or my birthday nor do I have a boyfriend nor am I really even dating anyone at this time, I hadn't a clue who might have sent them. I finally read the card when I get back to my desk. The card reads something like...Just wanted you to know I thought about you today. A perfect little card for the perfect roses for the perfect office delivery. And on a normal ol' Monday morning. How perfect! Well...almost. While I greatly appreciated the flowers and loved the gesture, the man who sent them is not someone I'm interested in. A very nice guy with pretty clear intentions, yet for me, there's no reciprocity of pursuit. So, as the roses sat on the ledge in front of the window in my cubie, I immediately begin to think about the implications of these pretty flowers. What did he want? Had we not just previously discussed just being friends? Would there be more to come? Would he go overboard with gifts? So on and so forth. I eventually got back to work, occassionally staring at the beauty of the flowers and smiling. When I left work, I left the flowers on the window sill to greet me in the morning. On my way home I was telling my sister about the bouquet delivery and how I was wondering what it implied and what I might need to be concerned about. I went on to talk about I was talked about someone sending me flowers at work, yet when I got them, I was trying to ask a million questions. Then I wondered aloud if this was some kind of sign from God that this man really was the one for me or something....despite the fact that I haven't a single tinge of anything for him. I know...crazy, right? So finally my sis mercifully stops my paranoid rant. She pointed out that although I've always talked about getting flowers at work, the actual occurrence of it did not mean that God was sending down some declaration of my soul mate. Rather, it was simply the kind, thoughtful, surprising gesture that I'd wanted. The sender of the flowers wasn't so much the important thing in this case. It was the beauty of the flowers as they sat in my window sill and the joy that I got upon realizing that someone had sent ME flowers of their own free desire. How very true. I began to appreciate the flowers in a much simpler way...unclouded by nonsense questions and concerns regarding the in depth meaning of each petal. After all, they were just roses. Just pretty red roses. For me. When I went to work the next morning, the petals had begun to open up and I pulled opened the shades to expose them to the full sunlight. Absolutely beautiful. I sat down, opened up my email and giggled...someone sent me flowers!

Release Me

Okay so...I went to church last night for Wednesday night service. The speaker's general topic was forgiveness. He spoke dynamically about the power of forgiveness. He dealt extensively with the importance of understanding that forgiveness typically does more for the forgiver than for the one which is being forgiven. When we choose not to forgive, but instead carry around grudges, anger, hate and the like, that burden exists with us. It is a weight that we continue to carry whether the other person or persons involved care or think anything about it. And I thought to myself...how true! When I think of those that I believe have wronged or hurt me in some way, I tend to become irritable or angry or sad all over again. That is my weight. My burden. Not theirs. That is taking up space in my heart that could be otherwise occupied by something better and greater. The British/English equivalent of forgive/forgiveness is release. Release the pain. Release the anger. Release the hurt. Release the resentment. And eventually, release the burden. The concept makes perfect sense to me. Now, I just have to figure out how to do it. Can I give that which was not asked? If those who have wronged me have never apologized and asked me to forgive them, can I truly do so? Presumably, the answer is yes. If it were not, that would mean that everyone we come in contact with would have the master controls over our lives and hearts. I can't be turning 50 and still talking about how some girl spread rumors about me when I was 15 and never apologized! Forgiveness is really independent of he or she who is to be forgiven. The power of forgiveness rests in the hands of he or she who does the act of forgiving. There is no need for confession or confirmation or approval on anyone else's part. We could wait and waste a lifetime on hoping someone else will recognize and own up to the fact that they have done us wrong. But, clearly, a lifetime is far too long to be "unreleased." To release is to let go. To release is to free. To release is to find ease. To release is find peace. So, to the little hardened corners of hurt, anger and resentment I own, I say simply, RELEASE ME.

(Sounds good, huh? This puts me on what I'm sure is like a 100 step plan to forgiveness...lol. I would look for a forgiveness class to take somewhere...but, I already have one...church...)

Don't Forget Your Coat

Okay so...I'm on my way to work yesterday morning, leaving on time for once. It's a little cold and windy in the AM, but the day promises to warm up a little later on. The kids are wrapped up and walking to school...at least most of them. There are little ones in coats, a few with hats and gloves. Some are visibly a little chilly and I wonder who sent them out without a warmer coat this morning. But, the warmer coat quickly became a passing thought as a passed one little miss who was clad in a jean mini, fitted sweater and short boots. Not only did my internal question become, where's your coat, but...where are the rest of your clothes?? Followed by the question of who let her out the house in that? I mean, I'm all for letting your kids express themselves and choose their style and all that, but this was just too much. I'm guessing, at most, she had to be maybe 11 or 12. And I'm envisioning the mama, okay maybe MY mama, at the door as she walks out saying, ummm...where do you think you're going in THAT? I understand that all parents aren't home when their kids leave for school to double check the outfits. But even still, why would those pieces of clothing even exist in a 12 year old's closet??? The kids are wearing too tight clothes, scandalous t-shirts, and many other things that likely have passed right under the nose of a parent or guardian. I don't have kids, so maybe I'm not allowed to speak on it. But, I'm saying...if they're dressing like this at this age...should we expect thongs and stillettos to be the accepted attire in a few years?

Speechless

Okay so...now that I have someplace to write, I have nothing to say. Had plenty on my mind a few hours ago but topics seem to escape me as I sit in front of a blank page. Isn't that always the way? Can't wait for lunch and then you're not hungry anymore. Can't wait to get in the bed and then you can't go to sleep. It's the ol' hurry up and wait. I guess since patience is a virtue that I'm working to make a little less elusive, I won't rush it...