All life has its own current. Are you moving with it - or are you struggling upstream?
-- Oprah Winfrey
Over the weekend a friend explained that she had learned how to flow with life. Earlier in her life, she’d insistently fought against the currents and felt the ground of sand slide swiftly away from under her feet. Now, seasoned by life and experiences, my friend floats freely with the waves of life, makes friends with the jellyfish and albatrosses, and prayerfully, gracefully, and peacefully receives whatever washes ashore.
Oh that we could each embrace this attitude.
Imagine if you would the constant tides of the sea motioning at some times as gentle wind-blown ripples that meet a waiting shoreline; at other times an ocean’s current is as ferocious as a lion pursuing and consuming its prey. Most times, though, the sea is as calm as the sun rising and setting, and not even a storm passing over can change its constitution. The ocean is the ocean and it flows any which way it chooses.
Much like life. Life flows in many different directions, in many different ways. Sometimes life is up, marked by triumphs and celebrations, then, in the blink of an eye, it can be down, with sadness and pain around every corner. Most times, life is somewhere in between the extremes wanting you to just ride its surf.
Oh that we could just ride.
It’s only when you simply allow life to take you along its currents, whatever they may be, that you become stronger and more capable of managing all that swims and surfaces through its currents. It’s when you stop fighting the strong undertow of life that you begin to float and experience life in a new way. When you give in to life’s many uncertainties, carrying with you the lifeboat of faith and life jacket of love, even when it feels as though you will drown amid the circumstances and situations life presents; when you cease trying to beat back the currents of life, punching at it as though you could make it do what you want and getting angry, sullen, and fatigued as life takes on its own shape; when you simply accept that you’re a pawn and all of life is waiting for you to relax so it can give you all it wishes for you to have; then, and only then, can you finally be free.
Oh that we could be open to that which begets such freedom.
Hoist your sail and move with life’s flow. After all, swimming daily against the current can wear you out, distract your course, and bury you beneath the sea.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 24, 2007
Sep 19, 2007
Stop when you’re full.
-- Cynthia Copeland Lewis, “Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me”
Remember when your mama said you could not leave the table or take a drink until you’d eaten everything on your plate? Remember that she said you had to play outside or inside, not both, so stop slam’n that screen door!? Remember when you had to kiss and hug everybody at the party goodnight when it was time for you to go to bed, even that great aunt with the bad Polident® grip?
Well, today you’re a grownup and you never have to do any of that again. As a matter of fact, you don’t have to do much of what you don’t want to do ever again. Aside from the essentials like going to work, paying the bills, eating, sleeping, and a plethora of other odd fundamentals, whenever you think you’ve had enough, just stop.
Which can actually be one of the hardest things to do. For example, how easy is it to stop loving someone even when that person has taken your head and heart through so many hurtful places? You want to stop, you want to not feel; you’ve had enough, it’s hurting you. But, you just can’t stop.
Or, how easy is it to let go of a job that’s not taking you anywhere, that’s comfortable and stable, even though comfortable and stable aren’t increasing your pay or bringing you satisfaction? You gotta feed the kids, right?
And how easy is it to stop enabling your first-born child who depends on you to bail him out of his troubles, so much so you’ve mortgaged your home again just to post bail, jeopardized your mental, and subsequently, your physical health worrying over his well-being, and not moved him any closer to the resolution of his issues? How easy is it to stop holding up your baby and just let him go to fend for himself and learn his lessons the hard way?
It’s not easy. Something deep in our spirits pushes us to go on, to give more, give it another try, and stay until it’s all said and done. After all, not stopping is our claim to fame, that’s what got us to this point and place in our lives. Had your great ancestors stopped when enough was enough, would you even be reading this scribe?
Maybe. Maybe not. But for the sake of your own welfare and that of your children and those watching, if you’ve had enough, by all and any means necessary, stop. When you pronounce that you’re full and don’t want anymore, when you push back from the table of selfish and insensitive relationships, self-denigration, doubt, fear, resentment, depression, and loneliness, then you can make thoughtful and appropriate decisions and changes in your life. It is only then that you can really say you are a grownup.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Cynthia Copeland Lewis, “Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me”
Remember when your mama said you could not leave the table or take a drink until you’d eaten everything on your plate? Remember that she said you had to play outside or inside, not both, so stop slam’n that screen door!? Remember when you had to kiss and hug everybody at the party goodnight when it was time for you to go to bed, even that great aunt with the bad Polident® grip?
Well, today you’re a grownup and you never have to do any of that again. As a matter of fact, you don’t have to do much of what you don’t want to do ever again. Aside from the essentials like going to work, paying the bills, eating, sleeping, and a plethora of other odd fundamentals, whenever you think you’ve had enough, just stop.
Which can actually be one of the hardest things to do. For example, how easy is it to stop loving someone even when that person has taken your head and heart through so many hurtful places? You want to stop, you want to not feel; you’ve had enough, it’s hurting you. But, you just can’t stop.
Or, how easy is it to let go of a job that’s not taking you anywhere, that’s comfortable and stable, even though comfortable and stable aren’t increasing your pay or bringing you satisfaction? You gotta feed the kids, right?
And how easy is it to stop enabling your first-born child who depends on you to bail him out of his troubles, so much so you’ve mortgaged your home again just to post bail, jeopardized your mental, and subsequently, your physical health worrying over his well-being, and not moved him any closer to the resolution of his issues? How easy is it to stop holding up your baby and just let him go to fend for himself and learn his lessons the hard way?
It’s not easy. Something deep in our spirits pushes us to go on, to give more, give it another try, and stay until it’s all said and done. After all, not stopping is our claim to fame, that’s what got us to this point and place in our lives. Had your great ancestors stopped when enough was enough, would you even be reading this scribe?
Maybe. Maybe not. But for the sake of your own welfare and that of your children and those watching, if you’ve had enough, by all and any means necessary, stop. When you pronounce that you’re full and don’t want anymore, when you push back from the table of selfish and insensitive relationships, self-denigration, doubt, fear, resentment, depression, and loneliness, then you can make thoughtful and appropriate decisions and changes in your life. It is only then that you can really say you are a grownup.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 18, 2007
The Power structure is not going to save us – never has and never will. We have to take things into our own hands and save ourselves.
-- Camille Cosby
Last evening’s nightly news programs and “magazines” – Hardball with Chris Matthews, Hannity and Colmes, Anderson Cooper 360°, and all the other programs with professional talking heads – covered one story and one story only – the latest adventures and calamities of O.J. Simpson.
After covering Orenthal James as the main topic, blood for oil – oops – the war in Iraq was the topic. If not those 2 items, the talk was of President Bush’s nomination of Michael Mukasey for Attorney General and General Petraeus’ “it’s working” surge. Or, switch to another talking heald and it was MoveOn.org’s bashing of Rudy Giuliani and Hillary Clinton’s new take on an old universal healthcare plan. If none of those were the topics, it was certain to be Iran’s nuclear arsenal, Greenspan’s criticism, Blackwater’s ban, a polygamist’s trial, ACLU’s support of Larry Craig, or another recalled brand of bagged salad for suspected E. coli contamination. All important issues and events with very significant ramifications.
But did the atrocious events in Jena, Louisiana appear as anybody’s story or even as an item on the ticker tape rolling across the screen?
Even Black Republican and 2 time candidate Alan Keyes made the CNBC ticker tape for his entrance as a candidate into the 2008 presidential race.
Is this just another indication of how Black people are marginalized and ignored, or was I just watching the wrong channels?
