11 posts tagged “spirituality”
With the exception of one last final exam I'm taking on Wednesday, the semester is over. I kinda feel liberated, but not fully. Next semester is only a math course and the internship - which the local paper still hasn't made their final decision on. Then graduation. It only took me....what...... ten years?
My brain...my body feels beat up. Like I've been in a street fight for the last few months. Every week it was a paper on this and a paper on that. Sometimes two to three papers a week! Surprisingly I received nothing lower than a "B" on each one. I won't even reiterate the reading assignments for this semester. Nevertheless I made it.
I zoomed to campus today to drop off my last and final paper. As I was coming home, an oldie but goodie Lauryn Hill song was playing; actually one of my favorites - "Everything Is Everything." I looooooooooooove the lyrics so it's not odd that the song always strikes a cord with me when I play it or some DJ is cutting it up. However, today part of the chorus reasonated with me in a very profound way.
"...after winter, must come spring. Change will come eventually."
I don't know where to begin with the emotional change that has taken place in my life. I do realize, for the longest time...pretty much all of my twenties I was in winter. Crazy as it seems, though I was born in winter - actually on the verge of a snow storm - it's not my favorite season. I'm alive and happiest in spring and summer. Still, imagine being stuck in winter mode during spring and summer. How can that be right? You want to sing out and be free and enjoy the sun, but inside you're cold and pretty much dead to the world. That's how I had been for much of my early adult life. Winter claimed residence.
Slowly I started making changes. Sometimes they were for the better, other times... maybe not, which left me stuck with winter lingering around a bit longer. The heaviest of emotional waves hit me ironically around the time when my home was going through renovations. My life, emotionally, seemed to parallel with the changes taking place to the house. What I haven't wrote about is the fact that though the renovations started in May 2008, they still aren't complete. We had a couple of stand stills, with the major one taking place last fall as permits had to be secured for the most major parts to be continued. We got the permits and the contractors were back at work. For a while things seemed to be moving right on schedule and then another long pause.
With 90 percent of the house finished no one is complaining, but the long pause really is no fault of our own. Unfortunately the recession hit our contractor VERY hard. He lost out on high paying contracts he had bidding for and pretty much had to rearrange his funds, probably even right down to his personal funds. He apologized profusely and really didn't want to leave my family nor his subcontractors out to dry as he did. It actually seemed that he too went into a depression state for a while as he and his family were on the verge of loosing their home.
As I said no one complained, since much of the work is completed. What's left are a few odds and ends, with only one major room left to completely renovate - my bedroom. I have my new bed and few other things, but haven't been able to set anything up because the room is still in total disarray with my parents' old furniture, clothes and things. There there are cracks along the walls (some from renovations some from aging) and peeling paint. Pretty much I've been the only one really inconvienced during this break. I may have grumbled about the mess when stubbing my baby toe on some piece of furniture, but in the end I'm just thankful I have a spot in the room to lay my head at night.
The pause came just before the summer broke in and just other day the contractor called and emailed to say he is back in business. He is looking to start finishing up with our home in January. When I first heard the news I was more concerned about him, hoping that his financial status was in order. Then I stopped for a moment and thought back to the parallel of progression. I can't explain it, but the timing seems to be right on the dime. Again as I'm coming in for the home stretch with school so is the completion of the house. Most of all my emotional outlook looks better and perhaps brighter than it had been before.
I still get stomped every now and then with some emotional wave coming out of left field, but overall I'm ok. I'm better. I feel spring coming around the corner.
It can be so easy to write a journal entry when things are sour. It's when I feel most compelled to pour everything out of my soul. My emotions are raw, but it's all out. Released. The end result is (sometimes) a better understanding of the situation or just a feeling of euphoria as feelings and thoughts are inked on record and out of my system. Yet, it's so rare that I actually take time to write about some of the fascinating or brighter spots. Even during the times that I do, I find myself tongue tied and my vox doesn't come out as raw or emotional as I like.
Noneoftheless, after weeks of neglecting my blog I'm finally finding some time to sit down, share and reflect on the latest happenings. What I'm glad to report is, I've been busy and bit happier than "normal." Even though the math class I've been made to repeat after not having algebra in my face for over 10 years has been challenging, but I'm trying to deal; tutor from the math lab and tutorial DVD that came with the text book.
As for what has been going on I'll guess I'll start with....
Home....
Things are fine and calm at home. My schedule at school isn't a bad one, but the time and energy spent on my work is completely draining. Thank God for my mom, for taking care of the Snickerdoodle while I tend to school and other matters. Sometimes I feel guilty for not being able to give the Snickerdoodle my immediate attention, but I do realize it's not the end of the world. I try to squeeze in every ounce of mother/daughter time that I can when I come home, but a lot of times it's not that simple as I have an assignment that needs to be done immediately. I figure my daughter is only 2. She'll forgive me.
Trust me when I say, I do cherish dinner time, bath time and (sometimes) bedtime. Bedtime is the hardest, because she is soooo like me; a night owl. She hates it when she has to retire for the evening. She'll cry and maybe ridiculously scream. I get frustrated as I try to work and she is fighting sleep. Somehow I manage to calm down before it gets too crazy and realize this is just motherhood. EVERY mother has gone through this. So I deal. Reading a bedtime story or maybe lingering in her bed for a moment or two until she is calm enough to drift to sleep.
My grandmother....
Since the passing of her husband in July, her life seems to be looking up. Her (pre) dementia hasn't been acting up as much. Though she still has glitches with her memory, she tries so hard to remember. She hasn't been depressed (as much). The only time she gets in a blue mood is when she allows unnecessary worries flood her thoughts. They are mainly concerns about the legalities of her late husband's estate. Some of the worry seems valid as his family wasn't the best of one. The attacks and betrayals against my grandmother were hurting to her, especially when she showed them nothing but love from the very beginning.
