Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Hope from a sand dollar...

I’ve had writer’s block for months now, which for me, feels a lot like needing a good cry with blocked tear ducts. I’m not sure what bought it on exactly, except that I’ve felt overwhelmed with the sting and rip of the world’s current trauma and I have taken it all quite personally.  I don’t suspect that a person wants to take such things to heart (war, racism, oppression, murder etc…) it’s just the inundation and brutality of it all overwhelms us sensitive people. It feels a lot like having an angry parakeet on your shoulder repeating the tragedy of the day over and over in your ear. It’s maddening and sometimes inescapable. When that happens, I can’t write. I mean, I can scribble some quick thoughts to page and blurb about the reality of injustice, but I can’t be poetic and free flowing on a constant basis. This is quite painful to me.

But today, here on this beautiful island, I am free. My thoughts are chasing my fingers and I am young at heart in the free flowing nature of my poetic being. I am fearless and relentless and happy. Oh sweet quiet solitude of joy, how I miss you.

I took a walk on the beach with my son this morning and we found again, the reason why we keep returning back to the ocean.  Its expanse is breathtaking and reminds us of our small but significant place in this world. It reminds us to be grateful.

I stopped trusting humanity this year. I stopped believing that people really do want to come together to achieve peace and create a world for our children that will be better than what we have. I stopped believing that racism, sexism and all the all other isms were losing ground and slowly dying.  I shied away from people with extreme views on the world that just didn’t seem realistic in nature. We all can’t be the same. How hard is that to fathom? Yet, that seems to be the main bone of contention within humanity.  If you think like me, worship like me, politicize like me, then you are right like me. I swear that will be on a t-shirt soon enough.  So I began to dread people and their voices and commentaries about morality in an immoral and wounded world. 

From deep inside of me, rising slowly but surely, was a shock-wave of anger which announced itself in verbiage wrapped in thunder, sounding something like: “JUST BE THE DAMNED THING YOU CLAIM IS RIGHT AND JUST!!! JUST LIVE IT AND STOP TRYING TO ENFORCE IT!!!” That’s what I want to tell zealots in any form.  Nothing good ever comes from force. Deep sigh.  Those words have been brewing within me for some time. I’m freer now because they are outside of me and not locked up anymore.

As we walked along the beach this morning, we approached a lady and her dog. I wanted to turn and go the other way (because I wanted to avoid the people thing) but we were too close and it would have been obvious. Right before she got to us, she bent down and picked up what I thought was a seashell and walked towards us. She stretched out her hand and said “This is a sand dollar, take it back with you and dry it in the sun. This can be your souvenir from Emerald Isle.”  Humanity…just when I think I have you pegged, you change the game on me.


Trust is subjective…

Monday, March 2, 2015

Table for 1...

I’ve come to an interesting discovery at this moment in my life; being afraid of being alone is much like fearing the dark. They both hold a certain ominous uncertainty that depending on our age or maturity level can get the best of us. If we concentrate on the unknown possibilities too long, we will panic and react.

Sometimes, we make life changing decisions based on the fear of being alone. We say “yes” when we should say “no”.  The idea of being by ourselves seems terrifying, which leads us to say yes with a maybe heart. Yes, you can call me. Yes, I’ll go out with you again. Yes, I…like you. Yes, we can get together. Yes, I’ll join the committee. There can be an endless cycle of yes’s that keep us from our true self and honest desires, but make us feel temporarily accepted and wanted.

The problem is that most of us were never taught that not going to the party or not having a date can be a good thing. As children it was considered unhealthy not to be a part of the group on a constant basis. Sometimes we were verbally rewarded because of how many friends we had. We wore being a part of the crowd as a badge of honor.  Nurturing a sense of self was not heard of in my generation, as much as it can be discussed now. Independent thinking was not at all encouraged, unless it was posed as the question: “If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you?” We were only expected to think for ourselves when it came to avoiding bad behavior, not when it came to being self entertained or introverted, independent thinkers.

Such introspection has led me to a refreshing discovery over this past year.  I have found being alone, whether I am at the movies, a restaurant or shopping, is exactly what I need in my life at this time.  I’ve spent too much of my life trying to replace relationships that I’ve lost in my younger years due to either death or separation, with people that could never fill those places.  I have searched for family members in friends wanting to create what I’ve missed out on for so long.  That sense of neediness has cost me dearly.  Because when we’re looking for fulfillment in other human beings, we don’t see clearly that the people that we are choosing to spend time with, may not be the best or healthiest choice for us.  We end up trusting the wrong people and sharing a part of ourselves with someone who does not merit that privilege. 

