There will come a day -- it is not far off now -- when you wake in the morning and know you were meant to be happy and that you want it more than you want things... all the things that fasten you... It is you who hold the power to change. And whatever it is that holds you, whatever it is you think you can’t live without, the time has come to open your hands and let it go... If you fear it will never be possible, think of Harriet who traveled alone the first time, who finally freed 300 hundred people, but first had to free herself.
-- Becky Birtha, “Poem for Flight”

The place smelled of staleness and mold. Everywhere the eye could see was covered in trash, clutter, and useless items, and although mid-morning, not a speck of light shone through the grim and sour room.

He hadn’t been out in days. It seemed he’d been unconscious, comatose. He couldn’t recall the day or when he’d eaten last, though he wasn’t hungry. Perhaps it was the smell in his place that didn’t stir his appetite. Today was the first time he’d smelled the stench of his two-room domicile.

He knew, though, he was jobless, having stormed out of his job because the boss, or “the man,” refused to pay him for a day’s work although he showed up at the job site late. He knew he had no one to turn to because he was estranged from his family and really didn’t know where they were. He knew he was angry.

His life hadn’t been a cup of tea. He grew up in severe poverty, suffered abuse, incest, and rape, was the butt of a community’s color complex, and cried daily over a mother whose persistent drunkenness led her to the grave, a death so early she had no time to show her one and only son how to love or be loved. He lived with shame, guilt, and anger for even having made it this far, which, in his mind, wasn’t very far at all. Oh how he hurt, and the more he hurt, the angrier he got.

But he could no longer hide behind his anger. It’d gotten him no where, no where but a stint in the state penitentiary, a bullet that still lingered near his spleen, and more kids than he had fingers and toes to count. Hiding behind his anger was costing him his life.

As he lifted himself from his worn, squeaky, twin-sized bed, wiping the crust from his eyes and massaging the sore, sluggish muscles throughout his body, he noticed a torn piece of paper on the floor underneath his work boots. Why he noticed this piece of paper was a mystery to him for there were many pieces of paper spread throughout his disheveled and odor-filled room. But it seemed that the small piece of paper was somehow illuminated and called out to him for retrieval. Slowly rising from his bed, he bent to pick up the paper. On it was one word, “peace,” and he remembered it had been given to him by the man that lives on the corner just below the stairwell behind the garbage cans. The man had placed the paper in his hand as he’d passed him three days earlier.

He turned that paper over and over again in his hand and thought about what it meant. Being a smarter than average man, he could think of many synonyms for the word “peace.” “Calm,” “freedom from strife,” “truce,” “serenity,” “harmony,” “untroubled,” “silence,” even “soft,” “humble,” and “dead.” “Humph,” he said as he thought dead is what he felt as he reflected on his life then crumpled up the little piece of paper and threw it back on the floor.

But he thought about the man who’d given him the piece of paper, a small and deprived man who had even less than he did. He’d often seen the guy rummaging through trash and begging passersby for change; he’d even thrown him a couple of dollars one time or another. The man walked with a limp and a stick. He talked to himself and carried on wild and vivid conversations with some unknown person only he could see. The man wore a brown tattered coat even in the heat of summer and his shoes, if you could call them that, had paper-thin soles and appeared to both be for the left foot. The man’s hollow face was ashen, pocked, and disfigured from the scars of a war fought and not won. He lived in a box, smelled of urine, and was considered an eyesore, a nuisance, and a nobody to each person who passed. What in the hell could this man possibly know about peace?

But, then, who was he to judge given his current state of mind and affairs?

He walked over to the sink, turned on the leaky faucet, and washed his face in the rusty water. He looked at his reflection in the hazy mirror, glowered at the deep lines on his forehead and around his mouth, and it dawned on him that perhaps peace is found when you give up the notions of entitlement and demanding that life treat you fairly simply because you live and breathe. Perhaps when you accept that though every person is flawed and operates under a mix of filters, perspectives, and other forms of preservation, he or she is ultimately trying to reach the same place of freedom and happiness that you are, and mistakes and misunderstandings are bound to happen, supposed to happen. Just maybe, he thought, if he gave up feeling that he should be exempt from the pains he suffered, he could move past their ghosts and the consequent anger and then happiness, or at least something similar, would surface. It was at that moment that he wanted nothing more than to know the feelings of peace and happiness. But how and where was he supposed to start?

