Your journey has less to do with you...

Your journey has less to do with you than it has to do with everyone who will be blessed enough to cross your path… your gifts were never for you or about you.

-- Lisa Nichols

A few days ago, I happened upon a website (Numerologist.com) that gave me a free numerology reading. Well, okay, I didn’t happen upon it. I’ve always been interested in the science and significance of numerology, or the patterns and meanings of numbers and their relationship to occurrences and events. Numerology is considered part of the occult, which makes most people nervous because they think it’s about supernatural, dark, and mysterious stuff. Let’s be clear, though. The anointing of Jesus is supernatural and the power of God is incredibly supernatural. Everything under and above the sun, including numbers, exists to inform us about all we should know about the dark and mysterious way of ourselves and others, and certainly about the Super Nature of God. Numerology may have some illusory factors to it, but I’m inclined to be open-minded, and I like the idea that nothing in God’s universe is illogical or happens by accident.

After the website asked for my birth date then full birth name, I got readings that described my life path, expression, and soul urgings. It got a little spooky mysterious because it was as though the computerized man who read my Self to me actually knew me! It was that accurate! I even started over and entered my mama’s and daddy’s information; it was still spot on! Of course, there was much more they were willing to reveal to me if I paid them a little change, which I didn’t do… for now. I’m really interested in learning about my Karmic Lessons, Pinnacles, and some number that helps to reveal my Superpower!

But, most of what my numbers revealed about me, I’d already heard, seen, or felt, so there really weren’t any huge surprises. They merely confirmed that I’m not wrong about myself or arrogant (well, not unnecessarily so) about how I walk this earth. I know I’m a confident and independent leader. I’m good at getting the ball rolling on new projects, but the details and routines bore me. My sense of self is strong; I’m a truth seeker; and have the internal flair for being a visionary. I have a “contagious enthusiasm,” but I’m sensitive and tend to doubt myself/worry about how others perceive me. I am a hopeless romantic and I’m not afraid to express my true feelings, although I feel rejected if my suitor doesn’t respond accordingly. My mind is always working, I stay in my head. I’m a giver and often give more than I receive, especially to people who don’t deserve or appreciate me. But, even in challenges, I’m resilient and outfitted to handle the many risks life poses. So the report summed me up pretty well!

But, while I know who I am, what I had not fully considered was how who I am naturally influences the lives of those I meet and love AND that I have a perpetual responsibility to them to be the best me I can be. In other words, I’m not in this for me. The gifts God has given me aren’t for me, but for others so that they can reach their greatest potential and be empowered to share their gifts and talents with others.

Matthew 5:14-16a says, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others so that they can see your good works…”

Because of the Calling on my life, it is imperative that I am a truth seeker who fearlessly digs deeply into the secrets of the human mind and heart. I don’t do this just for myself – although I am the first recipient of many great epiphanies; I do this for women who also seek to know and love themselves as intensely and absolutely as I do myself. I don’t see the big picture so that I alone can revel about its victories; I see it for women who can’t see past the day or the hour because of the outwardly insurmountable confusion and chaos in their lives. I tend to be a bit aggressive, but I count it as passionate and uncompromising, especially as it helps me advocate for the least of these – us women who are continually marginalized and left to fend for ourselves and our children. I go hard because it’s necessary for me to help create a safe space for us to unearth our power and potency so that all who cross our paths may be whole, healed, and emboldened. 

Because God, the angels, and the ancestors saw fit to allow me to be GG’s mama and the caretaker of over 300 other little hearts each day, I have an obligation to remain optimistic, outgoing, and fun so that the world’s hopelessness won’t suck them into it.  My ability to teach in a positive and uplifting way helps all of my children to understand and manage themselves appropriately. And even when kids will be kids and challenge my desire to help them reach their promise, I am able to bounce back stronger, with more resolve and compassion to dream with them and imagine a future fit for the children of God.

