Hello “Damn you!.” Good to see you!

In January, I carefully and zealously picked out my beloved, beautiful locs of 13 years. I had no plan for my hair other than to get it washed, conditioned well, and pressed once a month. That simple plan has been a good plan. No chemicals. No fancy hair cuts. A little high maintenance given my curl pattern and its instinctive tendencies, but, nonetheless, a good plan.

Like so many women, though, I equate the condition of my hair with how I feel about myself. When my hair looks pretty and healthy, I feel pretty and healthy. When it looks a hot mess, guess what? I feel a hot mess. The same was true when I wore locs. When they were fresh, clean, and the new growth tamed, I felt the same way – fresh, clean and, uh, tame. I’ve tried to deny the association, to psychologically will myself to a separation, but I can’t. I’m caught up like that. Sorry, India.Arie, I AM my hair!

Sigh…

After taking out my locs, a dear friend said to me, “Wow. Those were your trademark.” Of course she meant no offense and I took none. But, she was right! My locs defined me. In 1997 they meant I was a woman who defied societal groupthink. I was a woman who refused to be invisible, who stood out in the crowd, who was different by choice. In Nashville, my locs said, “Damn you, norms and tradition! Damn you, oh approved standards of beauty! Damn you, conformist, you mainstream unadventurous followers!” Among the crowd I worked in, my locs said, “I don’t give a flip what you think of me. I’m here. I’m staying. Deal with it!”

Now with my freshly pressed hair, there is no, “Damn you.” It’s just hair like everyone else’s. And with hair like everyone else’s, who does that mean I am?

Sigh...

Now, on a couple of occasions I tried the wash-n-go look, the Maxwell/Terry McMillan afro. Geez, did that take a lot of energy and attitude! I couldn’t keep up the sassiness that look required. That’s just not who I am. I’m a press-n-curl girl. But what does that mean?

Does it mean I can’t be a part of the natural hair dialogue? Does it mean I should not belong to the natural hair blogs that declare unprocessed, untouched hair the epitome of “good hair” and accepting/appreciative of one’s ancestral roots?” Am I now invisible/regular/just another Black woman? Well, wait, I’ve NEVER been “just another Black woman” so scratch that one. But, I have felt invisible and regular (and suspect when visiting the natural hair sites).

But, on second thought, what do “invisible” and “regular” have to do with my hair?

Give your brain as much attention as you give your hair and you’ll be a thousand times better.
-- El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X)

I don’t want to be invisible or regular. There’s no way I can be because I have a helluva brain. And now that I can no longer hide behind my hair – ooh, revelations! – this not-just-another-Black-woman has to speak for herself and stand out in the crowd in another way. I’ve got to free myself/show up/speak out, then, my hair will follow. Not the other way around.

Sigh… No more easy outs.

Or… because I’ve got this helluva brain, maybe I just AM a “Damn you!” kinda chick and it had nothing to do with my hair at all.

Maybe because I was unclear about the facility/power/gift of my brain, I allowed my hair to take on a life of its own and personify my “Damn you!” attitude. Maybe it was easier to show my “Damn you!” when everybody thought the hair meant “Damn you!” Perhaps my locs were the scapegoat I felt necessary for others to endure a resolute Sadiqqa. And now, perhaps I’ve unconsciously bought into the thought that pressed hair is quiet and conventional, more unobjectionable. I’ve involuntarily squashed my “Damn you!”

No wonder I’ve been missing me!

“Damn you!” is my air of confidence and competence that supersedes hairstyle, clothing, or any other outward thing that can be discarded/changed/shelved. No more excuses, disguises, or whipping boys vis-à-vis hairstyles to be who I really am – a “Damn you!” woman! I’ll be damned if let my hair do the talking/thinking/being any longer. Damn you hair complexity and psychology!

Now that I think about it, that’s the real reason I let go of my locs in the first place – so I could see me. I am NOT my hair!

Hello “Damn you!.” Good to see you!

Don’t run away from home…

Don’t run away from home in the middle of a storm.
-- Cynthia Copeland Lewis, “Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me”

The rain has been pounding. Lightening has lit up the sky and the thunder has been roaring. The sky is dark and the clouds are heavy. There’s not a trace of sunshine. The storm seems to be endless.

I am seeking a reprieve from the storm. I want it to go away. I’m exhausted from the repetitiveness of the rain and thunder, worn out from the darkness, done in by the clouds. But then, I’m not even sure I’d recognize the sunshine if it showed up.

I’d be skeptical that it’d stay around.

I’m not normally a pessimist but this storm has dampened my sanguinity and buoyancy. With every raindrop, I find myself wallowing deeper into dismay and sullenness. Nothing stops the rain.

My red floral rain boots don’t even help me wade through the flood anymore.

I’ve tried leaving home in the storm but it followed me. I’ve tried dancing in the storm but that felt forged and contrived; I can’t fool myself. I’ve tried pleading with the storm to go away but it just rains harder.

I’ve prayed for the storm to end, but it just keeps raining.

I guess I just gotta wait for the storm to pass. I’ll keep my eyes out for the rainbow. I’ll anticipate the sunshine. I know those rays will be worth the wait.

I’m in the middle of the storm and I have nowhere else to go.

Most of the luxuries,

Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but … hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
-- Henry David Thoreau

I was hanging out with new friends a couple of months ago when one of them asked to carpool with me to the place we were headed because her husband would be using the car.