Nevertheless, my grandmother has been preparing to move from the late husband's house. While the estate is being worked on it's clear that his family is still trying to dig a hole for her, but in turn the hole will be for them. My grandmother is looking forward to the move and even got more excited the other day when she received a call that the house is just about ready and she can have a walk through next week.
I'm actually looking forward to helping on her moving day. This fresh start is something he truly needs. Maybe it will trickle down a bit into other parts of the family as well.
Freelance Project....
The launch of the magazine is less than a month. There is still much to be done including recruiting more writers. I get the feelings everything will fall into place, but I don't want this to fail. This is essentially a team effort and I don't want to fail in any way on my part. So what's left for me to do? Contact and respond to a few more interested writers, make an announcement on journalism sites, coordinate with other editor to have a budget (journalism term for story ideas/headlines/topics that will make in the publication) meeting and once stories are submitted, edit. It seems simple, but everything will go so fast and hectic, especially the closer it is to launch time.
Yet I love it!
Papi...
Things between us are going soooo well. In the midst of our busy lives, we always find time to go out and have fun. Our latest venture was something on my part. I had two invites for this past Wednesday Congressional Black Caucus reception given by the city council at The Park on 14th. I invited Papi and course he had no idea what I had gotten him into. It was nice to get all dressed up to mix and mingle for a while. Actually we arrived a bit late, so we missed the small presentation, but he still he got to meet some of my political connects except for the biggest one of all....YA. The place was crowded... utter madness. We stayed for like an hour and some change, before we decided to go eat.
We finally made our way to Eatonville and I'm still raving about the shrimp and crawfish ettoufe. LOOOOOOVES IT!
Church, School and Spirituality....
My pastor and I finally did get to talk about the newsletter he wants me to revive. He understood fully that my plate is basically full until December. We concluded we would follow up in December and prepare for a January (re) launch of the church's newsletter.
For the first time in a long while, I've been attending church on the regular. Actually, some of the spiritual lessons from church that I've been receiving I've been incorporating into thought from discussions I have in my creative writing class. I'm so glad I was able to get in another class taught by Tony Medina. Though, I'm the oldest one amongst my classmates, the discussions does make me pause for a moment and ponder amongst the banter between the 19, 20 and 21 year olds that are in the class.
Last week, a simple topic turned really heavy as we discussed an Albert Einstein quote - "Imagination is more valuable than knowledge."
We argued the points imagination verses knowledge and somehow ended up on Christianity. Actually I know how we ended up there, but that's a different journal entry altogether. Yet it perplexed me that within that same week I had a dream that stuck with me until I looked up the symbols that stood out the most.
The dream found me in Egypt where I was with a group lead by another professor of mine (in reality that particular professor takes a group of students to Egypt every year and last week he did mention next years trip in class). Somehow, I and two women who were roughly ten years older than me were drifting away from the group in a raft. The group noticed we were drifting and tried everything in vain to save us, but we were drifting away fast. What perplexed me was how we were surrounded by nothing but water, but I didn't have any fears. I knew we were going to be alright. The dream flipped to where we are being pulled to land, but we don't actually walk on land. We are in water, like in a pool. The water is very light blue and clear enough for me to see tiles at bottom and on the side of the pool. The tiles are white trimmed with gold.
People are talking/interviewing us, asking were we scared about being along at sea. I let the other two women talk about the incident, but someone asked me was I scared and I said no. The dream seems to flip again as folks, especially the people from whatever group I was with, were rushing back to their "hotel" rooms to change for a ceremony. I don't rush back, but what I find is, everyone is staying in this dormitory. Everyone has changed and rushes to this great hall that looks more like a cathedral sanctuary. I arrive to the ceremony and spot a couple of folks I knew from high school. I'm guessing I'm in the balcony section because I'm looking down and the ceremony has started and it's this formal protocol service for a king of some African nation.
I looked up the symbols and began to put the puzzle together.
Egypt: Roots or core of your own emotion/spirituality. May also suggest a simpler time.
Raft drifting/floating: Unsure where you're headed to. Confused on purpose & direction in life.
White (the tiles): Purity, perfection, peace, innocence, dignity, cleanliness, awareness, new beginning. Also may indicate mourning/death.
Gold (the tiles): Wealth, riches, natural healing, illumination and/or spirituality.
Dorm: Value placed on knowledge and education. Believe that you are always learning, and not just in a classroom.
Ceremony: Sacrifice and devotion necessary for success. Maybe going through a crucial moment in life that requires commitment. It's a time for introspection, self discovery and inner changes.
Last night as I caught the rerun of Oprah's interview with rapper Jay-Z, one thing that stood out was how Oprah made the comment that neither of their paths of "fame and fortune" were something they foresaw. There was no clear vision for it all. Of course Jay agreed and pretty much said that it was all about the passion and hard work he was willing to put in to making music - which of course opened doors for his business to spread into the fashion, restaurant/club and sports industries.
Not to sound redundant or like plenty of others who have said this, but I absolutely believe I was not meant to be the so-called average or ordinary person - as I see it. However, the reality of finally being done with my undergraduate studies is drawing near and it's a bit scary, because again I feel as if I'm faced with I don't know where I'm going to land; which could explain the drifting away from the group on a raft. Yet, the interesting thing is I'm not as scared as I was when I left the federal government five years ago. I do feel some ease but what has me on edge are the journalism tasks I have before me.