He thinks of calling his former job and asking whether they’d forget his rage of a week ago and let him come back. Or maybe he’d just look for a new job. Perhaps he’d clean up his place, empty the weeks-old trash, and let a little light in. Maybe he’d call his father and kids just to say “hello.” While these seemed like good ideas, he thought they were a bit ambitious and would take more strength than he had right now. But he had an even better idea: he’d visit the man on the corner. Maybe he could tell him where to start.

When he got to the corner, he found a cardboard box, a few empty liquor bottles and cans, but no man. He looked around, thinking he couldn’t be that far away but instead saw a deserted street with only a few cars and plenty of boarded up buildings. He walked along the street until he came to a stoop where he sat and began thinking long and hard about himself. In order to find peace and happiness, he thought, he needed to first forgive himself for being angry, for being angry about being angry. He needed to forgive himself for allowing the anger to kill his spirit and squash his life. He needed to face the pain and fear beneath the anger, bit by bit, unraveling it to find the parts of himself that he lost at each stab. He needed to find some love for himself so that he could reconcile and reconnect with himself and the world around him before he found himself engulfed in eternal darkness.

As he continued his thoughts, wiping away years of tears, he noticed a shadow over him. Looking up he found the little man standing before him. He searched the man’s face, waiting for him to speak, waiting for something profound from this man who lives so simply it’s considered a societal ill, waiting for him to explain his lot and the circumstances that led him to the corner, waiting for him to give him the answer he so desperately needs. But the man simply says to him, “peace” and walks on.

Watching the man limp away, he repeats the mantra to himself. “Peace.” “Peace.” He continued to speak the word softly as he stood and walked back to his address.

Today will be his new beginning. Today he will start the tedious chore of sorting out the pain, fears, and frustrations so that he can have peace and ultimately happiness. Today, though it’s like any other day with its regular sunup and sundown, he has made the choice to be happy.

Sadiqqa © 2007

God said, “Come to the edge.” They said, “No, we’re afraid we’ll fall.” “Come to the edge,” God said. “No, we’re afraid we’ll fall.” “Come to the edge,” God said again. They came. God pushed them. They flew.
-- Guillaume Appollinare

Ah, they flew. But what if you didn’t fly?

The mountain was a tall one. At the very top, there you stand, perched high above any other thing, looking for a way to get off this mountain.

You’ve been to this mountain’s cliff before. Remember it? This is the same cliff where the edge is named “almost did it.” This is the cliff, if you’ll remember, where you stopped short of taking that final step out of fear that you’d fail – or is this the one where you were afraid you’d succeed? This is the edge where you became frustrated and thus lost your focus which left you incapable of ever deciding what to do about the edge. This is the edge in which your distractions made a groove deep enough for you get caught in, and now you’re having trouble reaching the top of that gulch so you can keep moving toward and beyond the edge of the cliff.

You’re being beckoned to the edge, and really, you have no choice but to go. You can’t stay on this mountain; its resources are low and it’s draining you of your own. You must get off that mountain by going to its edge and taking a step.

At the edge, you feel yearnings, urgings, and promptings strong enough to make you move. So, with hope in your heart and a silent prayer on your lips, you step out off the edge.

And you fall! Quickly and unpleasantly!

But during the fall, you’re able to grab hold of a branch jutting from the side of the mountain, one strong enough to hold you up, allowing you to get a good view of where you fell from and the distance you traveled to get to this branch. You rest there for a while gathering strength and formulating a plan to safely get off this mountain from where you are. Though a devastating fall, you realize you made it over the edge and want to continue this trek with as much of your slightly bruised confidence still intact. When the branch begins to give way, you realize you’ve reflected and licked your wounds too long and crafting a plan must come quickly.