Husband using the car?

THE. Car.

They. Have. One. Car.

One.

Wow…….

After I got over the amazement – amazed because, one, I don't know any 2 parent families, chocked full of responsibilities/obligations/activities, who don't have at least 2 cars and, two, because my sometimes linear mind keeps me charmed and spellbound on indulgences/excess – I considered the repercussions and possibilities of a family owning only one car.

To any situation, there are 2 sides, and with this one car deal, I immediately tuned into the downside of the situation. For starters, having one car means you have to wait for somebody to pick you up; you can't just jump in your car and go when you're ready, when you want to, or where you want to. One car means you have to sync your schedule with all the other folks in your household so that everything gets done and all needs are met. It means that sometimes you might have to sit at the house and wait for somebody to bring the car back so you can use it. And what if they bring it back with the gas hand pointed at empty?

Having only one car means that it becomes sort of a nondescript taxi cab. The car has to accommodate everybody and their stuff which could mean the car becomes weighed down and messy, possibly looking like the inside of a storage facility. And if you have to have a vehicle that can haul everything and everybody, it probably has to be a van and they aren't necessarily hip. Well, some are, but, how can you really style around town in a 5-door passenger van with a 3^rd rear seat full of the family's extracurricular gear in tow? Not real cool.

One car in the family means the car is not really YOUR car so you can't outfit it to specifically reflect your tastes or who you are. No good-luck fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror, at least not without the other requisite hanging items – work badges, lanyard library cards, the kids' graduation tassels, and pine tree deodorizers to neutralize the mixture of everybody's smells. Having one car means you probably shouldn't trick it out with fancy dash and body kits, polished chrome grilles, flaming red and black safari stripes, a lift-kit, or big foot wheels and rims. That's NOT a good look for a car-seated mini-van or the car that takes you and honey to the office every day.

But, then, when I thought of the possibilities, the opportunities, the upside of a family owning one car, oh my, how the pros far outweighed any of the cons above!

Well, first, let me be honest. I had to make myself think about the pros and possibilities. I almost had to drink a whole pot of coffee to get my thoughts flowing about the good things that one car for the family means!

Foremost, one car means SAVING money. One car gets filled up at the gas pump. Insurance is paid on one car. Maintenance costs are only expended on one car. Most importantly, there's only one car note. Of course, if the family drives a well-maintained fuel efficient vehicle, and each driver observes the speed limit and drives without road rage, a family can save a huge amount of money better spent elsewhere.

Driving one car leaves a smaller footprint on the planet. According to Tom and Ray, the guys of Car Talk, each year one car typically emits about six tons of carbon dioxide, gases responsible for changing the earth's climate. Too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere acts as a blanket over the earth which causes the temperature to rise, which ultimately causes crops to fail and catastrophic illnesses and weather. Although even driving the family's one car contributes to global warming, my friend's family is less responsible for the planet's destruction than are family's with 2 or more cars.

But the thought that touched me more than any of the other pros and that made the cons a big "so what!," was the opportunity to have/develop/preserve family time.

In an age where the demands on our time are monumental, and the actual time we get to spend with our families decreases by the minute, owning one family car offers up some of the lost opportunities to connect. Though not face-to-face –'cause you better be watching the road – you have and are a captive audience to hear/share thoughts and have conversations that are meaningful, motivating, and enjoyable; you can even have conversations that are difficult because you don't have to look one another in the face. Riding together in the one car gives everybody inside a chance to keep up, catch up, and get genially caught up in the lives of the others.

Now, if you're like me where you're constantly having conversations in your head – whether others are present or not, having one car means you gotta get out of your head so that you can be tuned into and available to the other folks in the car. Having one car means you must intentionally stay present and admit only the moments before you. It means slowing down – which we could all stand to do; deliberately listening to what the other people in the car have to say – or what they're not saying; appreciating the occasion to be with the others at that very moment and time; and when your focus slips away from the moment, bringing it back not with just an "uhn-huh," but with a genuine, "I'm sorry, I went in my head and missed a moment of you. Please repeat what you just said." For us introverts, that's tough and it takes much concerted practice. But not being and living in the moment, especially if it's in the car with the people you share your life with, means you lost a conscious moment, an experience, even an adventure, in your life. And, you know, you only get one of those. Certainly you don't want to skim the surface and miss any part of it!

And lastly, driving one family car may mean that sometimes you're the passenger, which means you get to checkout the scenery of the city or wherever you're driving. It means you not only get to see the cross and flowers on the side of the road, but you also get to read the name on the cross for which they were placed. Being a passenger in the family's one car may mean you notice the small green roundness of the olives on the big old Olive tree in the inner courtyard of the toughest neighborhood in the city, and it may mean you may get to wave back at the smiling old lady seated on her porch who waves warmly at each passing vehicle that travels down her rundown and deserted street. And, after you've seen these things once, because you've seen these things, your awareness of them and their meaning has in some way changed your life and, not only will you never mindlessly pass that way again, perhaps your awareness has taken on a clarity and intensity that now defines all you do and could only have been gained by riding shotgun in the family's one car.

And you get to talk about that with the driver and the other people in the car!

So, so what if you have to ride with your daughter's leotard, tu-tu, and ballet shoes or your son's cleats, mouthguard and cup. So what if you can't make the car your very own. So what if you have to wait for somebody to pick you up or catch a ride with a friend. Maybe your friend will be inspired by your family's commitment to owning only one vehicle, too.