Isn’t the social injustice, spurred by a racist district attorney in a small town of about 3,000 people, that impacts not only the victims and their families but the country as a whole, newsworthy? Isn’t it worthy of the same, if not more, fanatical media attention that Kevin Federline got being the target of an assassination plot? When thousands of Black and white people will converge on a city the size of Jena to ensure their presence is felt and voices heard regarding the inequity of the charges and treatment of Black students and people, doesn’t Sally Field’s cursing and political banter at the Emmy’s Sunday night pale in comparison?
Face it, nobody’s talking about Black people or what’s important to us, so you know nobody’s coming to save us. Don’t look for nobody. Don’t hold your breath for ‘em.
Which is just as well because nobody knows what we need better than we do. History has proven time and again that the only way we’ll realize freedom and justice is to go get it for ourselves – which is what we’ll seek on September 20 in Jena. The only way we’ll grasp economic security and social stability is to build for ourselves with our own pooled capital and resources, then spend our dollars among ourselves. We can’t wait for others to do for us what needs to be done by us. The mainstream news media won’t do it and local, state and federal governments certainly won’t do it. Besides, self-help doesn’t need the help of the media or any administration.
Stay tuned in to Tom Joyner, Michael Baisden, Russ Parr, NPR’s News and Notes with Farai Chideya and the entire roundtable, Steve Harvey, and all the other Black media outlets who have kept the Jena Six issue at the forefront of America, even and especially without the conventional radar.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Camille Cosby
Last evening’s nightly news programs and “magazines” – Hardball with Chris Matthews, Hannity and Colmes, Anderson Cooper 360°, and all the other programs with professional talking heads – covered one story and one story only – the latest adventures and calamities of O.J. Simpson.
After covering Orenthal James as the main topic, blood for oil – oops – the war in Iraq was the topic. If not those 2 items, the talk was of President Bush’s nomination of Michael Mukasey for Attorney General and General Petraeus’ “it’s working” surge. Or, switch to another talking heald and it was MoveOn.org’s bashing of Rudy Giuliani and Hillary Clinton’s new take on an old universal healthcare plan. If none of those were the topics, it was certain to be Iran’s nuclear arsenal, Greenspan’s criticism, Blackwater’s ban, a polygamist’s trial, ACLU’s support of Larry Craig, or another recalled brand of bagged salad for suspected E. coli contamination. All important issues and events with very significant ramifications.
But did the atrocious events in Jena, Louisiana appear as anybody’s story or even as an item on the ticker tape rolling across the screen?
Even Black Republican and 2 time candidate Alan Keyes made the CNBC ticker tape for his entrance as a candidate into the 2008 presidential race.
Is this just another indication of how Black people are marginalized and ignored, or was I just watching the wrong channels?
Isn’t the social injustice, spurred by a racist district attorney in a small town of about 3,000 people, that impacts not only the victims and their families but the country as a whole, newsworthy? Isn’t it worthy of the same, if not more, fanatical media attention that Kevin Federline got being the target of an assassination plot? When thousands of Black and white people will converge on a city the size of Jena to ensure their presence is felt and voices heard regarding the inequity of the charges and treatment of Black students and people, doesn’t Sally Field’s cursing and political banter at the Emmy’s Sunday night pale in comparison?
Face it, nobody’s talking about Black people or what’s important to us, so you know nobody’s coming to save us. Don’t look for nobody. Don’t hold your breath for ‘em.
Which is just as well because nobody knows what we need better than we do. History has proven time and again that the only way we’ll realize freedom and justice is to go get it for ourselves – which is what we’ll seek on September 20 in Jena. The only way we’ll grasp economic security and social stability is to build for ourselves with our own pooled capital and resources, then spend our dollars among ourselves. We can’t wait for others to do for us what needs to be done by us. The mainstream news media won’t do it and local, state and federal governments certainly won’t do it. Besides, self-help doesn’t need the help of the media or any administration.
Stay tuned in to Tom Joyner, Michael Baisden, Russ Parr, NPR’s News and Notes with Farai Chideya and the entire roundtable, Steve Harvey, and all the other Black media outlets who have kept the Jena Six issue at the forefront of America, even and especially without the conventional radar.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 17, 2007
On reflection, one of the things I needed to learn was to allow myself to be loved.
-- Isha McKenzie-Mavinga
Allow yourself to be loved.
Allow others to pour over you as they wish, planting compliments, praise, and accolades all around you. Give them room to pat you on the back and tell you what a great job you’ve done. Let them honor you for your good works, place your name on the marquee, and give you a standing ovation each time your name is called.
Allow someone to do something for you. Oh sure, you can do it all by yourself and for yourself, but, today, if someone wants to help you, let them. Let them cut your grass, take out your trash, and walk your dog. Let them buy you lunch or fix your plate. Let them brush the lint from your shoulder.
Allow someone to touch your heart in the way it’s cried out to be felt. Speak your deepest thoughts and feelings to someone, letting them hear what you really need, then trusting them to provide it. Allow your vulnerabilities and availability to be exposed to someone who’s willing to care for you deeply. Open yourself up to intimacy, to closeness and familiarity. Trust someone with you, putting aside the fear that he or she will leave if they see and know the real you.
Allow someone to rub your hurting head, massage your aching back, and unnumb your tired feet. Allow them to undress you, emotionally and physically. Allow yourself to be engulfed in the freedom of expression as you let them wrap their arms around you and love on you. Let yourself relish the beauty of contented submission.
Hopefully all this isn’t too hard to fathom when you think on your past experiences. Hopefully misfortune hasn’t dampened your ability to even begin to imagine letting somebody love you fully and unconditionally. Prayerfully your emotional health is intact enough that all of this doesn’t sound incredulous.
Certainly you know this “Thought...,” was written just for you. Perhaps because you won’t allow yourself to be open to love, there’s not a soul knocking at your door to stay. Perhaps because you only allow room for a little love to be received, you only get a little love. Think about it – the last time someone complimented you, you tore holes into what they said and discounted their ability to make bright assessments (“She said I was attractive! I look like an old hag. My hair’s not done; my clothes are too big/little/raggedy. She must be crazy.”) And when your co-worker invited you for drinks, you immediately said you had lots of work to do or remembered you had to wash your hair then go see your mother. You won’t even give anybody a chance to love you. Imagine the wear and tear you’re giving to your psyche when you deny it the pleasures of love and consideration.
Imagine what it would feel like if there came a time when you could release yourself to being loved and loved on. Think on that for a moment.
Give yourself a chance. Allow yourself to be loved. If you’re having trouble allowing love in your life, talk with someone who can help you understand why you’re blocking those opportunities and let them help you to heal your maladies. Give yourself a chance. You deserve to be loved.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Isha McKenzie-Mavinga
Allow yourself to be loved.
Allow others to pour over you as they wish, planting compliments, praise, and accolades all around you. Give them room to pat you on the back and tell you what a great job you’ve done. Let them honor you for your good works, place your name on the marquee, and give you a standing ovation each time your name is called.
Allow someone to do something for you. Oh sure, you can do it all by yourself and for yourself, but, today, if someone wants to help you, let them. Let them cut your grass, take out your trash, and walk your dog. Let them buy you lunch or fix your plate. Let them brush the lint from your shoulder.
Allow someone to touch your heart in the way it’s cried out to be felt. Speak your deepest thoughts and feelings to someone, letting them hear what you really need, then trusting them to provide it. Allow your vulnerabilities and availability to be exposed to someone who’s willing to care for you deeply. Open yourself up to intimacy, to closeness and familiarity. Trust someone with you, putting aside the fear that he or she will leave if they see and know the real you.
Allow someone to rub your hurting head, massage your aching back, and unnumb your tired feet. Allow them to undress you, emotionally and physically. Allow yourself to be engulfed in the freedom of expression as you let them wrap their arms around you and love on you. Let yourself relish the beauty of contented submission.