God told me that if I believe in Him, serve His people, and keep His commandments, I can have the desires of my heart (Psalms 37:4). I believe Him! I also believe the numbers when they say that the Honey my heart desires will be a nurturing, mellow, sensitive, ready to put me first, teddy bear of a man who will adore my strength and sensuality, and provide the fireworks my soul and substance crave! So I won’t mourn the countless heartbreaks or the endless frustration; I will be grateful for the lessons and use them to move forward into a love that is inspiring and worthy of me. In love – and loved, I know myself to be exactly who God says I’m supposed to be – encouraging,  supportive, adoring, composed, bold, brilliant, charming, and, most of all, everything my Honey needs to move forward into his destiny and be his absolute best! For him, I am Everything so that he can be Everything!

There are no coincidences, everything on and of the universe conspires for our greatness. The stars, the moon, numbers, letters, the wind, the trees and grass, the sunshine and rain – all created by God’s hands – work magnificently to support and show us the way for others to drink and feed from. Everything exists to affirm who we are so that we can bless others, who will, in turn, manifest their fullest so they, too, can bless others; and we can without conceit say the world does not revolve around us. It, in fact, revolves because of us!

Your heart is going to be someone’s refuge.

Your heart is going to be someone’s refuge. Take good care of it. Make sure they’d feel safe and secure. Then, give all the right love to that someone for they deserve it. You are their home.

-- vegaaskies

Together we are us. We don’t look like the other us’. We can make our us look like anything we want it to be – this friendship, turned partnership where neither of us is taxed by the other. Our us is the place to be fulfilled and refilled and refueled.

We are refuge – the soft spot, the safe space. We are one another’s comfort and encouragement. We are where we create, advance, and improve. We’re one another’s re-up and rejuvenation. We’re to energize and re-energize. We are the other’s come up and come alive.

You and I together are whole. Together, we are the dreams and wishes of air; the change, creativity, will power, and sensuality of fire; and the cleansing and healing power of water. We are life.

We are healing, truth, passion, fortitude, trust. We are heart. We are health. We are peace. We are magic.  We are gifts. We are inspiration. We are hope. In us is compassion and possibility.

Our us is a love song, a perfect melody. We’re just right – flavorful, savory, and appetizing. We are softness, tenderness, and gentleness. We are the place to come to release, relieve, and relax. Here in us is where we get the things we need to go out into the world. We sustain us. When the world takes from us, us is the place where we get it all back.

The we of us is powerful and vibrant, it shines. We are the starting point and the end of the day. We are dreams and ideas, thoughts and conversations. We are contentment. We are comfortable silence.

We are wear-and-tear repaired; wounds swaddled in balm. We are worries soothed and sadness sweetened. We are pain eased, brokenness restored, and fears extinguished. We are flaws embraced and confessions held in confidence. Together we are new mornings, new mercies.

You and I are a warm hand, the intertwined fingers meant to provide continuous connection. We are thawed feet under warm, cozy blankets and hot chocolate and marshmallows for the soul. We’re the prayer book meant to provide solace. We are the blessings poured out for us each day. We are the slow dance in a fast-paced world and the quiet contemplation needed to recover in a world that’s loud and alarming.

We are the very picture of love. This us. This we. You and I together.

Everything you want...

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

-- Jack Canfield

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about fear lately and the ways in which it manifests itself. I’ve looked at the places in my life where I’ve allowed fear to become prevalent, and I realize it’s caused me to play it too safe, live inside a tiny box, hide in the background, and do only the minimum. I’ve made friends with fear, allowed it to be my buddy, and travel with me to some of the most important places I go. I’ve let fear write my life’s story, and given it the power to cosign what happened yesterday and dictate what transpires today. Fear’s fingerprints are everywhere, including the shades of beige on the walls of my house, the black pants for each day, and the predictableness and pedestrianism of my job. Fear has hung its hat here and dug its feet in as if it’s paying rent.

I’ve effortlessly and unceremoniously subscribed to the protective value, or the safety net, fear provides. When in fear, I’m careful, cautious, and unsurprising. Fear doesn’t require me to be anything but ordinary, and at least with ordinary, I don’t get wounded or bruised, and certainly my heart won’t be stomped or broken. Fear’s mere existence in my life certainly keeps me from veering off a prescribed and cultivated path, stepping off the straight, bright line, and failing. And, at a minimum, yielding to fear means I rarely have to say “I’m sorry,” “I forgive you,” or even “I love you.”

But, indubitably, I know that fear is limiting.