Last semester was the ultimate boot camp I needed to refresh my skills. However, this current project, launching a NATIONAL publication, IS my ceremony. I feel this is the moment that will truly make or break me. Even still, as I'm finding myself falling in love with journalism all over again I've been giving some serious thought about attending graduate school for it. Before my attitude has been that you really don't need a masters in journalism, since it has always been believed that everything about the field you learn, you learn by being hands on with it. However, the industry has changed sooooooooo much! A lot of old journalism standards are being chucked away to make room for "new media."
So with that.. it wouldn't hurt to have a masters... would it? I'm guessing this is why the dorm was in my dream and actually before the ceremony. Ah! Maybe it's my big hint that I should go to graduate school!
Though I'm into the journalism world, I also consider myself an artist as I do write creatively and have shared my work and been published. Yet, in some of what I write I see a constant struggle to write with a connection to my spirituality verses writing for the sake of writing. When I write for the sake of it I loose focus, find myself imbalanced and uninterested.. which leads to droughts. I hate it in every sense because I feel lost. There have been times when I've been so connected that when after I had written something, reread it and have others look at it.. every immediate reaction has been a speechless or one word of utter shock.
It's a "Where did THAT come from moment?"
I haven't had that moment in a really long time and I yearn for it, because those are the moments when I feel so connected to God. I think in a lot of ways this creative writing class is helping me to get to the core of it all. After all, the assignment due for Tuesday is to write a writer's creed based on why I write. This, perhaps, is my Egypt; this time and space. This is helping me get to the core of my emotion and spirituality.
Yesterday while on my way to campus I played my Madonna "Ray of Light" cd. I forgot how much I loved that album, especially the song "Swim." Since having those dreams nearly a year ago about swimming, I've been comparing this part of my journey to swimming, immersing myself in all the untouched emotions I either brushed away or totally blocked to avoid some kind of hurt and just dealing with them and washing myself clean from them. For the most part I have, which why I can only believe there is a strong meaning behind the Egypt dream with me ending up in a clear bluish pool of water looking at the tiles on the bottom and the side.
In a way I do feel as if I represent both meaning of the white tiles. There is this sense of new awareness, but there is also this sense of mourning as a couple of folks I thought would be in this part of my life aren't. But it's okay. It's all about growth. The meaning behind the gold tiles is interesting. How deep will this richness go?
All I ask is that the Lord doesn't stop blessing me and sticking with me. May I stay focused and able see my work through
This is bad. Either I am really a slave to my distractions or I REALLY have ADD. It's the third week of school and I'm behind. Not really behind, but behind enough that if I procrastinate any longer I'll be in a hole. I'm worried that with this final semester I'm cramming too much. The schedule really isn't that bad considering I'm taking 19 credit hours. I just need to find some kind of balance in my "free" time.
I can easily blame motherhood, but that's only a partial blame - if you will. Currently the Snickerdoodle is sleep, and I've been having a hard time focusing on a task. A simple task that I had originally committed myself to completing last week. This is bad and I feel bad that I've acquired this acute "senioritis." I fight to push through it, but phsyically I'm wiped out. Between the walking up the [very] steep hill(s) on campus going from class to class, to coming home to attend to family matters and other side things I may need to take care of; i.e. running errands, I'm phsyically pooped and needing, wanting sleep.
Granted, it's not like I haven't done any work since school started, but it's just the minimum and slightly lower.
This is bad. It can't be like this.
A couple of weeks ago in church, I went to the alter laying my burden of school down before the Lord. All I asked was for help to keep me sane and strong to get through this last semester. So it is here, on this virtual page, that I ask the Lord to help keep me lifted and motivated. May I find peace and balance in this hectic semester.
I can not and WILL NOT go back to those early days of exhulstion and depression.
My spiritual journey has been one of highs and lows. Perhaps the reason it hasn't been a constant plane is out of my own stubborn and controlling ways to which I haven't given up my full trust and completely rely on my faith. There have been moments when I have just released myself, but more likely only after hitting rock bottom or out of my own hard headedness God has brought forth huge road blocks or signs to get my attention.
In regards to my writing, it has become evident and I'll admit, I haven't been using it to my full potential. Some time ago I realized I didn't want to be writing just for the sake of it; creative or journalism wise. I always wanted to use this gift for the benefit of the greater good. I believe it's time to "put the money where my mouth is" sorta speak. Since returning to school, I challenged myself to be a bit more disciplined in my journalism studies, regular studies and even in my creative writing. Last semester, through the rigorous finale of my journalism courses I stuck it out and saw the fruits of my labor. Not monetary wise, but in the satisfied looks and comments from my sources that I interviewed, my professor(s), my peers and myself.
Last semester knocked the wind out of me and I spent much of the summer on cruise control. While I did produced a few more [freelance] articles, I felt spent and needed to breathe for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because by the start this semester I found myself hitting the ground running in finishing up these last courses for my minor - African American Studies - before being declared a graduate. However, not before the end of the summer one of my journalism professors [an editor of a major magazine] tapped me to join in on a [paid] project; launching a national publication that will be operated by and through the school. Of course I jumped on board, but only to feel a little lost over the summer in my duties, since we're starting from the ground up.
As school started two weeks ago, I met with the professor and another young lady on board for the project. We hashed out our ideas, discussed the foundation that started forming before the end of last semester and the next phase of moving things through. After the meeting I felt so energized and excited, but even still I have slacked [not intentionally] in getting my part done at the moment. My semester is chock-full of writing and reading. Not to mention, coming home to a two-year-old that loves your attention after haven't seen you all day long on two days of the week and half a day on the rest of the days. So I'm struggling a bit in finding a balance. Right now my brain feels a bit helter skelter.