If names are not correct…

If names are not correct, language will not be in accordance with the truth of things.
-- Confucius

The "Thought…," has a new name! I am now "Thinking – Out Loud…"

See, it has bothered me that I don't write a "Thought…," everyday. I mean, I think daily. A few years ago, I used to be able to think then write then go to bed and get up in the morning, go to work then come home, think some more then write. Every day. Or, at least, every other day. I'm not even sure how I did it then with a kid, a full-time job, and a bunch of other responsibilities, but I did it. All I can chalk it up to now is age because I certainly haven't stopped thinking.

As a matter of fact, I think so much, I'm surprised my head hasn't blown open from the pressure! I'm often deep in thought, caught somewhere in my head rolling stuff around until I've considered every point, side, angle, position, perspective, and part. I'm guilty of over-thinking a thing because I've stayed in my head. I'm guilty of coming to faulty/salty/jumbled conclusions because I've relied on the answers concocted in my head. At bedtime, I often have a slight headache from carrying so many thoughts around in my head!

So, to relieve some of that pressure, I began some years ago writing the "Thought…," or "Thought for the Day," hoping to get on paper all the stuff in my head – whether that stuff was good, bad, or indifferent. I also hoped my thoughts in writing would impart a bit of inspiration and encouragement – whether what I wrote was good, bad, or indifferent.

But I'm not writing what I think about every day, and, in actuality, that's probably a good thing given where this brain train often goes. Really, it's good that you get spared some of this matter! But, geez, am I thinking about a lot of stuff! And it's stuff you probably think about, too!

So, enter the name change, "Thinking – Out Loud…"

I am "Thinking – Out Loud…" simply because the "Thought…," is no longer – hasn't been in a long while – a thought for the day. It gives you a glimpse into where my brain is at any given time, and most importantly, it relieves the guilt I feel for not writing every day. Plus, I don't have to wait until after midnight now to send a thought for the day to you. I can do it anytime!

So I begin (or continue?) "Thinking – Out Loud…"

Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words…

Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language, and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and enjoying. The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having things.
-- Elise Boulding

Driving through town the other day with a car full of delightful passengers, I stated – with some dismay – that we could not joyride and take in the sights of the area because I had recently spent over $60 to fill my gas-guzzling SUV. While each of the passengers – including me – grew sour-faced, we looked around at the other vehicles on the road and realized that most of them were gas-guzzling trucks and SUVs as well! None of us on the road could ride free. We all had to make a straight shot to where we were going then go directly back to where we came from or risk having to refill the tank too soon.

One of my passengers remarked that driving a smaller car would eliminate the use of lots of gas while another countered with, "You can't get as much stuff in a smaller car." Somebody else then said, "Well, why do you have to carry so much stuff?"

Well, ding, ding, ding, that's the point! And the question is not only why do we have to carry so much stuff, but why do we have to have so much stuff to begin with?

When I first moved into my house almost 20 years ago, I believed I needed to fill it with stuff – furniture, fixtures, decorations, all the things I thought said "comfort" or "home." Years later, I look around at all this stuff and wonder WTH I was thinking. I have become a frequent visitor to the Goodwill donation sites around town, giving away just about everything I've accumulated over the years. But I still have tons of stuff in my house.

Which ultimately spills over to my truck. I carry a bin in the trunk to collect odds and ends but it often becomes cluttered with stuff from the house, stuff we should have taken back into the house when we got out of the car. Eventually all that stuff weighs my car down, which means I end up burning more fuel.

And speaking of extra pounds, what about all the pounds we keep on our bodies? Certainly that adds to the weight we carry in our cars. We've got to get rid of that trunk junk, too.

And what about all the negative emotions, worries, and past hurts/pains we carry around with us? That's extra weight to our psyches and shoulders, weight we shouldn't carry around. You know what happens with all that emotional weight to consider, carry, and deal with – we end up trying to cover up/hide from/compensate for the sense of lack/discomfort/fear/uncertainty/chaos the weight brings. And we do it by accumulating more stuff! More stuff to carry, house, and hold onto.

It's easy to make a run to Goodwill, call the ARC, give your stuff away on Freecycle, or upload it for sale on Craigslist. It's easy to pare down what you eat. And, sometimes – ((sometimes)), it's easy to monitor what you allow to enter your consciousness. But unless we make mindful lifestyle changes, we'll be constantly saddled with unnecessary stuff to tend. In order to make life uncomplicated/lighter/less cumbersome/simpler, we must think differently about the stuff around us. We must evaluate the necessity of all that we allow into our lives, make careful decisions about the things we choose to own, and eliminate for good the things that we don't need. And, while sometimes these are hard choices, we must make them for our health, sanity, and freedom.

Eliminating the unnecessary from your life, be it furniture, material possessions, cars, friends, or worry, makes life simpler, even happier. Fewer possessions means not having to keep up with stuff, clean it, care for it, and most importantly, have a place for it. Think on this – if you don't have a lot of stuff, you don't have to have a big house to put stuff in, which means smaller heating/cooling and electricity costs (read: less energy consumption), smaller mortgage/rent, and even fewer repairs. It also means being intentional about valuing and maintaining calm, clutter free, less-is-more space, and including only those things that meet your everyday needs, speak to who you are, and bring you tranquility, comfort, and joy. Having less stuff in your home means you can really be at home.