Hopefully all this isn’t too hard to fathom when you think on your past experiences. Hopefully misfortune hasn’t dampened your ability to even begin to imagine letting somebody love you fully and unconditionally. Prayerfully your emotional health is intact enough that all of this doesn’t sound incredulous.
Certainly you know this “Thought...,” was written just for you. Perhaps because you won’t allow yourself to be open to love, there’s not a soul knocking at your door to stay. Perhaps because you only allow room for a little love to be received, you only get a little love. Think about it – the last time someone complimented you, you tore holes into what they said and discounted their ability to make bright assessments (“She said I was attractive! I look like an old hag. My hair’s not done; my clothes are too big/little/raggedy. She must be crazy.”) And when your co-worker invited you for drinks, you immediately said you had lots of work to do or remembered you had to wash your hair then go see your mother. You won’t even give anybody a chance to love you. Imagine the wear and tear you’re giving to your psyche when you deny it the pleasures of love and consideration.
Imagine what it would feel like if there came a time when you could release yourself to being loved and loved on. Think on that for a moment.
Give yourself a chance. Allow yourself to be loved. If you’re having trouble allowing love in your life, talk with someone who can help you understand why you’re blocking those opportunities and let them help you to heal your maladies. Give yourself a chance. You deserve to be loved.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 14, 2007
When you respond to me so that I feel special, it will make up for all those, who during the day, have passed me by without seeing me.
-- Leo Buscaglia
On a day like today, when you can’t be really sure who has your back, why they have it, and if they’ll have it for long, it’s nice to know you can walk in the door of your home and be regarded as the king or queen of the world by someone who loves and adores you.
As you navigate the world each day, you can bet the farm that somebody is going to pee on your parade, insult you, ignore you, second-guess you, discount you, curse you, and/or disrespect you, all quite possibly before 8:00 a.m. Before noon, you’ve taken several emotional and mental lashings, and by the time you say goodnight to the secretary, you’ve been cut up so badly, not even the king’s horses and men can put you back together again. But the warm smile, touch, hug, and listening ear of someone at home – your honey, your babies, your pets, or your friends – can certainly provide a seam that would at least keep you from cracking so easily the next day.
So what happens when there’s no one there to greet you, no one to say “honey, I’m home” to? What happens when you walk in to a dysfunctional empty home, a home that’s so dominated by turmoil, you’d just as soon be out in the frazzled world?
At all times you’ve got yourself to make you feel special. You’ve got you to bring home flowers to, to sing to, to run a warm bath for. You’ve got the one and only person who will always stick by your side no matter what, the one who knows what you need and can provide it for you every time. You’ve got you to be a friend to, mother to, father to, lover to. Tell yourself, “Self, when you respond to me so that I feel special, it makes up for all those, who during the day, have passed me by without seeing me.” Tamia actually says it best. She sings, “And her name is me and she loves me more than you’ll ever know... If you haven’t heard, she’s a bad chick...” Make and be good friends with yourself, the greatest person you’ll ever come to know. If no one else tells you you’re special, if no one sees who you are then treats you as special as you are, then you do it.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Leo Buscaglia
On a day like today, when you can’t be really sure who has your back, why they have it, and if they’ll have it for long, it’s nice to know you can walk in the door of your home and be regarded as the king or queen of the world by someone who loves and adores you.
As you navigate the world each day, you can bet the farm that somebody is going to pee on your parade, insult you, ignore you, second-guess you, discount you, curse you, and/or disrespect you, all quite possibly before 8:00 a.m. Before noon, you’ve taken several emotional and mental lashings, and by the time you say goodnight to the secretary, you’ve been cut up so badly, not even the king’s horses and men can put you back together again. But the warm smile, touch, hug, and listening ear of someone at home – your honey, your babies, your pets, or your friends – can certainly provide a seam that would at least keep you from cracking so easily the next day.
So what happens when there’s no one there to greet you, no one to say “honey, I’m home” to? What happens when you walk in to a dysfunctional empty home, a home that’s so dominated by turmoil, you’d just as soon be out in the frazzled world?
At all times you’ve got yourself to make you feel special. You’ve got you to bring home flowers to, to sing to, to run a warm bath for. You’ve got the one and only person who will always stick by your side no matter what, the one who knows what you need and can provide it for you every time. You’ve got you to be a friend to, mother to, father to, lover to. Tell yourself, “Self, when you respond to me so that I feel special, it makes up for all those, who during the day, have passed me by without seeing me.” Tamia actually says it best. She sings, “And her name is me and she loves me more than you’ll ever know... If you haven’t heard, she’s a bad chick...” Make and be good friends with yourself, the greatest person you’ll ever come to know. If no one else tells you you’re special, if no one sees who you are then treats you as special as you are, then you do it.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 13, 2007
... when we humans feel emotional pain because of events, we often create unconscious beliefs that help us cope. But coping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While it’s true that it’s better than giving up, there’s a high price to pay for adaptability.
-- Brenda Lane Richardson and Dr. Brenda Wade, “What Mama Couldn't Tell Us About Love: Healing the Emotional Legacy of Slavery, Celebrating Our Light”
Needless to say, we all have stressors in our lives, and on any given day, some of those events and pressures are unmanageable and far too heavy for us to navigate or see beyond. And because they are bigger or get bigger than we can gracefully and effectively handle, we develop masks and costumes to drape and protect ourselves from the situations, living on the surface of what ails and disturbs us, trying never to dig up the roots of our pain. Many times we find that it’s far easier to just cope with the circumstances of stress than it is to go to the source of that stress, address it, then alleviate it.
Which is why most of us are in the physical and psychological shapes and positions we’re in now.
Think on it. The pain you’ve experienced throughout your life, whether that pain be direct or that which flows through your genetic bloodstream, partly defines and creates what you think, feel, and do. Thus, if you believe the sky is falling, because one time it did, all of your actions, conscious or unconscious, will precipitate strategies useful for protecting yourself against the burn of the sun and the dark side of the moon. Likewise, if you believe the world is out to get you, because you’ve been gotten before, then every behavior, conscious or unconscious, will be directed at protecting yourself and possibly destroying others.
Thank you very much, Sadiqqa, for that basic psychological breakdown of animal nature, but the bigger point, however, is the examination of the outcomes produced as we hold true to some of the beliefs we’ve accepted as a result of our pain and stress. There is a high price to pay for adaptability or the settling in to a way of thinking and acting that doesn’t uplift and empower, but instead keeps us weak and powerless.
Adapting to, or tolerating, unfairness and inequality because you believe all you can get is this very little you’ve been receiving breeds resentment. For instance, if you feel devalued on your job, once you resent being undervalued, you may decide to slow down your output which ultimately puts you in jeopardy of losing your job. And when they hand you the pink slip, you then feel angry and become belligerent and need an escort off the property. Had you disputed and refused the inequity in the beginning, believing you deserved to paid and treated fairly, you would not be sitting on your couch surfing through the want ads today. And now, your resentment is even deeper than it was before.
Adapting begets narrow-mindedness; you can only see what you see and what you see is very limited. Because you have acquiesced to capitalist, individualistic ways of thinking, you believe anything less or else is foreign and needs to speak and sound the way you do. As well, when you believe and accept, unconsciously or not, that you’re a second-class citizen, you act in marginalized ways and help to create perceptions that keep you forever oppressed. Thus, if you believe you don’t belong, you actions will show such and others will likely endorse your belief.