Even in the midst of this, another call has been extended to me. God via my pastor is calling. Many moons ago - well maybe not that long ago - I worked on the "newsletter ministry" at my church. My pastor caught wind that I was in school for journalism and thought it would be a good idea for me to serve as editor of the newsletter. At the time I was only 20 and worked with a team of folks that were much older than me. In the end, some folks had issues with my decisions about certain things and though I tried to work with them it got nasty. Like - I'm sending you an email and CCing the pastor nasty. So I quit the ministry and the newsletter was defunct for a while. It was revived again sometime later but didn't last long.
Since the time I quit my mother has been on me about reviving the newsletter for the church. So nearly three weeks ago when she told me the pastor wanted me to call him about the newsletter, I thought it was another ploy my mother was pulling to make her thoughts known. Just in case, I did call the pastor, but not immediately though; try three days later. I know.. bad.
Nevertheless, I was faced with his voicemail inbox, so I left a message. A couple of days later my mother asked had I called. I told her I did and left a message. Her voice was laced with an urgent tone as she scrolled through her blackberry to pull up the pastor's cell number.
"He REALLY wants you on this. Call his cell. Don't call the church."
Without protest my mother's Blackberry was pressed up against my ear as my pastor's phone rang once and went to yet another voicemail greeting. I left another message. As that week's Sunday came upon me, I went to church. I went up for alter call and the pastor spotted me, leaned into me and pretty much affirmed that he did need to speak with me when I had a moment. The end of church was hectic with people all around and my daughter getting a bit fussy because it was near lunchtime. So I left before having the needed conversation with my pastor.
Today after church I went up to speak with pastor. Ironically today's sermon was about discipleship and going forth to spread/teach the word and message of God via however you are lead to do so, or moreso using the gifts/resources/talents/calling that God has bestowed upon you. I had already made up my mind that reviving the newsletter would have to wait until January, when I'm done with school for good. I mentioned this to my pastor today. He had a slight disappointed look, but then told me he was hoping to see something around November, but if he had to wait until January he would, because he didn't want to interrupt my school-work. I told him I would see what I could do. Just before I bid him a good rest of the day, he turned to me and told me that he really wanted me to work on this for the church.
So many times I hear talk about being obedient to the word... being obedient to God period. Part of me believes this isn't some random coincidence that projects are coming my way and even something pertaining to my church home. I do believe it's all about helping me further grow in this realm of writing and even as a person. However, when it came to my church I've been wrestling for the longest about feeling out of place. My church is the same church I grew up in. My parents were married there, I was dedicated and baptized there. I sang in the choir, been on many retreats, fellowshipped in many ways with my extended family - my church family. Still, at some point of my adult life I felt out of sorts or out of place and lost as times were changing inside the church and even with me.
My current spiritual journey has been one of baby steps, prayer and me trying to be disciplined with a lot of things. Which is why the other part of me is still the fearful me; me fearing failure - the insecure me that still creeps up. Now that I know in the past I wasn't [fully] ready with some of my journalistic/creative endeavors, I'm nervous. Unsure if this time I'm ready. Deep down I feel that I'm ready, but on the surface I still feel like such a novice.
A couple months ago I posted a status on Facebook mentioning how I felt like such a novice. It generated a few comments, one in particular came from Brandon.
"You're not a novice, but at the same time, you're always learning. When you get to a point where you think you know everything, that's when you don't flourish."
I feel it's time to flourish. So I guess it's time to be obedient. Learn through trial and error. After all, that's the only way to grow. Now if I can only completely kick these insecurities and fears of succeeding out of my life. *umph*
Through the rainy weather, my 2 year-old's busy body-ness, and finding the right dress to wear in quasi-renovation mess, I made it to church. As usual, when I arrived and stepped into the sacred space I felt at home. After all it's only the church I grew up in. Still having big gaps in my attendance, it's not hard for me to feel like a "newbie" in my own church, even if I do know all the "secret" passage ways or back steps to move to all three levels.
Today, not having enough patience to have the busy body of the Snickerdoodle sit with me during service, I took my mother's suggestion from the night before. I placed her downstairs in the "children's church." For her age group, the chaperons were folks I know well of course, but one looked at me as if she had no clue who I was. Guess I've really be gone. Another recognized me right away and immediately began to "make friends" with the Snickerdoodle. At first she wasn't having it. It didn't matter if other children her age were in the room and eating snacks, my Snickerdoodle didn't want any parts. It took a passing member of the "security ministry" to drop in and coax my daughter into staying. With my help of pulling out her juice and small baggie of animal crackers I prepared for her, it worked! She took a seat and began to make her presence know by talking to everyone in the room.
I slipped out and went upstairs to the sanctuary. For a while I couldn't get into the service for being nervous about the Snickerdoodle. What if she needed me, would they be able to find me in the sanctuary? A couple of time I even thought that deacons and ushers standing in the cove area were looking for me as I spotted them staring in my direction ---- clearly on the other side of the church. However, I began to relax once I realized I was acting silly and I needed to calm my mini trip down paranoid lane down.
The pastor was underway in starting with the word or the message for the day. As he spoke on a parable found in Luke, about a rich man who had EVERYTHING and God commanded him to sell EVERYTHING to the poor because he lacked one thing, I found myself in a tug of war with my thoughts. I wondered just how pure my heart is in thinking and executing things. I mean well, but how often is it that my good intentions aren't all what they seem?
I recognize there a couple of things I've been dealing with in my own heart and mind. What kills me is how obsessive I have been about it, to the point where my pure thoughts may turn into venom guised as good intentions. That's awful, but it's been happening. Thankfully it's all thoughts and no actions. I'm going to be in prayer about this, because really this is just not a good thing to be harboring.
What's been lingering in my heart and mind, I've been trying to figure out how to stop obsessing over them. I want to pull away completely, but how do I do so without hurting potential innocent bystanders? Again... I need to be in prayer about this.