I know I wasn’t given the spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7), and that God is always with me (Isaiah 41:10). I know God is my light, salvation, and stronghold, and there is no one/thing to fear (Psalm 27:1). I know that God has overcome the world so that I can have peace (John 16:33).

I know that on the other side of my fears is everything I’ve ever wanted. I know that fear isn’t real, that it’s perceived and often extreme. I know that facing my fears is where growth occurs, and that any rational human being – which I consider myself to be – knows that fear is a choice.

So, while fear has attached itself to my past and has marks on my present life, I can’t allow it to continue to order my steps. I am in no way ordinary and acting so for the sake of safety is a lie. Cautiousness and prudence are germane for thoughtful living, but they shouldn’t expel moving ahead. Because my heart desires to unreservedly give love and be loved, I cannot permit fear to continue to cage it in. I won’t give fear the consent to govern my future.

To that end, when in fear, I can stand still to pray for God’s covering from the weight fear bears and take deep, long breaths to inhale enough oxygen to keep my brain from going into overdrive/overwhelm/overthink. Once calm, I can assess what’s causing the bout of anxiety, searching myself truthfully, and rationally take in the sights and feels of what’s directing it. I can then insightfully ask myself critical questions like “what will this require of me?”, “what is my heart telling me?”, “Lord, what would you have me do?”, and any other necessary questions that will help me to break down the actions needed to move forward in a manageable manner.

Once I’ve done all of this – as many times as it takes, in whatever amount of time it takes – I have an obligation to myself to move on what I’ve surmised. I may still be afraid – ha, I’ll probably still be afraid – but if I don’t move I’ll never know the other side of fear. I won’t know how truly fantastic I am or how it feels to really know joy. At the end of my days, I want to be among those who say I have no more because I overcame fear and did all I was to do.

From this point on, fear will be my springboard to fulfillment.

Balancing is not letting anyone love you less than you love yourself.-- Ketut





I’ve always believed that when you love someone, there are sacrifices you must make and accommodations you must sustain. I always thought that giving up some comforts and scaling down a few staunch expectations was the thing to do for love, because, in the end, it would all pan out and I’d get everything back that I put into it.

Now, as I reflect on lost love, I still believe that wholeheartedly, only now I’m realizing that there is also something else I should believe, something that I knew but forgot in the midst of giving love. I forgot about me.

Specifically, I forgot that I need/deserve/require sacrifices and accommodations because, in the end, I give back everything I get.

This morning, after prayer and quiet time, over coffee and butternut squash soup, I watched my favorite movie, “Eat Pray Love.” You’ve seen it, Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert travels the world in search of God and along the way finds God as herself. I’ve seen it, almost 200 times! And every time I see it – always at a time in my life when I most feel God calling me to Him – I get something new from the movie. Well, maybe, not new. Perhaps something I’ve failed to remember.

Today, though, it was something new. It was the very simple fact that you can love someone and not lose yourself or the things that are important to you.

See, like Elizabeth Gilbert, I am (re)learning that there is so much to love about life! We aren’t confined to little lives or predictable, everyday events. There is no book that says you must live your life in this way or that way – oh, wait, there’re lots of those kinds of books. But, if you didn’t write the book specifically for yourself, then there is no such book. The choices are yours.

I’m learning after 4 years of going all in on love that it’s not a bad thing to do if you do it with sincerity and authenticity; that it’s not bad to have hopes and dreams about a future with the one you love if those dreams are healthy and sound. It’s not a bad thing to adjust to your lover’s culpabilities/trials/pauses if you believe God is keeping both of you and has a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The bad thing is losing yourself, your sense of who you really are, in the midst of all of that.

I forgot how much I enjoyed life! I forgot how much I loved spending time with my family and friends who are extensions of me. I forgot that I loved unadulterated and impromptu girlfriend time at Sadiqqa’s Sanctuary; singing Switch and Earth, Wind & Fire songs loudly over the static and popping sounds of my old record player; and smelling of frankincense and myrrh, being called Sadiqqa, and eating Tandoori chicken and Indian flatbread while listening to Bob Marley and Peter Tosh belt out “Get Up, Stand Up!”