And when you begin to eliminate stuff from your home, reducing or disposing of the other stuff in your life becomes more deliberate as well. Who says we have to have 800 Facebook friends? We don't keep in touch with 800 friends at one time, do we? We don't have all 800 friends at our house at one time, do we? Really, if you think about it, we may only have 20 – 30 people in our everyday lives, 20 – 30 people (if that) who have easy access to us daily. Yeah, it feels good to keep in touch your old childhood friends; they are special. But, really, if you hadn't kept up with them before Facebook, would you really miss them now?

Okay, maybe... Anyway, this isn't a scribe about Facebook, but it wouldn't hurt to consider who you give right of entry /attention to. Some people make life harder than it has to be.

And consider our eating habits. Needing only to eat when necessary – and not just because we're hungry for something – might mean that we would eat on purpose and be healthier. This means we'd eat more grains, fruits, and fresh vegetables; more legumes which are excellent sources of fiber and protein; and, of course, drinking more water. And none of this means you have to spend an exorbitant amount of money. It could mean a weekly visit to the local farmers market or growing your own fruits and vegetables – from pots on the patio, if you want to; finding a natural food store and stocking up on grains and beans to add to your home- or farm-grown vegetables, and drinking water straight from the tap you pay for every month! Just add a filter to the faucet to eliminate the yucky taste of chlorine and whatever else the city uses to purify the water.

If you eat healthier, you'll find yourself losing unnecessary body weight, and there's no way you'll want to put it back on! Exercising even a little preserves a healthy weight. It also increases mental sharpness, improves your mood, and greatly diminishes the stress that can make you ball into the fetal position and want to forget it all.

And once there's less of you physically, you'll want less of yourself to be consumed. No more hectic schedules or burdensome obligations and commitments to clutter your mind and time – you didn't lose all that material and physical weight to do more stuff; you're paring it all down. Because the less you do, the less stretched and more focused you are. Oh yeah, we can do many things; we're awesome multitaskers. But, really, do you want to do so much? And, do you do all the things you do well, or do you just meet the mark with the hundreds of things you're obligated to do? Think about it – if you did one or a few things, wouldn't you do them/be so much better? Happier?

Ultimately, we must become more frugal, or thrifty and prudent, in our ways. The more we have, the less we have – less freedom/happiness/peace. The more we have, the less we and our opportunities are. We become what we have and all the material/physical stuff we have keeps us limited in some capacity. Being frugal means being free to live.

I'm for giving up on the "American Dream" of consumerism and obsession with material abundance. I'm for living simple – owning, having, eating, doing, and being that which does not hinder living. I want to be thoughtful about the way I use energy, time, space, and myself. I've enlisted the help of Leo Babauta, Tsh Oxenreider, and Courtney Carver. It's all a process, but these are working for me and a lifestyle change that'll lead to peace, happiness, and freedom.

Freedom to joyride with delightful passengers because we're not hindered by gas prices!

So, why do I drive a gas-guzzling SUV? Vanity, I guess. There are certainly thousands of cars on the market I'd look good in that boast better fuel efficiency than my brown Explorer. But while giving up the brown truck is not (necessarily) in the near future for me, driving more efficiently by cutting down on my trips via a pared down schedule and carrying less junk in the trunks is certainly on the menu. The joyrides will just have to wait.

I will act now.

I will act now. I will act now. I will act now. Henceforth, I will repeat these words each hour, each day, every day, until the words become as much a habit as my breathing, and the action which follows becomes as instinctive as the blinking of my eyelids. With these words I can condition my mind to perform every action necessary for my success. I will act now. I will repeat these words again and again and again… If I delay, success will become wed to another and lost to me forever. This is the time. This is the place. I am the person.
-- Og Mandino

 To sit at the computer for hours on end moving cartoon characters around a diner or fashion boutique, providing speedy customer service to hungry, cranky, and impatient fictional characters while trying to keep them from becoming dissatisfied with your service, talking to the programmed characters as though they can hear and respond, and trying to earn big tips and achieve the expert status so items can be bought to create a better looking restaurant or stylish shop has got to be the worst use of my time ever!

Nonetheless, I am a Diner Dash/Fashion Dash fan!

Wait, did I say fan? I meant fanatic!

I've played Diner Dash and Fashion Dash for hours a day, pausing only long enough to refill my coffee, fix the kid a plate (not meal, plate), and take a QUICK bathroom break. Each time I get to a new level, I say to myself, "After this level, I'm going to stop and go get something done." Levels later, it's dark outside, my kid is hungry again, and nothing has gotten done. I've even played so much that I've dreamed of playing in my sleep!

And can I tell you how disappointed I am when I actually finish the whole game, expert levels and all! What a let down as I try to figure out what to do next!

Researchers say these kinds of time management games are good for helping you think on your feet and help improve memory, concentration, and mental speed. There must be something to this because while I strategically seat the boutique's old ladies next to one another so they can gossip, I can listen to and sing music, think on a problem I'm having, and monitor what GG is doing in her room!

But, really, I'm not fooling myself. Scoring an extra 100 points because the diners were fed expediently doesn't provide me with any life points. Yeah, playing helps me think and come up with solutions to quandaries, but, really, I use these games to escape reality/time/responsibilities. In the midst of going from level to level, I often ask myself, "what else could I be doing, what would I rather be doing?" I can quickly come up with an impressive list of other things to do.