For the most part, this phase of my transition still feels a bit heavy. I'm still "swimming," not sure when I will surface. Interesting enough, I had a creepy dream a few days ago. Don't remember all of it, but the main part was finding out that a close friend of mine had died. I couldn't get to him, not even to the funeral. In the dream I was calm but I still tried to get to him, maybe even feeling a bit guilty for not being there fully for him since he lives in another state. Yet when I woke up, I wasn't disturbed by the dream. It was fresh and very vivid in my mind when I immediately awoke, but still... I was calm and unmoved.
In reality, my friend Mr. Sigma who lives in Miami, was recently in the hospital going through surgery. I didn't know he was back in the hospital (he battles diabetes and is in and out the hospital often) until after the fact. Still in light of that situation, I didn't take my dream too literal. Though I did question Mr. Sigma's health, I kind of looked at it from the perspective that some part of my past is dying or is dead. I was trying to think of anything from my past that I feel guilty about because I couldn't save it. A few things came to mind. No exact moment or situation.
I didn't go up to the alter for alter call near the end of church service. Part of me wanted to, but the other part felt paralyzed. So I prayed in my pew. Benediction soon followed and after showing love to individual church family members, I whisked down the back steps to the lower level. I picked up the Snickerdoodle (who put on a pitiful face when she saw me despite a report that she talked and was friendly the whole time) from children's church, I left the building and headed home.
The rest of the day was fairly quiet as I helped the family cook tonight's dinner and managed to squeeze in a nap. At some point today, all I could think about was growing new skin as I turn 30. This skin has been morphing a long time, can't wait to see the result, come the end of this year.
It's safe to say that I, like millions of others, find myself in shock and speechless about yesterday's passing of Michael Jackson. What's crazy is I use to "fear" this day. Meaning, I use to wonder what the WORLD would do in reaction to the news of a Michael Jackson death. I seriously use to wonder about this as a kid. I suspect that Michael Jackson's funeral (at least memorial service) will be very public and world wide. I wouldn't even be surprised if he received some kind of "state" funeral (or something like it) with accolades galore."
I'm an 80's baby. So I never got to experience "Little Michael" say like someone in my aunt's generation, who use to play her Jackson 5 albums to death; especially the song "ABC." When I came on the scene it was merely on the heels of his "Off the Wall" album and "Thriller" was not long behind. The rest [as they say] is HIStory. Fortunately I grew up in the era of Michael's "glory" days, when he was solidfied and a bonifide pop icon. So I feel rightful in standing in line with millions of others and make the claim I grew up with and on Michael Jackson. Though I never been to a Michael Jackson concert, I have the video footage from documentaries and such on his life that show the crying and overwhelmed fans passing out and being carried out at the shows. It WAS that deep...at least for them.
Obviously, I didn't know Michael personally or any of the Jacksons for that matter, but still my heart has been feeling kind of heavy. This week has caught me off gaurd completely, but it's more than Michael's death and even the deaths of TV personality Ed McMahon who passed earlier this week and actress Farrah Fawcett who passed hours earlier before Michael after a long fight with anal cancer. Maybe what rattled me this week was the unbelievable and indescribable local news (that went national) of the two red line metro transit trains that collided. Dozens were injured and nine people parished; two included a retired general and his wife my father knew from The Gaurd. Maybe what really did it was news of my next door neighbor, who was entering his home and was jumped on by some teens and pistol whipped in an attempted robbery the other night, while I've been in the house alone with my 2 year old for nearly two weeks now.
Nevertheless, in wake of the recent events, I can't help but feel reminded and faced dead on with the reality of immortality. On the day of the train accident, a fellow school-mate of mine (who is in his early 20's) updated his Facebook status to say he was on one of the trains in the accident, but wasn't injured, just in shock. Someone responded to his comment with "it wasn't your time." Yesterday I thought to how Farah Fawcett was determined to beat her cancer and looked forward to a victory of living cancer free. Her plans took her as far as Germany where she met and had a team of doctors working with her on the latest treaments unknown or unauthorized in The States. Then I thought how Michael Jackson came out this passed March to proclaim his final curtain call will be concluding with a series of concerts given in London scheduled for this coming July. How odd is it that Michael Jackson and the unsuspecting folks in the Metro accident made their own plans - like the 23 year-old mother and owner of a beauty salon leaving work and was on the train in route planning to pick up her kids - but God had another plan....
That seems to be the nature of human beings, always planning and strategizing in an effort to control our life. Yet something more powerful than us is in control and sadly it always takes something so catastrophic, such as the trifecta of death, to point this out.
Curious to know other thoughts concerning Michael's death, I did something I haven't done in months. I looked up a former friend's blog as she has been documenting her Christian/spiritual journey. I was curious to know her spin on this and to see another Christian's perspective on the recent nationalized deaths of three celebrities and the nine local, everyday people who were lost in the train wreck (especially, since she rides that exact line and route to and from work). Nothing posted on current events, but instead I stumbled upont her entry "At a Crossroads," where she breaks down four different roads people take in life.
1. The Yellow Brick Road: where she states the obvious of how people who have "made it" or reached a level of success and think it's all God, but really it's a faux life. Meaning, people who reach this status have all the materialistic gains of such a life, but there is still a void, because God isn't fully (if at all) in their lives. She qoutes Psalm 14:12 (NIV) - "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to destruction."
2. The Road to Nowhere: here she breaks down how this describes people who are stuck right at the their crossroads in life. Instead of making a move they sit and spectate and acutally maybe comfortable in during so. She quotes: Leviticus 26: 13-20 (NIV) - "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt so that you would no longer be slaves to the Egyptians; I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high.