 I finally came to a place where I no longer needed individual or group validation.  What I needed was a respite from wanting to always be part of the crowd, women’s group, coffee time etc… I needed time to hear my own thoughts, pray my own prayers and be content with me. I’m not saying that I will never again have a ‘girl’s night out’ or a road trip with friends, but what I am saying is that I can plan my life and my fun with or without those possibilities. There will probably always be that part of me that prefers my own silence over the voice of others... most days.


Don't get me wrong, I love good company and I've had some great friendship experiences through the years. I like laughing and exchanging thoughtful ideas. I love the concept of being in a close knit community of diverse people from all walks of life and maybe one day that will happen for me again on a deeper level.  If it does, I will treat it as a gift and have all the more to offer because of the journey that I was willing to take alone to discover the beauty of being me…

Monday, February 2, 2015

When the older woman in your mirror begins to talk to you...


I’ve always loved gray hair nicely placed at the temples, particularly on men. The look is smart and crisp. It says, “I know things, life things.” I don’t reject the look on women either. It’s just hard pressed to find it as untouched, it’s usually colored or highlighted.  Women don’t boast about their gray much, in my experience. In fact, for some ladies, it’s almost gauche to talk about graying or hot flashes or any symptom of aging. I think we women are taught to be embarrassed about it. I think we’re supposed to do it discreetly, with plenty of appointments to our hair dressers…she knows our bottled hair color by heart. I also think that it’s highly unfair not to be able to let it all go, at least for a moment and just be. There are so many products aimed towards keeping us looking at least 20 years younger, that I can’t help but wonder if we’re supposed to be ashamed of actually being 20 years older.

I need a touch-up on my temples. My gray is showing, but for some reason I’m not panicking yet. I have panicked in the past however, while looking at that older woman in my mirror and wondering when she arrived. But this time, I decided to let her hang around a bit before insisting that she hide her years, even if the evidence of age is somewhat subtle…somewhat. I decided to ask her a few questions while staring in her eyes and inspecting her skin for lines. I figured she could teach me a thing or two about life, survival, resilience, and patience. I was surprised at how calm the exchange feels now. No longer rushed and worried about what to do next. No longer in a flurry of activity after years of hopeful insistence of now. I can do now, like never before. The slightly more mature woman in my mirror has time for me like no one else, and I can glean from her life lessons. I’m glad she’s finally here.

I’d like to challenge you. The next time you see that older woman peeking back at you in your mirror and she takes you by surprise, don’t shoo her away so quickly. Don’t cover her with your best product and send her off to your stylist so soon. Stop, right out of the shower and look at her, appreciate her post-child bearing physicality. Compliment her, by not being ashamed of what you see. Only air-brushed super models get to pose nude without a care in the world. But we have the privacy of our bathroom mirrors and a moment of reflection and homage to the women that we are today…body, mind and soul. No matter how many years have passed, there is still defined and thoughtful beauty in being a woman.

Embrace it…

Monday, October 20, 2014

What happened to Radical Jesus at the beach and his friends???



While having dinner with my daughter the other day and wanting to know what life on campus was like, she let me know that there are some racial issues that are in the midst of being addressed by way of a "community discussion" at Wake. My first thought was great! This is a good opportunity for you to sit in on these meetings and learn how important it is to speak up on social justice. Whether you are new to the campus or not, this subject is not new. I also shared with her that because part of Wake Forest's legacy is steeped in the legacy of Dr. Maya Angelou, a woman who loved diversity on every level, this school owes it to the students who walk this campus every day and to her memory, to work hard at making Wake a landscape of equality.

You see, it would have been easy for her to go to a school where everyone looked like her and shared her same opinion on social justice and equality, but what change in the greater world would that bring? For this child of mine, who loves culture and language and wants to travel the world, this is the place to begin her journey. She told me that she had a great time one evening, sitting around talking with other girls from different parts of the world: "It was the most diverse group that I've been with so far and I really liked that."  This is the mindset of a young woman of change, no matter how subtle her personal forum may seem.

I have to admit that I believe we have failed this generation in huge proportions after the 60's and the 70's. Decades beyond the protests and landmark decisions that would hope to make great strides to afford everyone having "a place at the table", we have gone backwards in this arena at light speed. It seems that the goal is to stay in your own lane and be as safe as possible from anything that would threaten us. It seems that "turn the other cheek" has been substituted for turn a deaf ear to the ills of society today. The radical Jesus who hung out at the beach with everybody, has been substituted for a safe, American conservative who can only relate to his own kind. How did this happen? And why is radical and accepting always tied together with the sinful mindset of this world?

I'm hoping that this generation will do much better at not just crossing racial lines,but erasing them altogether. I'm hoping that universal interest take precedent over one country's opinion of the world and its unquenchable thirst to be number one.