What I've found is that while I'm building brain matter, I'm not using it if I don't apply it to do the other things I could/would rather be doing. What good does better eyesight, enhanced problem-solving skills, or increased perceptual/spatial ability do when I stay caught in a web doing the same thing day-in and day-out? What is the benefit of greater focus, improved hand-eye coordination, and greater boosts in dopamine that help to reduce stress when I seem to chase my tail instead of stepping outside my circle of comfort and actually going for some of the things on the list of what I would rather be doing instead of playing the stinking games all day? What good is better brain activity if I'm only using it on brainless, rote, everyday activity? That's like tactically seating Flo's customers at a table then not feeding them so they end up leaving.

Yeah, so my frame of reference is Diner Dash…

Really, the time that it takes to seat 4 feisty businesswomen away from a cranky, crying baby and her family is the time I could have spent sharpening my own feisty business woman skills or keeping my cranky kid from disturbing others.

The time it takes to design a new boutique is the same time it takes to craft a new "Thought…,." Putting in a jewelry display or new dressing booth does not beat writing a scribe that could shed light on a new way of living and being.

Cleaning up the spilled meal of a Diner Dash family is in no way as remarkable as repairing a relationship or checking in with friends and family.

Flying from cartoon boutique to cartoon boutique has nothing on walking in the park, driving down the highway past old barns and grazing cows, or flying over the earth headed to a real boutique.

Serving different foods to play customers compares very little to enjoying the good foods offered by restaurants in and outside the city. Or creating a garden to eat my own food off my own land.

Seating the Starlets and Heiresses next to the Gentlemen so they can get their flirt on never beats flirting or connecting in real life, especially when the regard is returned!

You'll be glad to know that for Lent I have given up playing Diner Dash, Fashion Dash, Gem Swap, Mahjong Solitaire, and any other computer game. Instead, I'm listening for God and taking on some of the things on the could/would rather list. Forty days is time enough to break a habit and act on what's real.

They say if you put the newly acquired brain skills to work, they stick around. I'm going to act now before my brain turns to mush!

I’m choosing happiness over suffering

I'm choosing happiness over suffering, I know I am. I'm making space for the unknown future to fill up my life with yet-to-come surprises.
-- Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

 I've spent a lot of time worrying/unsettled/discontented over a countless number of things – money (not enough of it)/work (too much of it)/love and relationships (little understanding of them). I've worried over my weight, my hair, my hips, my home, and my heart. I've worried that on tomorrow there would be even more to worry about than today.

I've worn worry like it was an exotic perfume. I'd place a dab of anxiety on my neck and chest; slap some fret on my thighs; and smear a bit of melancholy on the pulse points of my wrists, knees, and ankles. Then, I'd leave my house, engage my friends and family, and talk with the babies at school reeking of the rotten smell of worry. I should have tossed that decanter of funk a long time ago. It has chafed and fatigued my shoulders and made it difficult to discern the more pleasant scents of assurance/contentment/joy/fun. How I wish I'd realized earlier that this scent was too heavy for my sanctified frame. Instead, I continued to reapply it every day.

If only I'd ingested Matthew 6:25-34 which implores me to not worry about anything 'cause, very simply, Jehovah Jireh , the God who provides, got me. I wonder how many years I've taken off my life because of so much worry.

Humph, I won't worry about that.

In its place, I'm opting to concern myself with the way Elohim cares and provides for me and how, in the scheme of it all, I've never missed a beat. Sure, I've fallen a few times, scraped my knees and ego, had my heart broken. But Elohim always picked me up and salved me down real good in powerful grace and mercy, breathed fresh and better life/opportunities/possibilities into my mind, heart, and soul so I could keep going/rise to a new level/see, experience, and love a new me. I'm replacing worry for the Word on my life – that Elohim holds my right hand and helps me (Isaiah 41:13), that Elohim will give me rest from my burdens (Matthew 11:28), and that Elohim is always present in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Why, then, should I worry over anything?

Instead, I'm choosing to concern myself about things like what kinds of vegetables to plant in my garden next week. Perhaps I'll plant some spinach, bush beans or pole beans, green peppers, and banana peppers. I'll plant some kale or collards, cucumbers, and tomatoes; maybe a few herbs like thyme, rosemary, oregano, and chives. I'm pretty excited about using my dad's tiller. I remember when he had a fabulous vegetable garden every summer! And, I can't wait to channel my grandfather and Aunt Ruby while tending this food in the soil! Imagine how much praying and praising I can do in my own little garden. No worries will be aloud there!

And it's time – past time – to paint my house, both inside and out. Instead of worrying about things I can't change or control, I'm going to chew on whether to paint my bedroom a shade of green that conveys a cheerful, optimistic energy or an earthy shade like "fallen timber" or "fresh brew" to remind me of my wholesomeness, warmth, and honesty. The shutters and porch need a bit of attention – heck, the whole house is in need of love and care. And my yard could use a mimosa or dogwood tree? How about I throw myself into turning my house back into a home instead of throwing myself into a tailspin of worry about what only Elohim is in charge of.

And there was a woodpecker in the neighborhood the other day. How about I watch for her and her other friends (the cardinals, warblers, blue jays, mourning doves, sparrows, and the hummingbird that peeked into my picture window last summer)? Maybe I'll set them up a couple of birdhouses. Instead of distressing over Elohim's children, I'll listen to and watch His morning song makers.