So unless you change for the better what you believe about your experience and pain, then question fully what you are willing to cope and live with, anger, resentment, distress, and any other debilitating thing will seep from your crippled Self and guide every single move you make. If you never want to get ahead, if you never want to reach your fullest potential, if you never want to overcome, stay stuck where you are.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Brenda Lane Richardson and Dr. Brenda Wade, “What Mama Couldn't Tell Us About Love: Healing the Emotional Legacy of Slavery, Celebrating Our Light”
Needless to say, we all have stressors in our lives, and on any given day, some of those events and pressures are unmanageable and far too heavy for us to navigate or see beyond. And because they are bigger or get bigger than we can gracefully and effectively handle, we develop masks and costumes to drape and protect ourselves from the situations, living on the surface of what ails and disturbs us, trying never to dig up the roots of our pain. Many times we find that it’s far easier to just cope with the circumstances of stress than it is to go to the source of that stress, address it, then alleviate it.
Which is why most of us are in the physical and psychological shapes and positions we’re in now.
Think on it. The pain you’ve experienced throughout your life, whether that pain be direct or that which flows through your genetic bloodstream, partly defines and creates what you think, feel, and do. Thus, if you believe the sky is falling, because one time it did, all of your actions, conscious or unconscious, will precipitate strategies useful for protecting yourself against the burn of the sun and the dark side of the moon. Likewise, if you believe the world is out to get you, because you’ve been gotten before, then every behavior, conscious or unconscious, will be directed at protecting yourself and possibly destroying others.
Thank you very much, Sadiqqa, for that basic psychological breakdown of animal nature, but the bigger point, however, is the examination of the outcomes produced as we hold true to some of the beliefs we’ve accepted as a result of our pain and stress. There is a high price to pay for adaptability or the settling in to a way of thinking and acting that doesn’t uplift and empower, but instead keeps us weak and powerless.
Adapting to, or tolerating, unfairness and inequality because you believe all you can get is this very little you’ve been receiving breeds resentment. For instance, if you feel devalued on your job, once you resent being undervalued, you may decide to slow down your output which ultimately puts you in jeopardy of losing your job. And when they hand you the pink slip, you then feel angry and become belligerent and need an escort off the property. Had you disputed and refused the inequity in the beginning, believing you deserved to paid and treated fairly, you would not be sitting on your couch surfing through the want ads today. And now, your resentment is even deeper than it was before.
Adapting begets narrow-mindedness; you can only see what you see and what you see is very limited. Because you have acquiesced to capitalist, individualistic ways of thinking, you believe anything less or else is foreign and needs to speak and sound the way you do. As well, when you believe and accept, unconsciously or not, that you’re a second-class citizen, you act in marginalized ways and help to create perceptions that keep you forever oppressed. Thus, if you believe you don’t belong, you actions will show such and others will likely endorse your belief.
So unless you change for the better what you believe about your experience and pain, then question fully what you are willing to cope and live with, anger, resentment, distress, and any other debilitating thing will seep from your crippled Self and guide every single move you make. If you never want to get ahead, if you never want to reach your fullest potential, if you never want to overcome, stay stuck where you are.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 12, 2007
Have a mouth as sharp as a dagger but a heart as soft as tofu.
-- Chinese proverb
And speaking of tofu, try something new today. Tofu is good for your heart; it’s high in protein and absorbs the taste of anything you add to it. You may want to try tofu in a vegetable stir fry or add some brown sugar, a little chili powder and red pepper flakes to your favorite homemade barbecue sauce, cut up a block of tofu, let it marinate in your sauce for a couple of hours, then toss it on the grill for about 5 minutes. Serve it up with a little eggplant, asparagus, and corn-on-the-cobb.
And try your barbecued tofu with some carambola, okay, starfruit. Some varieties taste like grapes, others like green apples. But wait, you may not want to eat too many starfruit if you’re diabetic; they’re high in sugar and acid. Instead, and if you can get past the funny-looking seeds, perhaps you may want to try a pomegranate. Or, with your tofu and eggplant, you could try a little grenadine – sweetened pomegranate juice – in your cocktail tonight. Perhaps you’d enjoy a little Sex on the Beach. The drink of vodka, triple sec, orange juice, lemon lime soda, schnapps, Jack D., and grenadine, that is.
Or, perhaps a bit of sex on the beach wouldn’t be something too darned awful to try. But, if you can’t get to the beach tonight, try sex in a new position. Touch your honey in a new and more pleasing way. Do something with your honey you’ve been too shy or afraid to try.
If that’s too steamy for you, keep it simple – kiss goodnight, get up earlier, go to work, and try a new route home from work this afternoon. Drive through parts of town you aren’t that familiar with and take in the differences from one part of town to the next. Stop at the local Thai restaurant and pick up some Satay Tofu. When you get home, instead of immediately jumping into your evening household duties, take 30 minutes to debrief about the day and get it out of your system. Try relaxing tonight; feed your honey a little tofu. Maybe you’ll feel like sleeping in the pajamas you’ve been reserving for a special occasion. Perhaps those pajamas may create visions and motions of sex on the beach.
Tomorrow, try wearing your hair a different way. Try saying something nice to that fool that chafes your butt all day long. Try loving your enemies. Get some more love from your honey. It’s all good for your heart. Just like tofu.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Chinese proverb
And speaking of tofu, try something new today. Tofu is good for your heart; it’s high in protein and absorbs the taste of anything you add to it. You may want to try tofu in a vegetable stir fry or add some brown sugar, a little chili powder and red pepper flakes to your favorite homemade barbecue sauce, cut up a block of tofu, let it marinate in your sauce for a couple of hours, then toss it on the grill for about 5 minutes. Serve it up with a little eggplant, asparagus, and corn-on-the-cobb.
And try your barbecued tofu with some carambola, okay, starfruit. Some varieties taste like grapes, others like green apples. But wait, you may not want to eat too many starfruit if you’re diabetic; they’re high in sugar and acid. Instead, and if you can get past the funny-looking seeds, perhaps you may want to try a pomegranate. Or, with your tofu and eggplant, you could try a little grenadine – sweetened pomegranate juice – in your cocktail tonight. Perhaps you’d enjoy a little Sex on the Beach. The drink of vodka, triple sec, orange juice, lemon lime soda, schnapps, Jack D., and grenadine, that is.
Or, perhaps a bit of sex on the beach wouldn’t be something too darned awful to try. But, if you can’t get to the beach tonight, try sex in a new position. Touch your honey in a new and more pleasing way. Do something with your honey you’ve been too shy or afraid to try.
If that’s too steamy for you, keep it simple – kiss goodnight, get up earlier, go to work, and try a new route home from work this afternoon. Drive through parts of town you aren’t that familiar with and take in the differences from one part of town to the next. Stop at the local Thai restaurant and pick up some Satay Tofu. When you get home, instead of immediately jumping into your evening household duties, take 30 minutes to debrief about the day and get it out of your system. Try relaxing tonight; feed your honey a little tofu. Maybe you’ll feel like sleeping in the pajamas you’ve been reserving for a special occasion. Perhaps those pajamas may create visions and motions of sex on the beach.
Tomorrow, try wearing your hair a different way. Try saying something nice to that fool that chafes your butt all day long. Try loving your enemies. Get some more love from your honey. It’s all good for your heart. Just like tofu.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 11, 2007
There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
-- Anais Nin
In 2007 – 53 years after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that separate public schools for black and white students denied black children equal educational opportunities; 52 years after Emmett Till was kidnapped, beaten, shot, and drowned in Mississippi’s Tallahatchie River after having whistled at a white woman; 50 years since the Little Rock Nine enrolled in Little Rock Central High School amid threats and surrounded by federal guard; 43 years after legislation that outlawed segregation in schools and public places; 39 years after a leader was killed on a balcony for unabashedly speaking the truth instead of scratching his head – one small Southern town in central Louisiana is still “lynching black folk.