You look to your right and notice there’s another smaller cliff of opportunity if you could just make it there. Using the weary branch to steady you, you’re able to scale the side of the mountain, placing your feet solidly on rocks that protrude from the mountain. You easily make it to the cliff, scout your situation, take time to regroup, and think on a plan to keep moving off from the mountain.

But before you can set your plan in stone, it rains and your safe cliff starts to erode, giving you only days and hours to move before your small cliff is gone.

As the cliff wears away, you notice just below there is a cave and as it gets dark and continues to rain, you climb down jutting rocks to the cavern and are thankful for a shelter in which to get rest so can rejuvenate for the trek ahead.

When you wake again, you realize you’re not alone and the company you’re keeping is not only angry that you’re in its space, but it’s furious that you seem to have the wherewithal to move along when you want to. Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you quickly leave the cave and spot a huge boulder sitting on what appears to be a path that has a bit of a decline. Wondering why the rock hasn’t already moved down the hill of the mountain, you push it and it slides a little. Thinking this is your moment of opportunity, you hop on top of the rock and it starts a slow skid down the hill.

As you slide comfortably along the side of the mountain, the rock begins to pick up speed, and before you can stop it, the rock comes haltingly to the end of the trail, throwing you into the side of the mountain, sandwiching you, and leaving you little room to breathe. Now you’re caught between a rock and a hard place!

As time goes on, you’re able to push the rock off and regain your composure though you’re a might disjointed now because of the pressure from the rock. You look up again to see from where you’ve come and you notice a rope hanging from the side of the cliff where you started. (Funny, you don’t remember leaving a rope behind.) Trying to figure out how the rope got there, what it’s tied to, and where it leads, you notice the company you kept earlier is creeping up on you and, this time, you see hunger and demise in its eyes. No longer are you simply considering the origin or ending of the rope, you grab hold and travel it downward as far as it’ll take you.

To your surprise, the rope is sturdy and secure. It even seems to be steadily, yet smoothly, lowering itself.

The rope ends at a clearing rich with mountainous trees and flowers and a flowing spring of turquoise colored water. You drink from it, see your ragged reflection, then wonder where this flowing water came from and begins. As you follow the river, you notice a small raft with the initials G.G. on it. Thinking there must be someone else around you wait for their return hoping they’d steer you to your final destination. Days, months, and years later, that someone never comes. But the boat with the G.G. is still there. You decide to get in the boat and follow the river, planning to get where you needed to be then later returning the boat to its original place.

You navigate the small craft and it takes you to another side of the mountain where you find a team of fishermen loading their fish. You make friends with them, break bread with them, and tell them your needs. They offer to take you a few miles toward your destination and tell you the rest is up to you for they aren’t going your way and here’s where you must find your own way.

You’ve come so far, but you’re still not completely off the mountain. In the quiet of the moment, you pray and listen for guidance in the wind. You suddenly notice the same rope that saved you before blowing softly in the wind. You grab hold of it, believing wholeheartedly in its strength and ability to carry you away from confusion, danger, despair, and anything else you start to feel as you make your way down this mountain.

This time the rope carries you far way from the mountain and you see just how big the thing is. You become both incredulous and terrified about where you’ve been and even what lies ahead, and as you do, the rope becomes hot, burning your hands, causing you to let go, causing you to fall.

While watching the hard ground get closer and closer, you think this can’t be your destiny. You can’t have travailed a mountain to now just hit the ground and die. You pray, you think of what saved you before now, you think of the things you learned along the way, you think of how you relied on many things but the one true thing driving it all was God’s grace – or G.G. for short. Just as you close your eyes to accept your impending doom, an oak tree in full bloom comes out of nowhere and breaks your fall.

You climb down the tree, touch ground, dust yourself off, and look up again to see from where you came. As you look up, you see a cloud in the shape of a dove. Or is that a hand? Whichever it is, you fall prostrate in praise and muse on the fact that had you flown, you would have gotten here quicker. But, you think, you wouldn’t have conquered that mountain.