I forgot that I loved to take pictures of nature – water, trees, flowers, and birds. I forgot that I loved to wear and hang cowrie shells from my window to remind me of family and friends who’ve transitioned. I forgot Alice Walker, Dianne Reeves, and Zora Neale were my girls and Nina Simone sang several keys to the soundtrack of my life. I forgot how peaceful my house was when everything was in place; how my hand carved figurines represented the many elements of me; and how wonderful my bathroom feels when the eastern sun shines into it in the early morning to remind me that gifts and grace are given to me for another day. I’d forgotten the simplicity of God’s presence in my life and the reminders of His love for me at every moment in everything.

I forgot to love the texture of my hair and to appreciate the roundness of the hips my grandmama gave me. I forgot I was smart and intuitive. I forgot that I trusted myself and my sharp instincts. I forgot to listen well, nurture myself, and just be. 

And, I forgot how much I loved being GG’s mommy and her first life partner. I forgot how precious she is and that she chose me back before her time on earth to be her mommy. I forgot how good being with my baby girl makes me feel and brings out the best in me.

I forgot all that…  

And none of that is his fault. None of it. I chose, both consciously and unconsciously, to forget. I guess I thought that was what I was supposed to do – give me up/put some things out of my mind to let him live with me in his life.

The truth? I was busy being “tidy” so I’d fit easily and not frighten yet another lover away. I didn’t require that he love me as much as I loved being me.

I forgot me, so I lost my balance.

As I think about it, I’ve probably written a post like this before because I always seem to be trying to recover myself. There’s a lesson – stop losing yourself, Sadiqqa, so you can move on and not write stinkin’ posts like this anymore.

From now on, I will write about the balance and love for myself I’ve (re)discovered!

Now, to the Indian restaurant for some biryani and masala with my GG!

For a period of time.

For a period of time each month, I experience Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. In lay people terms, that’s PMS depression.

Completely fetal!

It renders me anxious, unsettled, and wretchedly down (that’s about 28 miles beyond sad). My cortisol is high and my serotonin is low. I cry the ugly cry – you know that one – and I cry it loudly. My favorite position is a fetal one, preferably performed in my bed, under layers and layers of heavy covers. During this time, the clouds in the sky hover low and dark, and it feels like the world is crumbling, and nothing can repair it.

In other words, I am sad, sad, and some mo’ kinda sad.

Usually when this phase of month (or moon) happens, I wait it out and walk with it. I search myself, calculatedly examine what’s on my mind and why it’s bothering me so, and try to be kind to myself.

Yesterday, that strategy wasn’t working so well.

“So, Jesus, why you…? And, how come…? But, Lord…? And see, Jesus… Well, what about…? And you said… When…? Lord…!? Lord, where are you?!” And, oh, was I crying the ugly cry!  And I mean loudly! 

I moped through the day, certain that Elohim was ignoring my dismay – ‘cause I’m human like that – and feeling all “oh-woe-is-me” ish. Meanwhile, the clouds got lower and the world as I know it crumbled a little more.

Now, I know that when I get loud and stank with Elohim, He usually gets quiet. Really, who do you know that’ll respond to you when you get loud wit’ ‘em? Certainly not Jehovah Shalom, the Lord of peace. And I know that Elohim gets quiet so I that will and can then listen intently to that still small voice that tells me God’s got me and all is well. But, yesterday, there was no stopping my angst!

I finally unballed myself and left the house, though still sulking.  But while sitting at a stop sign, in the middle of dry and forgotten yard, in a space where I never would have glanced, Jehovah Shammah (the Lord is present) blew a gentle wind across my face to draw my attention to beautiful white flowers growing naturally, unobtrusively, and unexpectedly beside a low concrete wall just beneath the stop sign. I heard/saw then what I needed to know –

“Beloved, here I am!”

Unexpected white flowers!

Under that stop sign, right next to that slab of concrete, in dry land, after weeks of 100+ degree weather and no rain, there was enough life to grow something beautiful, and there they blew just for me and anybody else who passed. I believe they bloomed in these impossible circumstances to remind us that even in our impossible circumstances and situations, life grows on. And I believe God showed them to me so that I could know that no matter how sad or alone I may feel, God is present.

I love the way Elohim loves on me!

Sadiqqa © 2012