Ooh, and I want to learn Spanish, write daily, and cut myself some slack! Drink some good wine and cook good, healthy food. Dance through the house to Parliament-Funkadelic and Lonnie Liston Smith; talk with my friends over coffee, Moscato, and soul-stirring music. Go hiking and whitewater rafting; vacation by the lake and get up early to watch the fish jump while drinking scrumptious cups of coffee and eating homemade waffles! Coach some people through life, hang out my own shingle, and watch it blow in the wind.

No more worrying or distressing. I'm tired of its weight, stench, and missed opportunities. Sure, some things will cross my mind and make me twist my lips in wonder, but no more agonizing/losing sleep/cocooning. Life is too short and I only have one to live. The bandit of worry has stolen, killed, and destroyed long enough. Jesus came so that I would have life more abundantly and, starting now, I will not continue to dis what Jesus came to do.

I'm making room for the good stuff. No worries, just life's good stuff. Bring. It. On!

… Something to hold me while I’m waiting.

… Something to hold me while I'm waiting.
-- Rev. Monica A. Coleman, Ph.D


I've never been a big fan of waiting. I'm not fond of long lines, the long details before getting to the point, or waiting a long time at the doctor's office.


I hate that it takes the toaster nearly 2 minutes to crisp my waffle. I hate that it takes my coffee pot 4.5 minutes to brew enough coffee to fill my cup. I can't stand that it takes my antiquated computer roughly 7.2 minutes to completely boot up, and I find it absolutely insufferable that it takes the brown truck 15 minutes to be warm enough for me to comfortably drive. I can barely wait for night to fall so I can go back to bed, and I so have an aversion to waking at 4:30 a.m. then waiting for the alarm to go off at 5:00.


It drives me nuts to wait for someone to do something for me. It makes me equally as crazy when I have to wait to get a thing fixed because I didn't wait for someone else to do something for me. I hate waiting for payday. I hate waiting for Friday. And don't put me on a waiting list or tell me to hold on while you take the call on the other line 'cause guess what? I ain't waitin'!


Most of all – I. Hate. Waiting. For. The. Seasons. To. Change.


Now I'm not talking about winter to spring to summer to fall, not those seasons. Well, not necessarily. In a few weeks I'll be pretty sick of waiting for the earth to tilt again and bring on a bit more sunshine. Soon, the wait to see the leaves budding on the undressed trees and hear the cheerful singing birds of spring will have a negative impact on my moods making me sour and salty company. And even when spring does roll around, I'll tire of waiting for summer to turn over, then I'll tire of waiting for summer to end and fall to begin, and so on. That wait is a never ending cycle that I've learned to tolerate. But I'm not talking about those seasons.


I'm referring to the seasons of life, particularly the difficult/uncomfortable periods of life shift and makeover we all go through simply because we're alive. Each of us experiences phases of grief, sorrow, disappointment, loneliness, heartbreak, sickness, distress of some kind. There isn't one of us under God's sun who hasn't been subjected to the lows and recessions that come with living. Doesn't matter how holy and righteous you live, rain falls upon us all. Just ask Job, a man God characterized as "blameless and upright," who, even after losing everything and prodded to curse God, said "… should we accept good from God, and not trouble?"


Oh, for the conviction of Job. And, oh for his patience...


The patience in waiting for the storms/tests/ordeals to be over is part of what makes the hard seasons of our lives the toughest. And if you're like me who hates to wait for many things, your tough season will only be tougher to get through.


So, I have resolved that in order to travail through the season in which I now travel, I have to exercise a little lot more patience – and stop hating so much of the waiting. There are tools and tackle I am using to comfort and instruct me as I attentively/intentionally wait and wade through this time in my life. I have things I'm holding to while I wait.


First and foremost, I regularly seek Elohim's desire for my life right now. On my nightstand and in the basket by my bed are several Bibles. I have four versions – the NIV, the New International Reader's Version (NIRV), my dusty King James, and the conversational version of the Bible, The Message. I switch back and forth between them as I try to understand what God is calling me to do/be/feel/know/learn at this time. I even carry a small Good News Translation of the New Testament, Psalm and Proverbs in my purse just in case I get tripped up while I'm outside the house. It's possible, y'know.


Every morning – once I get over waiting for 5:00 – I thank Elohim for another day then reach for my freshly charged Blackberry where several devotional emails and feeds await me. I start with BibleGateway.com's "Verse of the Day", which reminds me of Elohim's covering over my life and keeps me centered as I take my first few conscious breaths of the day. I then scroll to the Upper Room Daily Reflections to read expressions of Elohim's goodness and reread the week's lectionary scriptures. Then I read The Christian Meditator to be sure I've got my mind wrapped around Elohim before I even attempt to take on the new mercies of the day.


There are quite a few other devotionals and blogs I read throughout the day and week. I especially enjoy Girlfriends in God, Daily Reflections from the Upper Room's Alive Now, and the Upper Room Daily Devotional one of my favorite friends dutifully sends me each day. (Bless you, Robert!) For further encouragement as I shed the unnecessary stuff in my life, I read awesome blogs about simplifying my life like Be More with Less; Zen Habits; Living the Balanced Life; and Becoming Minimalist. And among the many blogs I've stumbled upon, I absolutely love, love, love! Positively Present because it encourages me to stay alert to right now – not on what happened yesterday or what may happen tomorrow.
    