Sadiqqa © 2007

We possess the creative energy to “re-form” our lives, to reshape the world. Although we have the power to fulfill our divine plan, few of us do. Most people settle for small lives. We sense our divinity and the great possibilities that life offers us, but we limit ourselves because of fear and lack of faith.
-- Susan Taylor

Each day we spend your time working, completing projects, and making sure our inbox is halfway clean before we turn out the lights to go home, eat dinner, relax, then go to bed. Everyday we do the same work, talk to the same people, eat the same foods, and take the same route to and from our destinations (which are mostly work then home and an occasional trip to the grocer’s and bank, and maybe church).

Our routine is, well, routine and predictable, and we like it that way because it offers a sense of order and stability, maybe even a sense of security and comfort that we’ve got our life on lock which ultimately means we don’t miss a beat. We do the same things so regularly that we could probably do them with our eyes closed. In fact, that’s how we got to work this morning – with our eyes closed.

But with our eyes closed, what did we miss? While we were driving our usual route, what did we miss seeing somewhere else? By talking to the same people we talk with each day, aren’t we getting the same conversations and thought patterns we got yesterday and the day before that?

Bigger still, doesn’t following the same plan each day bring about monotony and dullness? And even though there’s comfort in repetition, don’t you ever wonder whether you’re missing out on something exciting and even more satisfying?

Most of the time – no, all of the time – we do the things that are comfortable and easy to perform and navigate. And, duh, that just makes sense, why would we do something hard when easy works? But what if we are really being called to go beyond that which is easy and fits so snugly? What if we are being challenged to grow beyond our everyday situations and circumstances and embark upon experiences that are unfamiliar and not as predictable or comfortable? What if it’s time for us to do things much differently than we’ve ever been accustomed to doing? Be willing to bet the farm that nine times out of ten, each of us would run from the call and challenge to change by viewing it as an assault on our person, punching holes in the opportunities, justifying the need to preserve where we are, and ignoring the challenge completely, blaming the enemy for trying to keep us down and out.

We can come up with many reasons for not wanting to move beyond your comfort zone – some valid, some cheesy. You think the move you’re being called to make cost too much money, more than you think you’ve got, and it’ll put too much strain on your already tight budget. The job you’re being asked to do is too much to learn, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks; it’ll be too hard to compete with the young people there now; you may not even be compatible with the people or the job. The thinking you’re being asked to adopt is unfounded, impractical, and impossible. Oh, and there’s much fear – fear of what other’s will say, what they’ll think; fear that this new thing will be too hard, too stressful, more work, and provide less leisure time; fear that this new course will be a set up for inward and outward confusion; fear that you’ll fail miserably and end up with less than you have now. Besides all that, you’re tired, you’ve paid your dues, and it’s your turn to live an easy life. You’re just fine right where you are, thank you.

But if you continue to buy into your reasons, valid or not, are you forfeiting something divine? Are you living on purpose? Are you taking the easy way out? Are you saying no to God’s urging for you to be more fruitful and dynamic, and are you saying yes to the custody of indolence, humdrum, and set ways? Doesn’t all of that mark you with the enemy’s name engraved in stone?

What about faith, the faith that God will never leave you alone to maneuver new, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable territory without all the tools you need to be successful, tools you’ve already got but kept in your personal shed because you didn’t need them where you were, and, though a little rusty and in need of sharpening, they’re still useable and waiting for your return? What about faith that opening up to the experience of being out of your zone may be hard and stressful, but a fertile action that will lead you to greener pastures, or at least closer to grazing land that is sown in greater seed? What about faith that you are on purpose because you’re acting as God instructs?

What about faith and trust in yourself that even if a new route or direction is coated with conflict and tension, you have innate abilities, skills, and coping mechanisms that make it possible for you to make the best and most of the situation? What about feeling good about yourself because you conquered the fear that came along with accomplishing a task you would not have considered had you stayed locked in your routine? What about faith in the processes of life, that everything changes, and all change presents opportunities for conscious growth and development that will lead to a finer understanding of the ways in which you are divine, on a limitless course, and meant to traverse this earth with no holds barred? What about faith that makes you just go for it?

Yeah, that’s a lot to swallow when you’re used to custom, following traditions, and doing conventional things. But whatever.