And we’re not keeping quiet about it!
Tavis Smiley, Tom Joyner, Al Sharpton, National Public Radio, and hordes of other vocal leaders and the media are headed to Jena, Louisiana on September 20 to let the natives there know that hell no, we won’t take no mo’!
Thus was the conversation on Monday’s Michael Baisdon Show when one caller made a huge point. She said that while we were right to be offended and pack the busses that will descend on Jena in a week, what about the issues happening in our individual back yards? What about aggressive gentrification in predominately African American communities funded by everybody but black folk? What about the mislabeling and herding of African American boys into special education and alternative, non-college track programs? What about losing your home because a lender believed you to be a high-risk borrower because you are black and convinced you to agree to unfair and abusive loan terms? The response Baisden gave was that we had to start somewhere and an issue as blatantly racial as “Jena Six” could not be ignored.
He’s right, something of that nature can’t be ignored and we do have to start with some cause. But, that’s the problem. We keep starting then stopping. We get mad about something that happens to us, rile the cavalcade, speak out, protest, and have prayer vigils with lighted candles. When the dust settles, the only ones left are those who had a prize pony in the show in the first place.
We start, we stop. And when a new offense rises, something that really ruffles our feathers and disrespects who we are, we start again. Then, we stop again.
Ooh look, isn’t that Warner Music Group still signing misogynist rappers to their label? Another “bitch” and “ho” ride the turntable and play the club.
We start, we stop, and each time we stop, we take some of the air out of our fight. We take even more air out of our credibility as a people who care and want justice when we pursue an issue just because it’s the most obvious and the loudest.
Certainly “Jena Six” is an issue we must all get behind, and certainly there are a plethora of other maddening problems and situations we must seize to improve as well. The issue though is we can’t start out strong to alleviate a thing, then when the wind changes, or our most vocal say so, we’re off to something else. We’ll never find solutions, closure, or peace if we keep stopping.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Anais Nin
In 2007 – 53 years after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that separate public schools for black and white students denied black children equal educational opportunities; 52 years after Emmett Till was kidnapped, beaten, shot, and drowned in Mississippi’s Tallahatchie River after having whistled at a white woman; 50 years since the Little Rock Nine enrolled in Little Rock Central High School amid threats and surrounded by federal guard; 43 years after legislation that outlawed segregation in schools and public places; 39 years after a leader was killed on a balcony for unabashedly speaking the truth instead of scratching his head – one small Southern town in central Louisiana is still “lynching black folk.
And we’re not keeping quiet about it!
Tavis Smiley, Tom Joyner, Al Sharpton, National Public Radio, and hordes of other vocal leaders and the media are headed to Jena, Louisiana on September 20 to let the natives there know that hell no, we won’t take no mo’!
Thus was the conversation on Monday’s Michael Baisdon Show when one caller made a huge point. She said that while we were right to be offended and pack the busses that will descend on Jena in a week, what about the issues happening in our individual back yards? What about aggressive gentrification in predominately African American communities funded by everybody but black folk? What about the mislabeling and herding of African American boys into special education and alternative, non-college track programs? What about losing your home because a lender believed you to be a high-risk borrower because you are black and convinced you to agree to unfair and abusive loan terms? The response Baisden gave was that we had to start somewhere and an issue as blatantly racial as “Jena Six” could not be ignored.
He’s right, something of that nature can’t be ignored and we do have to start with some cause. But, that’s the problem. We keep starting then stopping. We get mad about something that happens to us, rile the cavalcade, speak out, protest, and have prayer vigils with lighted candles. When the dust settles, the only ones left are those who had a prize pony in the show in the first place.
We start, we stop. And when a new offense rises, something that really ruffles our feathers and disrespects who we are, we start again. Then, we stop again.
Ooh look, isn’t that Warner Music Group still signing misogynist rappers to their label? Another “bitch” and “ho” ride the turntable and play the club.
We start, we stop, and each time we stop, we take some of the air out of our fight. We take even more air out of our credibility as a people who care and want justice when we pursue an issue just because it’s the most obvious and the loudest.
Certainly “Jena Six” is an issue we must all get behind, and certainly there are a plethora of other maddening problems and situations we must seize to improve as well. The issue though is we can’t start out strong to alleviate a thing, then when the wind changes, or our most vocal say so, we’re off to something else. We’ll never find solutions, closure, or peace if we keep stopping.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 10, 2007
Before falling in love, I was defined. Now I am undefined, weeds are growing between my ribs.
-- Joyce Carol Oates
When you were single, you thought knew everything you needed to know about yourself. You knew what made you happy. You could specifically identify why you were feeling a certain way, and you clearly understood the direction in which your life was headed. You could control most things in your life and knew exactly how things would respond to you in return.
Then you went and got partnered up...
Let it first be said that there is beauty, solace, and sacrosanctness in being part of a couple. Being loved, feeling love, and loving in return are the foundations upon which nations are built and the phenomena that keep many homes intact. Loving someone as completely as you can is the stuff of God by which the angels constantly kiss your forehead. Being in love is such a wonderful thing it makes your head think of nothing else and your heart skip a beat. Which is probably the reason weeds are growing between your ribs – you can’t think to breathe!
When you allowed your partner into your life, into your space, into the intimacy of your heart, the things you thought you knew about yourself became a little fuzzy. You thought you were an eloquent speaker on most topics. Now you find you’re a bumbling idiot who can’t seem to get your thoughts straight, or what you do say sounds like the dumbest @#*% you’d ever said in your life. You once believed your moods were the most even in the world, but now, even the slightest disagreement can turn you into Medusa. Before loving as you do, you thought you had life all together. Now you don’t even know whose life you’re living, or, on some days, whether you’re living at all. Sometimes you even think that being single was much less trouble. At least you could sleep in the middle of the bed and walk around on Sunday afternoons in the unsexiest pajamas you owned. Well, you could still do that now, but you’d have to hear your honey’s mouth or see the repugnance on their face. And that’s new, too; before love, you didn’t care what anybody thought. Now...
All kinds of new things about you have come to the surface since you began loving your honey; things you had no clue about, things that make you feel you’ve lost yourself.
But, in fact, you’ve been found! Whether you know it or not, or believe it or not, your partner is helping you to grow into your true Self, the Self you were always meant to be, the one you could not be without having experienced the love you’re in now. So what if you can’t always find the words you need to complete a sentence? Isn’t that what honeys are for – to understand us enough to complete our sentences? You may arbitrarily turn into Medusa, but if you’ll recall your Greek mythology, Medusa, whose name is synonymous with “defender,” was considered beautiful and relished her ability to protect herself; perhaps your preservation instinct is reserved for your honey as well. And really, isn’t it better to pull life together with someone who loves you no matter the weather, tenor, ugly pajamas, or intensity of life?
You’re not lost; you’re stretching, expanding, opening up, and becoming. Don’t be afraid, don’t shy away. Enjoy getting to know more of yourself and enjoy being in love.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Joyce Carol Oates
When you were single, you thought knew everything you needed to know about yourself. You knew what made you happy. You could specifically identify why you were feeling a certain way, and you clearly understood the direction in which your life was headed. You could control most things in your life and knew exactly how things would respond to you in return.
Then you went and got partnered up...
Let it first be said that there is beauty, solace, and sacrosanctness in being part of a couple. Being loved, feeling love, and loving in return are the foundations upon which nations are built and the phenomena that keep many homes intact. Loving someone as completely as you can is the stuff of God by which the angels constantly kiss your forehead. Being in love is such a wonderful thing it makes your head think of nothing else and your heart skip a beat. Which is probably the reason weeds are growing between your ribs – you can’t think to breathe!