I love to read, but I also love to sing. I'm listening to and singing music that inspires me and encourages me to feel life, its perplexities and joys. Singing with my church choir feels really good, even when we're playing around and remembering the words to "Felix the Cat!" And last night, I sat on my den floor with my humming and popping Donny Hathaway, Roberta Flack, Switch, Andre Crouch, and Crusaders albums singing at the top of my lungs! That was great, guttural feeling.


And, I'm cooking! Got me and my kid on weekly meal plans! No more eating out unnecessarily. I've found I end up with a little more pocket change when we eat this way. Eventually, pocket change adds up. I'm waiting for that… patiently waiting.


Therapy, family, my church, a little exercise, and a solid group of friends who are venturing and waiting through their own seasons keep me grounded and focused on right now and being alright. They keep me from balling up in the fetal position, pulling the covers over my head, and crying my eyes out until the uncertainty/upheaval/disorientation of this journey is over. And each of them, in their own way, let me know that a chilled bottle of De Bortoli Emeri Pink Moscato is also good while waiting. In moderation, of course.


Most importantly, my GG helps me stay on purpose and walking as gracefully as I can through this season of mine. She watches my expressions and hangs on to my moods watches me as I walk and grow in faith – and she watches when I throw my personal tantrums because the waiting feels too long. GG watches me as I learn to truly love and honor myself, and she's listening to me when I tell her that she should always guard against losing herself or allowing anyone to water down her salt or dim her light (Matthew 5:13-14). Because God gave me earthly charge of my girlchild, I've got to show her not only a faithful and obedient posture, but one that's authentic so that she has seen how to both fall apart AND put yourself back together. I have to stay hopeful and anticipatory about life's possibilities so that she can too. And you and I both know that takes a whole lot of energy so I have my hands full. So full that taking my time in this season is not only imperative, it makes sense!


So I'll wait patiently for God and with all the things and people that seem to have been designed just for this season in my life. And, who knows, maybe I can help somebody while they're waiting for their season to change.

It is a great deal easier to do that which God gives us to do

It is a great deal easier to do that which God gives us to do… than to face the responsibilities of not doing it.
-- B. J. Miller

A few days ago I had a doctor’s appointment. I made this appointment a while ago so I was well prepared for it, laying out our clothes the night before and setting the alarm so we wouldn’t be rushed. The morning of my doctor’s visit, we followed our regular got-somewhere-to-be routine and left the house in plenty of time. I got GG where she needed to be and had roughly 50 minutes before I had to be at my doctor’s appointment.

Since I had so much time to spare, I decided to take a different route than the one I usually took to get to the doctor’s office. I believed this route would be shorter – it wouldn’t take me around the city like the other route did, and although it was an unfamiliar route, I knew that my keen sense of direction would guide me and still get me there in enough time. I even had enough time to stop and get coffee, even though I’d already had 2 cups.

… even though my intuition told me to go the route I knew.

Funny thing about intuition – sometimes its infusion into your thoughts is so swift and subtle, you disregard it. I presumed that thinking about the other route was just me doubting my ability to figure out the new route. Besides, I had plenty of time to work it out. So, on I drove.

… and on… and on… and on… and… on…

An hour and 10 minutes later, I stood at the doctor’s receptionist’s desk rescheduling my appointment because I’d missed it.

Had I simply – and I mean SIMPLY – obeyed my instincts – God’s gentle, divine, and all-knowing prompting – a ride that should have only taken 20 minutes would not have taken a full hour! If I had followed my first thought/that still quiet Voice, I would not have gotten lost and had to double back and sit in long lines of traffic. Because I did not follow the holy urging in my gut/center, I not only spilled the piping hot coffee on my newly dry cleaned coat, I have to wait a whole ‘nother month to get in to see the doctor!

Bet I’ll be obedient next time!

Or will I?

See, I have this faulty tendency to rely on my own thinking, my own understanding, often forgetting that Elohim composes all the details. I forget that even the small inner voice that beckons beneath all the “stuff” of my life is Elohim calling out for me to follow Him at every moment. Sometimes the faith I have in myself often erroneously displaces the faith I have in Elohim, and, of course, those are the times I end up getting lost, going the wrong way, doing hasty/careless/dense things, and having to do them all over again. It seems I have to bump my head in order to learn my lessons instead of just being faithful and obedient in the first place.

Geez! When will I learn? Hopefully I got it now. Or, at least I’m getting it.

My mishap is a very simple example of one of the parables Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount – building on rock instead of sand (Matthew 7:24-27). Trusting my own thoughts and understanding is like building a house on sand that floods and gets sucked under when the storms come. I’m flawed, susceptible to selfishness, and have no knowledge of the whole picture – I’m human. But obeying God and relying solely on His commandments is the rock upon which my house/prosperity/arriving on time at the doctor’s office is built.

God told me which way to go so that I’d not lose my way and be saved. He didn’t just tell me that for the big stuff but for all things. It stands to reason, if I can listen to, trust, and obey Him Who is perfect in knowledge/speaks from heaven/gives me counsel/is above and over all – even and especially in the small things – certainly my faith and obedience are with Him in all things.

Life isn’t about waiting for the storms to pass...

Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain.
-- Author Unknown

This wilderness I find myself in these days is a strange place. Mysterious. On some days, I can see my way through it and find meaning in it; those days are lovely. On other days, there're blinding dust storms and huge tidal waves, suffocating from me any progress I'd made in this journey. On those days, I feel anything but lovely. It's on those days I feel woe/puzzlement and throw my biggest pity parties.