Don’t run from that which causes you to move, do a little more work, or experience something new. Ask yourself whether you were birthed into this world and wrapped in holy abundance to just sit on your current experience, degrees, money, traditions, and laurels and simply live an easy life? Surely your answer will be an undisputable no for where’s the growth or the blessing in that?

Get ready to do the hard work necessary to make your dreams come true. Get ready to give up easy to reach your greatest potential. Be ready to be disturbed and uncomfortable to fulfill your purpose.

Sadiqqa © 2007

It is more blessed to give than to receive, so give to yourself as much as you can as often as you can.
-- LaVerne Porter Wheatley Perry

Make today all about giving to yourself. Here’s the recipe –

Climb out of bed and kneel for prayer. Ask God to bless those around you and to touch you in the places you need healing. Then sing your favorite song or the song that’s speaking to your heart today (over this scribe, it’s Karen Clark Sheard’s “Favor,” Carlton Pearson’s “I Know the Lord Will Make a Way,” and Smokie Norful’s “Um Good”). Sing loudly, on key or off – doesn’t matter, it’s all about what you’re feeling. When it’s time to get dressed, don’t just put on anything because it’s clean and you don’t have to iron it; wear that ensemble that makes you feel good because you know it accentuates everything that makes you look good, even if you do have to iron it. Then feed yourself a nourishing breakfast and try not to rush through it so that the food will digest properly and you won’t be hungry so soon.

When you get to the office – if you even decide to go in today – protect yourself from the regular office junk like gossip, idle banter, and anything else that can be injurious to your psyche. Keep the morning’s song in your head or on your CD player. Light a candle; read a Bible verse and keep the Bible open so that you can refer to it as you need to – and know that you will need to because the enemy will be having trouble with your sense of peace and will try to attack it in every corner. Eat a healthy lunch and snack on something good for you to hold you over until it’s time to go home. Oh, and bounce around and walk your mother sway or father’s swagger.

Check your pulse, blood pressure, cholesterol, and your mind’s eye. Take in some physical activity, get a good jog going then make sure you get some brain calisthenics in – a few brain teasers like the Stroop Test (say the color the words are printed in without any mistakes in 15 seconds – red, green, blue, yellow, pink, blue, green, orange, red, blue) or speak the alphabet, starting with the letter B and skipping every other letter, in less than 10 seconds. Be sure to laugh at yourself – without calling yourself a name – then push yourself further when you make a mistake.

When you get home, after you’ve loved yourself with a healthy dinner of vegetables and the proper proteins and relaxed a bit with your family and/or friends, pile up in a bath of sea salts and chamomile or a little ylang-ylang and bergamot – not too much though, you don’t want to drown out your own sweet scents. When you’re done, dried off, and moisturized up, and ready for bed, kneel again and thank God for getting you through this day in His favor and ask Him to bless you and the world while you rest and prepare for another day.

Then, take in some more physical and emotional activity! It’ll make you sleep well and dream good dreams.

Today, and tomorrow, bless yourself with as much of what you need as you can. And then do it again, and again, and again...

Sadiqqa © 2007

... your growth is inevitable. Wherever you may be..., the growth is going to take place in some form or fashion. Each day that we arise from our sleep due to God’s blessing, we face the challenge of discovering how we are evolving and transforming to the being that God wants us to be.
‑‑ James R. Threalkill

Yesterday you were moved by fashion trends and celebrity news. Yesterday it was very important that your hair be fried, dyed, and laid to the side. Yesterday a burger, fries, and soft drink were sufficient meals. Yesterday there was no way you would have left the house in elastic waistbands. Yesterday your grandmother’s work shoes were hideous and old looking.

Yesterday you believed you needed only a few hours of sleep to be completely refreshed and ready for the next day, and that sleep-aids would rarely, if ever, be a needed part of your daily routine. Yesterday you believed that although your body may become less hale and hearty the longer you live, the need for more than a multivitamin would come far later in your life. Yesterday you made jokes about the people who had to wear bifocals, hearing aids, back braces, shoe implants, and support bras, girdles, socks, and panty hose.