When you allowed your partner into your life, into your space, into the intimacy of your heart, the things you thought you knew about yourself became a little fuzzy. You thought you were an eloquent speaker on most topics. Now you find you’re a bumbling idiot who can’t seem to get your thoughts straight, or what you do say sounds like the dumbest @#*% you’d ever said in your life. You once believed your moods were the most even in the world, but now, even the slightest disagreement can turn you into Medusa. Before loving as you do, you thought you had life all together. Now you don’t even know whose life you’re living, or, on some days, whether you’re living at all. Sometimes you even think that being single was much less trouble. At least you could sleep in the middle of the bed and walk around on Sunday afternoons in the unsexiest pajamas you owned. Well, you could still do that now, but you’d have to hear your honey’s mouth or see the repugnance on their face. And that’s new, too; before love, you didn’t care what anybody thought. Now...
All kinds of new things about you have come to the surface since you began loving your honey; things you had no clue about, things that make you feel you’ve lost yourself.
But, in fact, you’ve been found! Whether you know it or not, or believe it or not, your partner is helping you to grow into your true Self, the Self you were always meant to be, the one you could not be without having experienced the love you’re in now. So what if you can’t always find the words you need to complete a sentence? Isn’t that what honeys are for – to understand us enough to complete our sentences? You may arbitrarily turn into Medusa, but if you’ll recall your Greek mythology, Medusa, whose name is synonymous with “defender,” was considered beautiful and relished her ability to protect herself; perhaps your preservation instinct is reserved for your honey as well. And really, isn’t it better to pull life together with someone who loves you no matter the weather, tenor, ugly pajamas, or intensity of life?
You’re not lost; you’re stretching, expanding, opening up, and becoming. Don’t be afraid, don’t shy away. Enjoy getting to know more of yourself and enjoy being in love.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 7, 2007
... I end the essay here, not telling you the particulars, as a demonstration of what, because of battering rather than constructive criticism, is sometimes lost.
-- Alice Walker, from “Getting as Black as My Daddy” in Anything We Love Can Be Saved
Huh?
Yeah, this is an odd thought. Especially since it doesn’t seem to connect itself.
Well, that’s the whole point. Alice Walker wrote this ending to an essay after reflecting on the many attacks she’d received over the years from writing about what’s real in the world and what’s real to and for her. She stopped writing right inside the essay’s argument against the dullness of writing about one’s personal life and interests, leaving readers with space to only imagine what this Pulitzer Prize winning writer could have composed and concluded. She squashed what she’d started to write and, as a result, an incomplete essay was born.
Now even for writers like Alice Walker whose many novels, short stories, poetry, and works of non-fiction have won numerous awards and accolades, criticism is off-putting, even damning as public libraries and schools ban their works because they are deemed too whatever. But for the most part, such condemnation doesn’t make them quit doing what they do best. But, for the rest of us mere mortals, disapproval and disparagement from others are often what stop our dreams from coming to fruition.
Take, for instance, equal pay for women. Still, in 2007, women, who, in many cases, provide half if not all of their families’ support, receive 77 cents to every dollar men receive. However, when lawmakers have opportunities to put teeth in 40-year old policies that can rectify this injustice, arguments about how often and easily women leave the workforce to have and care for families or that women aren’t as ambitious as men surface and override any attempts at economic reconciliation for women. So then what happens? Activist for such change are silenced and sent back to their dens, the issue returns to the back-burner, and women and families still struggle to make ends meet. Women and their families have essentially been told “no,” “shut up, and sit down” and they end up settling for the 77 cents and sacrifices too numerous to count.
Okay, maybe that was an opportunity to advance a platform, but hopefully you see the point – when criticized, no matter what the issue, we shut down and sit down.
Okay, think of something as simple – compared to the issue above – as starting your own business. Cynics and detractors will tell you day in and out that what you’re planning is impossible, that it’s already been done, or that you will surely fall on your face and end up alone with no one to love you in the middle of the night because you drove everybody away with your talk about this business. If you’re like most of us, you’ll stop your talk of business, or maybe slow it down until sometimes later. You’ll put your business plan on the shelf for later, but, because of the barrage of criticism and doubt, quite possibly that widget and gadget you imagined will never be created, tested, or sold. Thus, your widget will never save someone’s life or, at the very least, make life better.
The assaults to what we believe in, what we do, and what we fight to sustain can cause us to become mellow or less driven, and our journey practically purposeless. In the end, if we aren’t thoughtful about the harsh criticisms thrown our way, allowing them to steal our ambition, outlet, platform, and ability to move forward, we could leave empty space where something should have been said or done in order to further humankind.
Still yourself against the attacks that come at you. Don’t curb or silence your voice. Don’t change your words and don’t bow out. Be bold, hold your own, keep going, and never end your thought before you’ve said everything you need to say.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Alice Walker, from “Getting as Black as My Daddy” in Anything We Love Can Be Saved
Huh?
Yeah, this is an odd thought. Especially since it doesn’t seem to connect itself.
Well, that’s the whole point. Alice Walker wrote this ending to an essay after reflecting on the many attacks she’d received over the years from writing about what’s real in the world and what’s real to and for her. She stopped writing right inside the essay’s argument against the dullness of writing about one’s personal life and interests, leaving readers with space to only imagine what this Pulitzer Prize winning writer could have composed and concluded. She squashed what she’d started to write and, as a result, an incomplete essay was born.
Now even for writers like Alice Walker whose many novels, short stories, poetry, and works of non-fiction have won numerous awards and accolades, criticism is off-putting, even damning as public libraries and schools ban their works because they are deemed too whatever. But for the most part, such condemnation doesn’t make them quit doing what they do best. But, for the rest of us mere mortals, disapproval and disparagement from others are often what stop our dreams from coming to fruition.
Take, for instance, equal pay for women. Still, in 2007, women, who, in many cases, provide half if not all of their families’ support, receive 77 cents to every dollar men receive. However, when lawmakers have opportunities to put teeth in 40-year old policies that can rectify this injustice, arguments about how often and easily women leave the workforce to have and care for families or that women aren’t as ambitious as men surface and override any attempts at economic reconciliation for women. So then what happens? Activist for such change are silenced and sent back to their dens, the issue returns to the back-burner, and women and families still struggle to make ends meet. Women and their families have essentially been told “no,” “shut up, and sit down” and they end up settling for the 77 cents and sacrifices too numerous to count.
Okay, maybe that was an opportunity to advance a platform, but hopefully you see the point – when criticized, no matter what the issue, we shut down and sit down.
Okay, think of something as simple – compared to the issue above – as starting your own business. Cynics and detractors will tell you day in and out that what you’re planning is impossible, that it’s already been done, or that you will surely fall on your face and end up alone with no one to love you in the middle of the night because you drove everybody away with your talk about this business. If you’re like most of us, you’ll stop your talk of business, or maybe slow it down until sometimes later. You’ll put your business plan on the shelf for later, but, because of the barrage of criticism and doubt, quite possibly that widget and gadget you imagined will never be created, tested, or sold. Thus, your widget will never save someone’s life or, at the very least, make life better.
The assaults to what we believe in, what we do, and what we fight to sustain can cause us to become mellow or less driven, and our journey practically purposeless. In the end, if we aren’t thoughtful about the harsh criticisms thrown our way, allowing them to steal our ambition, outlet, platform, and ability to move forward, we could leave empty space where something should have been said or done in order to further humankind.
Still yourself against the attacks that come at you. Don’t curb or silence your voice. Don’t change your words and don’t bow out. Be bold, hold your own, keep going, and never end your thought before you’ve said everything you need to say.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 5, 2007
There are those who believe Black people possess the secret of joy and that it is this that will sustain them through any spiritual or moral or physical devastation.