'But if you will not listen to me and carry out all these commands, and if you reject my decrees and abhor my laws and fail to carry out all my commands and so violate my covenant, then I will do this to you: I will bring upon you sudden terror, wasting diseases and fever that will destroy your sight and drain away your life. You will plant seed in vain, because your enemies will eat it. I will set my face against you so that you will be defeated by your enemies; those who hate you will rule over you, and you will flee even when no one is pursuing you. "
'If after all this you will not listen to me, I will punish you for your sins seven times over. I will break down your stubborn pride and make the sky above you like iron and the ground beneath you like bronze. Your strength will be spent in vain, because your soil will not yield its crops, nor will the trees of the land yield their fruit."
3. The Road of Darkness: here she talks about the folks who basically get to their crossroads and walk backwards in their life journey. They may even reject the word of God; the "mentally and spiritually screwed up" as she refers to such individuals. She quotes Romans 1:28 (NIV) - "Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done. "
4. The Road to Enternal Life: basically this is the life in which God has you in His care, if you choose Him and this road. Ironically she quoted a verse that I have kept close to me ever since my Aunt VJ preached on it (the whole chapter) during her initial sermon a year ago - also the day after her (step) son's passing. It was such an emotional and bittersweet moment in my life. Deutoronomy 30:19 (NIV) - "I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live."
How surreal this keeps coming up in my life?
Recently I had the opportunity to interview a talented, business savy, indpendently produced singer for an online music publication. My conversation with her felt so reaffirmming and pretty much a testimony to what she has accomplished in her life and continues to do so.What's even more admirable is that she is working with TWO callings on her life, but has been blessed beyond words can imagine to connect the two and make it work; teaching students with special needs AND singing/performing. After my conversation with her and eventually writing up the article I found myself wishing to be something like her.. so confident and walking with that stride of I-may-look-as-if-I'm-in control-but-God-has-it.. totally. It was the same confidence I saw oozing from Ledisi a couple of weeks ago at the Carter Barron, when she proclaimed that she was "taking you to church in the juke joint." And she did... really. Granted I don't know these singers on a personal level, so I don't know all their struggles and dealings, but it's not hard to see when someone is oozing with that I-got-God confidence and REALLY have it.. I mean REALLY... you can FEEL IT!
I went back to a year ago to that March when Aunt VJ preached her sermon. This is what I had to say then:
Aunt VJ preached from the perspective of how folks can be the walking dead - living a life under the wrong spirit and allowing unnecessary suffering to enter. Choosing God allows life and light to come into your life and bring an unfounded peace. Life is different when you have divine peace. For me, her message actually coincided with my pastor's message from today - about unlikely candidates of being used/blessed by God. Earlier in the day I attended my own church and was hit with a reaffirming message that my life does have a purpose. Also, that pain is a part of life and the blessing in pain or hitting a deeper low is being built up. He used the analogy of tall buildings having a deeper foundation in order for it to be supported properly and able to withstand the strength it is built upon.
I would like the think the recent pains happening in my life - from dropping a friend, my grandmother's battle with depression and pre-dementia, becoming restless with this last stage of school, trying to remain sane and patient as a mother and a few other things - that a breaking point and a blessing is near, depending on me of course...if I choose to lean and stay with God. Why else would 2007 be the calm before the storm; even sending me WARNINGS via dreams about swimming and such. Then BAM! the latter part of 2008 and on into 2009 I'm right in the thick of things, shedding more skin, exposing all of me.. the good, bad and sometimes maybe the ugly. Cleansing. Swimming.
What's ironic is that part of the pain was loosing a connection to my former friend; so much so to the point where she stopped really caring and understanding because all she saw was "darkness" in me and I couldn't hack her sometimes true, but sometimes very off the mark observations about me. I think she wasn't ready, because she's never seen the worse of me, but I actually saw it coming. So I removed myself in hopes that it will give us a chance to both grow with God, but not together as a way of not to hinder since we're moving at a different pace. God is working on us differently.
I'm saying all of this to say that again my life has been jarred, but to the point where I don't want all that I do to be for the wrong reasons or even in vain. Going back to school, when I did, was RIGHT ON TIME. However, at the start of last semester I use to think it was the right time because it was my time (my plan of action), but as the semester moved forward I began to see it was the right time because it was God's time. I realized I wasn't ready to deal with the journalism/communications industry fully or to the point where I thought I was. The climate of the industry has changed dramatically with new media reporting coming in at a fast pace and being an all-in-one journalist is in high demand. It is only now that I'm finding out what I'm really made of and if this is one of the blessings or callings that God has for me or was this something that I planned on my life. Strangely, or maybe not so strange, moments ago I just received a phone call about participating in a project for next year to help set up a press conference. The grant and proposal was being written up as I spoke to the person working on the team. A bit nervous, but with excitement I said yes.
What's funny is that as much as I can't stand anyone with control issues, I have them too. I don't control others, but I try so damn hard to control my life. Honestly I should know better, especially given a few life events that I have been able to testify about where it wasn't me... it was God. This I know for sure.
Still, it's like the old saying "man makes plans and God laughs."
As for what I "wish" I had in regards to that confidence I witnessed a few days ago....
Ironic I stumbled about another proverb. I was digging in my laptop bag when I came across a slip of paper. It was a proverb another friend of mine would have at the bottom of his email as a signature. I liked it to much that I printed it out, cut the paper down to the quote and taped on my comuter at work when I was in the federal government.
It says, "Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect; it just means you've decided to see beyond the imperfections"
Though I love this proverb and its message I would like to think God's plan is bit more than that. That his ultimate goal is that being happy has to do with Him and with him, everything is perfect because He is with us.. He resides within us. I believe this is confidence is in me, but has been dormant for a while, probably cause I choose to by letting life get to me instead of seeking and leaning on God - continuously.