I'm hoping that we can start understanding that being globally minded doesn't necessarily mean in entirety extending benevolence to third world countries and the locally poor, but extending interest about the lifestyles and cultures of all people everywhere...just like that radical Jesus guy.  

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

I Know Depression

This morning I awoke with three simple words burning in my mind and asking me to express them with my heart: I know depression.

I know depression and its trail of tears and awaking fears that seem to at times know my every move. I know what it’s like to be the funniest person in the room and light up faces with laughter, only to feel like the loneliest person in the world alone in the dark.

I know depression and its lifelong tease of being an “oddball” that seems to set me apart in my own mind. I know the feeling of displaying brilliance and talent through words and performance, while struggling to find a sense of self-worth at the same time. When I see the genius of an actor or hear the emotion in a singer’s voice or stand in front of the masterpiece of a visual artist, I know without a doubt that they have experienced this angst too. The need to express what cannot otherwise be expressed in a world that seems to only honor performance more than vulnerability. We can only be vulnerable when we perform, otherwise…make sure you say: “All is well” when asked “How are you?”

I know depression mixed with Christianity which sometimes feels like a molotov cocktail of confusion waiting to explode inside. The erroneous concept that your sadness has to do with a lack of faith, love of God or sin, makes my anger burn at times. I know the moment of realization that the “friends” that you have confided in about your secret angst will only stay around long enough to “minister” you through the moment, so that there will be no stain on their conscious or liability for them, should you take a turn for the worse and exit the planet without permission.

I know depression…
Because of this life long battle, I have been privately introduced to the only One that knows me, sees me and understands my every thought. In light of this condition I whole heartedly admit without shame, that I know a God who is bigger than depression.

He speaks in beautiful pictures to my tired soul and gives me hope that I may have something of wonderment to give to this huge enraged world. When tears fall down my face and surround my heart over the passing of a loved one, the fallout with my child, the murder of another innocent black male, the sounds of war and dying children and other innocent lives, the racial tension back in full swing in my country, the death of my favorite actor…He tucks me under His wing and allows me to cry and begs me to write a message to my friends. Even when I can barely see my screen and I am suppressing my sobs. He brings me to a cottage just 200 feet from the ocean and sits me in a window seat and asks me to send a note of hope to those who know depression too. 

I know a God who does not mind my anger, or questions or stillness when I feel that I can do no more. He seems to show up in my dreams with abstract answers to concrete needs. I have clutched His hand for so long that I now know how to decipher such dreams and I find it humorous at times.

I know a God who knows that my favorite place on earth is with sand and waves. He paints blue skies and billowy white clouds along with seagulls and such for my entertainment. He invites me every year, come hell or high water. No matter what devastation that has occurred in my world and He saves a front row seat just for me. This year, He has clearly outdone Himself. Perhaps it was because of a most difficult season that I am just passing through or the fact that there are words that need to be re-awakened within me or simply because He loves me. This year is the best retreat so far.

My message to my friends and those who know my words:

If you know depression, you are not alone or odd or crazy or mentally unstable. You simply are at times, depressed. The key, the secret, the hope I have for you my friend before you decide that nothing else can be done and that the sun will never rise again or that war will never cease and religion has made us all mad with guilt and shame…the secret is to know someone, some force of Universal Awe greater than yourself. Know that there is no question too big or no tear too tiny for the God of the universe to answer, to touch, to wipe away.

I beg you, not to leave too soon. There is a message inside of you that we need to hear. Speak, from your pain. Speak from your joy. Simply, speak from your heart…we’re listening.

In loving memory of one of my favorite actors and all-around genius minds. I remember you today and all that you gave but sadly never received in return…


*There is no shame in needing medication, counseling or the listening ear of a friend, no shame at all.  I have done all three and am now content with the company of God and my closest friends.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

This new kind of peace...

This new peace is kind of weird and takes getting used to…but I love it.

My inherited temperament

I've never been low keyed. I've always wanted to be and I've admired low keyed people all of my life. But I was born a ‘live wire’ always popping, shocking and burning anyone who got too close to me. I would swear, if anyone could attest to it, that I didn't come out crying like a normal baby, but I came out swinging and crying. At birth, I was already agitated at being handled too much.

 Change
For the past several months, I have had an ongoing battle with the inner calm that God was trying to draw from me. I wanted more of it and since I've experienced it incrementally throughout the past few years, I craved it. The problem was, I had no idea that you had to go through hell to get to it.

It seemed that my “island of tranquility” (or the peace that God wanted me to experience on a permanent basis) was situated right on the other side of the most shark infested choppy waters you could imagine. In short, I had to dredge through the heavy weighted nuances of my past once and for all.