Nobody ever attends those parties, thankfully; they're just not that much fun. Besides, I don't want to be known for having bad shindigs. As a matter of fact, I don't want to live another day sad/sullen/sorry; I want to live like I've got something waiting for me. Because. I. do!

When I get quiet, still, and listen, I am reminded by Elohim that allowing the difficult/painful/disappointing times is His way of pruning and polishing me for something greater. Hebrews 12:7 (NIRV) says "Put up with hard times. God uses them to train you. He is treating you as children. What children are not trained by their parents?" Then, verses 11-12 continue: "No training seems pleasant at the time. In fact, it seems painful. But later on it produces a harvest of godliness and peace. It does that for those who have been trained by it. So lift your sagging arms. Strengthen your weak knees."

Keeping my mind and heart focused on God, discerning what God wants me to learn while I walk through this wilderness, and getting/being/remaining obedient to His Word/will, I am able to accept this time in my life, this valley, this storm with grace, submission, and awe. I can receive the "no" as protection and the "not now" for requisite strengthening/preparation/respect for God's timing. I can begin to uncover/understand/believe who Elohim says I am and disavow everything that caused me to think otherwise. I can appreciate the Word, take it at face value, fight for it, and really heed/trust it to point the way. This wilderness simply feels like a place of respite when I keep my eyes on what/how God is moving through me/my life/the atmosphere. God is working on my harvest!

So I'll sing in the storms of this journey. Maybe I'll dance a bit in this wilderness – maybe learn how to do a really wild Dougie! Perhaps I'll discover some new hobbies – wine tasting, cooking, photography, bird watching, belly dancing, playing volleyball with GG. Maybe I'll travel more, write more, spend more time with friends, volunteer more, work on publishing the "Thought…". Maybe I'll do all of that!

But, what I won't do anymore – with Jehovah Ropheka's (the God who heals) help – is have/wallow around at another sorry soiree. That takes too much precious energy.

Instead, I'm going to learn, as Paul said in Philippians 4:11 (AMP), "… how to be content (satisfied to the point where I am not disturbed or disquieted) in whatever state I am."

Amen and Amen…….

Be quiet, still, and listen

A few weeks ago I hashed through these multitudes of bookcases and gave away hordes of books that I'd either read and someone else could now enjoy or had not read and never would. I gave away a few CDs, some albums, and threw away several VHS'. When we decorated for Christmas, I gave away holiday trinkets I didn't need, like, or have space for anymore, and after Christmas, I gave away even more trinkets and whatnots. I've cleaned my email of old addresses; unsubscribed from email feeds I no longer wanted to receive; got rid of a cable box and a TV; bought a portable hard drive to save all the music and pictures on my old computer before the thang actually gives out; and started cleaning out the storage rooms. Next, I'll go through the pots, pans, dishes, and linen closet, and, before the end of next month, I'll go through my clothes closet and start my Project 333.

I went to a health food store and signed on for an ionic food bath that will help to remove the years of toxins from my body. I unraveled my 142 13 year-old locs, and, I'm thinking of finding a yoga class or joining the newly renovated neighborhood YMCA so that I can continue my impressive weight loss feats!

I've reconnected with some friends and shunned from my life those who have been hurtful, detrimental, and counter to/disagreeable with my purpose. I've decided to do new things with/for my body, things more sacred and inside the will and purpose of God (I Corinthians 6:18-20), and I've begun the thorny/frightening/intimidating/awesome task of looking my Self in the face/at the core, discharging secrets and denial, and replacing them with truth, honesty, transparency, and integrity.

I am on a mighty purge, getting clear and clean. And all this activity makes for a busy me – and a longed for echo in my house. But there's one problem. Actually a big problem. I can't hear God.

While I'm going through closets and shelves, I find myself talking to God quite a bit, asking all these questions, placing stuff before Him, all that. And while that's definitely not a bad thing – God always wants to hear from us about whatever – I'm repeating myself and talking/whining louder/more than I should be. While I'm cleaning up and clearing out, my mind is racing and I'm walking around caught in my head. I'm asking God questions but I'm relying on my own flaky understanding and allowing all that worries/concerns/baffles me to churn out of control. As I place the extra shower curtains in the Goodwill bag and marvel at the empty space left behind, my beseeching God becomes even more relentless, noisy, and insistent.

Enter yesterday's "God Wants You to Know," the Facebook application that delivers a daily message of encouragement and support –

"On this day, God wants you to know ... that you've been talking to God too much, and not listening enough. Prayer is when you talk to God. Meditation is when you become quiet and listen to God. You've learned how to talk and ask well. Time to learn how to listen and hear, because God has been answering you."

Uh, ok. I don't believe in coincidences. I believe that God aligns everything perfectly and. that. message. was. perfect. I've asked the questions, shared my load with Elohim, now, it's time to shut it up and listen to what God has to say about it.I'm listening.

Oh, wait, I've got to put the broom down for awhile and be still. Just like you can only see your reflection in still water, there's no way you can hear God in a whole bunch of activity, although God can talk to you in any way at any time. But for me, right now, I gotta get still.

So, the pots and pans can wait. It's definitely too cold to clean out the storage rooms. And, I'm really in no hurry to sort through the clothes closets.

I'm getting quiet, being still, and listening.Sadiqqa © 2011