My crossroad(s) are filled with the four points as outline by my former friend. Unfortunately I've traveled down two of the roads mentioned; The yellow brick road and the road to nowhere. I don't believe I've been down the road of darkness. Granted I've had my bouts with depression, but I've always sought God but what probably didn't help were the times when I added my on imput, my control of the situation. The road to enternal life.... I stare at it and have I really started walking on it? What's funny is as I think about it.. I also think back to one of my new favorite cable shows... Nurse Jackie.
In the opening episode, Jackie is going on via monologue about how nurses are seen as saints and throwing in a little philosophy and theology behind it - especially when people know the difference between right and wrong. One line jumped out at me as Jackie basically rationalizations she knows what's right, but may opt to do the wrong thing in the name of morals. Then she concludes with "don't make me right just yet God." The whole monologue was kind of deep. Granted the show is fictional, whose main character is addicted to pain killers and having an affair, but what's weird is that I sometimes feel like that. As if I know what's right, but for whatever reason I fear I sometimes find myself saying something along those lines... "don't make me right just yet God." As if God is suppose to wait on me and work on my time and schedule. Again, control.
I believe this is what 2009 has been about for me. Recognizing my control issues (among other things) and eventually letting it go. What's the biggest thing I need to let go and relenquish control of? My pride.
Pride is such a hard thing to let go, especially when you used it to survive (your way) for a very long time. I could probably write a book about how my pride has helped, hindered and hurt me and those around me. It's an old friend that seems to be in permanent residence, perhaps hindering me from walking that enternal life road.
Nevertheless... I'm working on it...
I've been keeping this close to me since I incorporated into something I wrote a year ago. I believe it's my favorite. My reminder of my constant and ever evolving being.
“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you." - Philippians 3:12 -15 NIV
The more I write on these virtual walls the more I feel as if I have out grown the space. Writing a blog nowadays pretty much feels like a chore. I don't EVER want to feel that like any kind of writing is a chore. So what to do now?
I'll figure it out.
Lately there is much to tell and nothing to tell. The much to tell is pretty much of the same thing.... along the lines of growing, figuring out some things in life in regards to ultimately what do I seek in a relationship and of course the highs ans lows (whatever kind of day it is) with my grandmother's pre-dementia state. Probably why I don't feel like writing none of this is because it feels like beating a dead horse.
The nothing to tell are just little odds and quirks of the day that I either chalk up to be not worth giving a full entry about and do a blip via Twitter or just fleeting thoughts that disappear as quickly as they came.
Last night I had a wonderful time with Papi. We've come to the conclusion there is never a dull moment when we're together. We were stuck in Gay Pride traffic for a bit while heading to a show at the Carter Barron. We made it to the show only to see Kenny Lattimore girate across the stage and more. The dude can sing his ass off though. Then my girl Ledisi hit the stage. Highlight - seeing her strut on stage in RED STILETTOS! (I want her shoes!!) It was my first time seeing Ledisi live and she didn't disappoint. She is a beautiful soul and an excellent performer. I love how she pretty much said she was "having church in the juke joint." Pretty much.... we did.
Naturally after the show Papi and I went out to eat and talked about any and everything; even discussing something as random as "do strobe lights really make things sexier?" (Janet Jackson fans know what that is about)
Later today I'm heading to Cousin T's "graduation soiree" at her place. I have no clue what I'm wearing.
In regards to summer, my favorite season that I practically live for, I feel "flat" or as if I am coasting along. Normally I don't mind the coasting or content feeling. This time, I can't hack it. I'm tired of it. It's time to break out and do something drastic. Not bad drastic... something good.
What will it be....
So much as taken place since I last wrote within these virtual pages. So much so, that I think it would be unfair to my brain to even formulate a "real" blog entry for the fear of leaving a detail or two out because my mind is racing faster than my fingertips can dance across my laptop keyboard.
Instead it's bullets.
- Talks of my grandmother going into a nursing home/rehab facility became a reality nearly two weeks ago. The stay was only suppose to be temporary; until she was able to build her strength back up by eating or her insurance paying in full up to 20 days - which ever of these came first. However, my grandmother didn't allow any of them to happen. A slightly scary situation arose this past Wednesday, only a little over a week since she had been at the facility. During my visit with her that afternoon, she complained about being in pain and she barely talked above a whisper. After conferring with her nurse and even talking to my mother over the phone I learned that during my mother's visit earlier in the day she met with my grandmother's doctor. They discussed my grandmother's alledged pain, since it seemed she was having pain on different days and in different places. The doc diagnoised my grandmother with having pre-dementia.
- Oddly enough when I first heard the word I ignored it. Then it angered me as I heard the nurse and the EMT folks go back and forth using the word "Dementia" as if it were full blown as they hovered over my grandmother assessing her and trying to decide if she really needed to go the hospital. Eventually she was taken to a nearby hosptial, where I stayed until my mother got there. Later we learned she had a bladder infection, so it could very well be that my grandmother was not imagining her pain. Later that evening I did look up pre-dementia and even looked up Alzheimers. I didn't get very far because a lot of what I found was a bunch of medical jargon. I did understand the main point. With pre-dementia there is a shortage in the brain where short term and long term memory goes in an out. It is known to be a precurser for full on Alzheimers and it's not curable, but the meical realm is looking into different treatments; from brain exercises to drugs.