The lover of my soul said: “You can swim through this.” Part of me felt like this was an unfolding plan for Him to take me home sooner than expected, so I stood on shore for just a while longer. I was praying for courage. I was praying for another way to go home. I was praying for a more beautiful ending. Finally, when none of those prayers seemed to be answered, I knew that I had to jump in and start swimming and I did.

With all of the finesse of a petrified land lover, I began chopping at the waves. I was making horrible progress and smacking at any perceivable object that was in my path. I was calling for help, yet too afraid to trust it at the same time.  I was in panic mode.

Still, because of how He is and who He is, God honored my effort to cross this storm and just when I was going down for the last time…He reached in and saved me…again.

I am now of the mindset that we are allowed to be saved by grace multiple times until we leave this earth and each time will be as beautiful and as new as the last.

In the midst of one of the worse panic attacks that I've had in months, I heard God’s voice say: “This is a test and I will not let you fail.” Honestly, when He said that, I was failing badly and I didn’t know how to stop myself…but God didn't seem too upset about that.

God being a Daddy

I always loved those Dads on TV who never seemed to get too angry at their kids, no matter what they did. I thought it was amazing how they could sit calmly and rationally while giving discipline and direction. I wondered why more Dads weren't like that, until I started calling God “Abba” which means “Daddy” in Aramaic. When I started relating to God as Abba, my relationship with Him changed dramatically and I noticed that His responses to me were far gentler than I had realized before. The ironic thing was, I waited for His disposition toward me to change into full blown anger and sometimes rejection, but so far, that doesn't seem to be His parenting plan. How I love Abba…

The journey

God’s rescue for me consisted of an intense mouth to heart resuscitation for about four days. On the second day, (which was a Saturday) He told me that I would be okay by day three.

During the course of those days I experienced emotional vomiting like I have never experienced before. Childhood, teenage years, adulthood, relationships, issues with my parents (namely my Dad) my sisters, the church, other Christians, as well as from marriage to motherhood, nothing was off limits.
He promised me that His voice would stand above all the other voices in my life, if I would just focus in on it. Every day, I tried hard to cling to His words and let all other opinions go, which was a huge feat for someone who wanted approval so badly. It was gut wrenching change and I needed it fast, or I wasn’t going to make it.

The other side

By day three, I was fully functional. It was incredible. I had spent three intense days in emotional detox reading three specific scriptures a day (I still do) and receiving literal breath from God to supplement my shallow breathing…and this day, this third day, I emerged victorious with my hand still clutching Abba’s. I am now on the other side experiencing a miraculous emotional healing. Every day I am becoming freer.

The path ahead is filled with life’s uncertainties and the circumstances that surround me have not changed much in the natural, but what makes all the difference in the world, is a healed mind and a fresh perspective. I will live, with my hand in Abba’s, a gentler, more peaceful and loving spirit and that is all I've ever wanted in my whole life.


Faithful God

We say “God is faithful” out of habit at times, but it takes a real breaking of the will to find out how true this really is. Deuteronomy 31:6 says: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you, He will never leave you nor forsake you. This was Moses encouraging the people of Israel that God was with them in a time when fear and uncertainty could have easily taken over and defeated them. This scripture is no less relevant in our lives today. Fear and discouragement can be a prevailing constant for us, which can stand in the way of overcoming life’s hardest difficulties. But when God Himself promises that He will be with us always and we hold on to that truth for dear life…there is no way that we can fail. We will truly get to the other side…

*I want to note that the components of this rescue have been building up for years and years. All it took was a crises (which God allowed) to bring on the full blown healing. I want to make sure that no one reads this and walks away with the idea that life’s biggest problems can be solved in just a few days or so. The time frame of healing is up to God. We can delay it by the way that we perceive His help however, so be sure to know His voice and fall in love with His heart.  Finally, I want you to know that it doesn't matter what you view a crisis to be or what scale that you weigh it on, if it hurts us, God wants to heal us and He doesn't measure or discard our pain based on a scale of 1 to 10.





Wednesday, April 30, 2014

This Heart...

This heart breaks slowly
Like
The crack in a windshield
Spreading with frost
And time
No way to stop
The inevitable movement
Of the hairline fracture
Creeping
In front of your very eyes
This heart
Yields slowly
To the unexpected
Yet expected results
Of being hit by a rock
A pebble
or
A stone

At first
Barely noticeable
Except to those who are
Front and center for the ride
But with time
And age
The breakage marches
Reacting
 To the wind chill factors of life
Distracting my view
Pulling my attention
From the highway
Causing a hazard
Making me anxious
Until
Finally
Needing to be totally replaced

This heart
Needs replacing
Like so many others
That have incurred injury
And suffered quietly
And unbearably
Until
One day
A sacred hand
Full of mercy
Removes the damaged glass filled heart
And gives me
A brand new view…

                                                   Bonita Y. Jones “This heart” ©