-- Alice Walker
It is literally quite possible that Black people do possess the secret of joy. How else could we have crossed the 3,000 plus miles of the Atlantic Ocean from the West Coast to the Americas; 400 to 700 deep; shackled in cramped, unsanitary quarters in the bowels of a ship; eating one meal a day of beans and yams if such scant foods were available; diseased, frightened and depressed; not knowing of destination or fate; yet surviving in spite of it all? Somewhere deep within us, we held a secret of unmitigated and inexorable contentment that got us through the hardship of the journey we traveled.
It’s likely that we possess the secret of joy. How else could the 10 million of us who survived the trip from West and Central Africa have been dropped off in Hispaniola (present day Haiti and the Dominican Republic); Jamaica; Guatemala; El Salvador; Trinidad; Cuba; Jamestown, Virginia; and Columbia, South Carolina – all unwelcoming lands whose inhabitants’ sole intention was to create economic gain for themselves on the backs of our minds and spirits? Without the secret of innate joy imploding within us, how could we have lived through people selling our babies away from us as punishment; stealing sex from our girls and women because they could; emasculating our virile men to break their warrior energy; and splitting up the remnants of families just to show who was boss? The secret of paradise to come had to be what sustained spirits lost in the crush of chattel life.
We must possess the secret of joy. What other way could we have moved from the murky South, settled into an indifferent North, and moved fearlessly in the uncultivated West? What other way could we have stayed in the South, only to receive the lashes of Jim Crow, the nooses, the water hoses, the Ku Klux Klan, and Southern government? What other way could we have created a great migration northward to work in industrialized cities like Detroit and Chicago, leaving behind the only lives and family we knew? What other thing but a deep-seated secret of joy could have made us toil through Native American and Spanish territory that was as dry, dusty, and desolate as the moon was far?
We do possess the secret of joy.
This secret of joy probably has nothing to do with “the” secret touted by Oprah and Larry King, the one that basically says what you ask for and believe in you receive. Certainly Black folks didn’t ask for any of the above injustices, experiences, or off-chances, so this can’t be the secret referred to here unless, in fact, deep within the crevices of our Selves, we somehow looked beyond our circumstances, asked for freedom and redemption, believed it would be given to us, and ultimately received it in some form or fashion. Perhaps Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy had access to The Secret’s Emerald Tablet before the book and movie even came into existence. Humph, who knows? Who really cares?
Perhaps the secret we’ve possessed is one that has no definition, no name, no real form or content. Perhaps it just is and it just makes us do and be and live.
Certainly that same secret exists within each of us today. It’s got to in order for us to keep pushing through some of the things we endure daily. Thankfully it’s not the same stuff our ancestors encountered. Or is it?
Your secret of joy is at work right now, operating somewhere with the confines of your spirit. If you look and listen closely, presumably you can feel it churning. If you can’t, it’s in your best interest to keep pushing until you do so that one day we can remember and tell the stories of survival to babies who will need to know such a secret exists and that they do indeed possess it.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Alice Walker
It is literally quite possible that Black people do possess the secret of joy. How else could we have crossed the 3,000 plus miles of the Atlantic Ocean from the West Coast to the Americas; 400 to 700 deep; shackled in cramped, unsanitary quarters in the bowels of a ship; eating one meal a day of beans and yams if such scant foods were available; diseased, frightened and depressed; not knowing of destination or fate; yet surviving in spite of it all? Somewhere deep within us, we held a secret of unmitigated and inexorable contentment that got us through the hardship of the journey we traveled.
It’s likely that we possess the secret of joy. How else could the 10 million of us who survived the trip from West and Central Africa have been dropped off in Hispaniola (present day Haiti and the Dominican Republic); Jamaica; Guatemala; El Salvador; Trinidad; Cuba; Jamestown, Virginia; and Columbia, South Carolina – all unwelcoming lands whose inhabitants’ sole intention was to create economic gain for themselves on the backs of our minds and spirits? Without the secret of innate joy imploding within us, how could we have lived through people selling our babies away from us as punishment; stealing sex from our girls and women because they could; emasculating our virile men to break their warrior energy; and splitting up the remnants of families just to show who was boss? The secret of paradise to come had to be what sustained spirits lost in the crush of chattel life.
We must possess the secret of joy. What other way could we have moved from the murky South, settled into an indifferent North, and moved fearlessly in the uncultivated West? What other way could we have stayed in the South, only to receive the lashes of Jim Crow, the nooses, the water hoses, the Ku Klux Klan, and Southern government? What other way could we have created a great migration northward to work in industrialized cities like Detroit and Chicago, leaving behind the only lives and family we knew? What other thing but a deep-seated secret of joy could have made us toil through Native American and Spanish territory that was as dry, dusty, and desolate as the moon was far?
We do possess the secret of joy.
This secret of joy probably has nothing to do with “the” secret touted by Oprah and Larry King, the one that basically says what you ask for and believe in you receive. Certainly Black folks didn’t ask for any of the above injustices, experiences, or off-chances, so this can’t be the secret referred to here unless, in fact, deep within the crevices of our Selves, we somehow looked beyond our circumstances, asked for freedom and redemption, believed it would be given to us, and ultimately received it in some form or fashion. Perhaps Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy had access to The Secret’s Emerald Tablet before the book and movie even came into existence. Humph, who knows? Who really cares?
Perhaps the secret we’ve possessed is one that has no definition, no name, no real form or content. Perhaps it just is and it just makes us do and be and live.
Certainly that same secret exists within each of us today. It’s got to in order for us to keep pushing through some of the things we endure daily. Thankfully it’s not the same stuff our ancestors encountered. Or is it?
Your secret of joy is at work right now, operating somewhere with the confines of your spirit. If you look and listen closely, presumably you can feel it churning. If you can’t, it’s in your best interest to keep pushing until you do so that one day we can remember and tell the stories of survival to babies who will need to know such a secret exists and that they do indeed possess it.
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 4, 2007
For most of my life, I had felt my spirituality was confined to a certain set of church ideas and rules. When I realized I could find spiritual expression in beating a drum, painting a picture, cooking a meal, playing a game, or singing a song, I finally understood the divine presence in all things.
-- Shelia Ellison, “The Courage to be a Single Mother”
Yes, there is Divine Presence in all things, like in the sun setting, in the clouds rolling, and in the raindrops falling. Divine Presence is in the trees billowing in the wind and the grass turning green each Spring. Divine Presence is in the coo and smile of a baby, the “puppy breath” of a week-old puppy, and the tender wrinkles on the hand of a gentle old man. God manifests Himself in all these things. The Divine Presence is everywhere.
Divine Presence was near last week when you cussed out that co-worker who is always in your business. Divine Presence was at the football game Saturday night when the other team won and you shot your middle finger at the coach then looked up to see yourself and your action on the stadium’s big screen monitor. Divine Presence even sat next to you Sunday morning when you stared that lady up and down as she walked in church an hour late in that little red dress and all that hair and makeup looking, you thought, like she’d just come from the club. Divine Presence saw you turn up your nose and felt you judge her.
Divine Presence is not only everywhere, it’s always available for access. You can tap into the power and presence of God at any time, even when the kids are working your last good nerve. You can tap God even when your honey-love is being stupid and selfish. You can tap it even when the boss is bigoted, sexist, and racist and has no clue that she is. You can tap into the Presence even when the world is fighting and you seem to be the ground that’s getting trampled. You can enter, open, retrieve, and approach the Divine Presence at any time you feel the need.
And Divine Presence is everywhere and available to everybody who believes it so. So not only are you getting the breath and touch of God, so is the lady in the red dress. Divine Presence is there with her, too. She’s also God’s baby, y’know.