- I thought back to Mother's Day and how we all were at my grandmother's side. I was to her immediate left and she down at my middle finger on my left hand. It is there that I wear a 14 karat gold ring (the only gold I wear) carrying my birthstone; amethyst, and two small diamonds on the side of the stone. She looked at the ring and reminded me that we got that ring out of JC Penny's a long time ago. It kind of stumped me because she was mumblin a bit, but mentioning how she bought the ring for me one day after school. Honestly I don't remember much about the day. I don't even remember exactly how old I was. What's fresh in my mind is my blue uniform from elementary/jr. high school. I'm guessing I was in the sixth grade cause I almost remember what I looked like the day she bought the ring. I remember what that particular jewelry department at that JC Penny's looked like at the time. No sooner had she talked about the ring, my grandmother was trying to recall something else before she eventually said "my memory isn't worth two scents these days."
- Everyone has been dealing with my grandmother's health in their own way. My aunt is amazingly helping out more, especially in regards to looking after my grandmother's husband, who really hasn't fully recovered from his stroke nearly three years ago. My mother of course is in superwoman mode. So much so that when it's too much I can tell, it's all over her face and it showed today as she caught an attitude with me for not cooking dinner today. I've been helping, I've cooked, I've been trying to do my part and little extra, but the day I stopped (such as today) to gather my own thoughts of course it is seen as selfish. Now I feel like shit cause of the attitudes flying in the air.
- I'm confused about everything right now. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. As I looked up pre-dementia I couldn't help but wonder if my grandmother drove her self to this state. Ironically, everything checks out excellent with her healthwise, but her mind..... I thought about those religous cliches and kind of chuckled at the cliche images of sister prayer circles armed with Bibles and standing over my grandmother being prayer warriors and casting out demons and such through prayer - think the near ending of Beloved when those church sistas came and prayed over Setha's house. My chuckles faded as I thought about it some more. Our old pastor did come and say a word and had prayer with my grandmother, mother and myself during her initial stay at the hospital. Still was it enough? Is it enough to think of a silent prayer in the middle of the day or in mid thought as I write? Granted in the stats I read, millions of Americans are living with pre-dementia, but why do I feel like my grandmother doesn't have to? Maybe something is going on. Perhaps something bigger than me and it's gonna take something stronger than what I can give (or maybe subconsciously willing to give) to eliminate it.
- I noticed that I haven't beem eating much myself. I lost a pound or two. I'm not stressed. My appetite just isn't here. A few bites and my stomach is tied in knots. My grandmother's health is taking a toll on me. My appetite only goes M.I.A when something is wrong.
It's going on 4 a.m. I'll finishing my thoughts later.
I'm freaking out. About to cry tears of happiness and relief.
A few weeks ago, just at the start of school, I blogged about a dream I had. A dream in which my mother kept telling me that I needed to pay off some of my bills, but I kept telling her there wasn't enough money in my account. We sort of went back and forth about it (in the dream) for a while, before she finally gave me this strange look and said "ok." I remember when I blogged about it I spoke on my nervousness about (another) federal loan I took out for school.
In past semesters when I finally claimed financial independent status while enrolled at school, I took out loans only to be short changed and having to contribute to my tuition by any other financial means. A lot of times things failed and didn't come through, leaving me stranded or scrabbling for "change" to complete a semester. Obviously this was added on stress to my life and my college "career" until I literally said "Fuck It," and took my hiatus.
Since the beginning of this semester I found it odd that I never recieved any communication from school concerning my financial aid; if my information had been recieved and what would I be awarded. I tried not to worry cause I figured it was out of my hands, but being the nervous ninny and control freak that I am I had to investigate. The second week into school I found that my aid information had been recieved but the school wanted me to fill out additional information before anything could be processed. Basically more income proof. I had a feeling what set the "alarm" off. In the past it was just me. Now obviously I have a little one to take care of and obviously claiming. Needless to say I completed what they asked of me and turned it immediately.
Meantime, my nervousness was being mixed in with frustration. I couldn't access the school's Blackboard system - a intergrated school networking site that allows students and teachers to commincate virtual as well as to post and received assignments and turn them in online. I wasn't "Validated" (because tuition hadn't been paid) to access Blackboard, which I absolutely need to receive my assignments and download and print out documents that my professors post daily. I kept trying and trying to log in, but I couldn't get in until... this past Saturday. I figured I must finally be validated. Thankfully I didn't miss much via Blackboard.
Even as I was able to log into Blackboard I didn't bother logging onto my student account info site. I was too nervious to see and learn that I just might be short changed again. Nevertheless, my curiousity got the best of me late last night. As I read my account info I found myself fixated on this figure that didn't look like a charge. It was sitting right next to the Pell Grant. I kept reading and re-reading to make sure I was reading correctly. All of the tuition and fees seemed to have been paid for, but I wasn't understanding what this "charge" was sitting next to the amount of the Pell Grant that went into my account.
This morning I called student accounts only to have my dream confirmed. I'm due a refund. This time the government uped the ante on my Pell Grant, which allowed them to over pay my tuition and send the difference to me. I'm glowing. Lord knows I needed it at this time. Granted it's not a lot, but if I plan and budget the right way it could last throughout the semester.
This is just added momentum and confirmation, that yes.... it's time for me to finish school! No Bull Shitting for real this time.
Yes I've said my "thank yous" to the Lord, but obviously I'm not done.
Excuse me while I go sit and and cry my tears of relief.
I've been struggling a bit to write a decent blog about this weekend and some lessons I've learned. Yet it's been a mental fight to say what I need to say as I even had to revisit an old entry of mine. I've been battling with spiritual maturity and it has been kicking me in the ass.
Untill I can finish getting my thoughts together, part of me feels the need to repost my entry "Good Christian, Bad Christian." The other part of me just wants to take a full fledge break from writing in this blog.
If you are a visitor and would like to know what was said in my entry from February, just click there ----------> Good or Bad?