A preacher friend said Sunday, Jesus is always in the room, no matter where you’re sitting or standing, no matter what you’re doing. You’re never alone and you never have to face anything on your own. Just as you can find peace and presence in the blowing of the trees, so can you when times aren’t as peaceful. Just remember to tap in to the presence and energy of God. He’s right there. Feel Him?
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Shelia Ellison, “The Courage to be a Single Mother”
Yes, there is Divine Presence in all things, like in the sun setting, in the clouds rolling, and in the raindrops falling. Divine Presence is in the trees billowing in the wind and the grass turning green each Spring. Divine Presence is in the coo and smile of a baby, the “puppy breath” of a week-old puppy, and the tender wrinkles on the hand of a gentle old man. God manifests Himself in all these things. The Divine Presence is everywhere.
Divine Presence was near last week when you cussed out that co-worker who is always in your business. Divine Presence was at the football game Saturday night when the other team won and you shot your middle finger at the coach then looked up to see yourself and your action on the stadium’s big screen monitor. Divine Presence even sat next to you Sunday morning when you stared that lady up and down as she walked in church an hour late in that little red dress and all that hair and makeup looking, you thought, like she’d just come from the club. Divine Presence saw you turn up your nose and felt you judge her.
Divine Presence is not only everywhere, it’s always available for access. You can tap into the power and presence of God at any time, even when the kids are working your last good nerve. You can tap God even when your honey-love is being stupid and selfish. You can tap it even when the boss is bigoted, sexist, and racist and has no clue that she is. You can tap into the Presence even when the world is fighting and you seem to be the ground that’s getting trampled. You can enter, open, retrieve, and approach the Divine Presence at any time you feel the need.
And Divine Presence is everywhere and available to everybody who believes it so. So not only are you getting the breath and touch of God, so is the lady in the red dress. Divine Presence is there with her, too. She’s also God’s baby, y’know.
A preacher friend said Sunday, Jesus is always in the room, no matter where you’re sitting or standing, no matter what you’re doing. You’re never alone and you never have to face anything on your own. Just as you can find peace and presence in the blowing of the trees, so can you when times aren’t as peaceful. Just remember to tap in to the presence and energy of God. He’s right there. Feel Him?
Sadiqqa © 2007
Sep 3, 2007
We met… and from then on, it became impossible ever again to give up completely. I have given some thought to why this should be. I believe it was love. When once you have encountered it, you will never sink again. Then you will always yearn for the light and the surface.
-- Peter Hoeg
On any given day, on each movie channel, in each song on the radio, out of the mouths of the storytellers at your local coffee house poets’ showcase, on the tips of your friends’ tongues, and always on your mind is the longing for and/or maintenance of true, lasting, and fulfilling love. And what people won’t do to get it and keep it is fascinating, and in some cases, frightening. But, it almost can’t be helped – once you’ve tasted what love can be, you want nothing less; no substitutes, no pieces here or there, you want the whole kit and caboodle. Is it any wonder why there’s so much talk and thought about love?
Think of the Shulamite and the shepherd in the Song of Solomon. Talk about desire and yearning! Of course most biblical scholars interpret such longing as that between God and His people or the physical yearnings of husband and wife. Whatever the interpretation, you can’t ignore the intensity for love with which the characters in the story implore from one another and how this longing is so primal and innate that to disregard or discount it is a tragedy to the very spirit of love and a slight to ones Self and survival. We were made for tender, passionate, meaningful love, the give and take of it, and the profound and exhausting experience it gives rise to. Having this kind of love gives us strength and character and helps us make it through most days.
So what is this guttural feeling of love, this love that can’t be denied, the love that’s true, lasting, and fulfilling? Can you put a finger on it? Do you know what it looks like?
I’m convinced that it exists even if you don’t feel it right now or if you’ve never felt it. Somewhere deep within the caverns of your Self is a longing waiting to be touched. A longing that knows what it needs and will identify it, ring your bell, and set you on fire when the love it wants even breathes your way. The longing within you will move you to grab hold of the love it’s found, wrap yourself around it, pour everything you have into and on it, and have your nose open so wide that nothing else will do. Should that fulfilling feeling of love ever leave, you miss it like nothing else, possibly search again for it, and know how to deny something else when it comes suited up to look like love.
If you live inside that yearned for love right now, care for it and protect it it. Some say love is fleeting, but believe that true love never dies. Cover it and make sure your longed for love is always at home getting fed something wholesome and being nurtured as often as it calls for. Should it only be temporary, never let it say you didn’t treat it well and right during its stay for it may decide to not rear its head again. You don’t want underground, flaky love. That’s not what you long for.
This “Thought...,” may be the result of watching too many Sunday afternoon love movies, reading an overabundance of novels about unrequited love or love gone awry, or listening to a flood of Sunday night Quiet Storm programs on the radio, but, know this – once love has been roused, either in the mind or off the paper, to put it back to sleep is the most disloyal task you’ll ever commit upon your Self. There’s no way to ever deny the yearning within you to have by your side true, lasting, and fulfilling love.
Sadiqqa © 2007
-- Peter Hoeg
On any given day, on each movie channel, in each song on the radio, out of the mouths of the storytellers at your local coffee house poets’ showcase, on the tips of your friends’ tongues, and always on your mind is the longing for and/or maintenance of true, lasting, and fulfilling love. And what people won’t do to get it and keep it is fascinating, and in some cases, frightening. But, it almost can’t be helped – once you’ve tasted what love can be, you want nothing less; no substitutes, no pieces here or there, you want the whole kit and caboodle. Is it any wonder why there’s so much talk and thought about love?
Think of the Shulamite and the shepherd in the Song of Solomon. Talk about desire and yearning! Of course most biblical scholars interpret such longing as that between God and His people or the physical yearnings of husband and wife. Whatever the interpretation, you can’t ignore the intensity for love with which the characters in the story implore from one another and how this longing is so primal and innate that to disregard or discount it is a tragedy to the very spirit of love and a slight to ones Self and survival. We were made for tender, passionate, meaningful love, the give and take of it, and the profound and exhausting experience it gives rise to. Having this kind of love gives us strength and character and helps us make it through most days.
So what is this guttural feeling of love, this love that can’t be denied, the love that’s true, lasting, and fulfilling? Can you put a finger on it? Do you know what it looks like?
I’m convinced that it exists even if you don’t feel it right now or if you’ve never felt it. Somewhere deep within the caverns of your Self is a longing waiting to be touched. A longing that knows what it needs and will identify it, ring your bell, and set you on fire when the love it wants even breathes your way. The longing within you will move you to grab hold of the love it’s found, wrap yourself around it, pour everything you have into and on it, and have your nose open so wide that nothing else will do. Should that fulfilling feeling of love ever leave, you miss it like nothing else, possibly search again for it, and know how to deny something else when it comes suited up to look like love.
If you live inside that yearned for love right now, care for it and protect it it. Some say love is fleeting, but believe that true love never dies. Cover it and make sure your longed for love is always at home getting fed something wholesome and being nurtured as often as it calls for. Should it only be temporary, never let it say you didn’t treat it well and right during its stay for it may decide to not rear its head again. You don’t want underground, flaky love. That’s not what you long for.
This “Thought...,” may be the result of watching too many Sunday afternoon love movies, reading an overabundance of novels about unrequited love or love gone awry, or listening to a flood of Sunday night Quiet Storm programs on the radio, but, know this – once love has been roused, either in the mind or off the paper, to put it back to sleep is the most disloyal task you’ll ever commit upon your Self. There’s no way to ever deny the yearning within you to have by your side true, lasting, and fulfilling love.
Sadiqqa © 2007
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