Today, not only do you faithfully eat your daily allowance of fruits and vegetables, sleep a minimum of 8 hours, take a cocktail of prescribed medications, own a few pair of ugly but comfortable shoes, wear very stylish no-line bifocals, and sport only Gold Toe support socks, you rather take pride in how they’ve enhanced your life, and you could care less if the kids make comments and jokes about your add-ons and necessities.

You also take note that you’re now comfortable in your body and there’s no need to manically pine away for one that’s impossible to create. You realize you’re at ease with the way your smooth curves and sturdy build make you appear broad and healthy and even give you a stately presence, and you’re happy that your goal for exercising is no longer to lose weight, but to maintain a healthy heart rate and keep your bones and blood vessels robust and functioning properly.

You also marvel at how you once only did things that your mother, father, and family would approve of instead of considering your own needs and desires first. While you consider their opinions, your notions and beliefs are now what guide your final decisions. You also think about how you’ve recovered from the days when “yes” was the only answer from your mouth even though “no” was the answer on your mind. And you’ve found that the greatest thing in the world is your ability to not need to justify the way you live nor worry about the how others feel about you because of how you choose to live.

Today, it no longer appeals to you to be surrounded by people, things, or beliefs that bring little value to your life. You’ve easily, thoughtfully, and tactfully removed people from your circle who brought no light; given away the stuff you’ve held on to since you first acquired it some years ago, stuff that’s just taking up space; and revised or released the outdated beliefs you grew up with, built the first part of your life on, and that no longer serve you as you evolve further into the person God created you to be. You realize that life is too precious and brief to be crowded with all the things and people that keep you from experiencing joy, peace, newness, freshness, love, fulfillment, pleasure, happiness, and reaching your greatest potential. And again, you don’t justify and make excuses for your choices or worry about who cares or why.

Today you look, feel, and act differently than you did yesterday. When the transformations began occurring you resisted, felt nostalgia at giving up what used to be, and believed it mutiny to change who you were. But now, you are proud of who you are, excited by the changes, and can’t think of being anybody else but who you are now, enjoying the new places, people, feelings, and things you’ve welcomed into your life.

Bless yourself for who you are today.

And bless yourself for who you will evolve into tomorrow for growth, development, progression, and advancement thankfully never end.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Freedom was something internal. The outside signs were just signs and symbols of the man inside. All you could do was to give the opportunity for freedom and the man himself must make his own emancipation.
-- Zora Neale Hurston

In America, we cried for freedom from the shackles of slavery; we cried for freedom from unfair sharecropping agreements; we cried for freedom from never having to again cut a hung relative or friend from a Magnolia, oak, or elm tree; we cried for freedom from economic hardship as we left the South for the greater promises of the industrial North and flourishing Black towns in the West; we cried for freedom from racial segregation and discrimination; and we cried for freedom to create and own businesses, educate our children well, own our own homes, and, most importantly, define our own identities.

We got it all.

(By the way, did we ever get the therapy we needed for our collective post-trauma and the often unconscious deep-seated bitterness and hardship that continues to flow through our veins?)

We got it all, we overcame. Now what do we do? In the land of opportunity, in the land of the free, what do we do?

Yeah, we got some fabulous jobs, own some great stuff, and stand before millions of people each day to show them what we got. But are we really doing what we want to do with our freedom? Are you doing what you want to do, maximizing your freedom?

You are free to do and be anything and go just about anywhere you want to. Are you taking full advantage of that? Or, are you like some of us who sit around waiting for something to happen, waiting for our ship to come in instead of going out to sea to find it and pull it in?

Are you like some of us who barrel ourselves into a job just because it pays the bills, instead of stepping out on the abundance of God – which is certainly far greater than the freedoms afforded by the laws and legislation passed on your behalf – to utilize your “on the side” talent to not only pay your bills but bring you joy and afford you enough money to do and see the things on the your list of things you’d like to do and see before you died?

Or, are you like others of us who hold on to loveless relationships because having one is better than being alone with no one but the Self you don’t know and are afraid to know because of the deep-seated bitterness and hardship you’ve yet to overcome?

That’s not freedom at all. That’s still bondage.

The prophetic words of George Clinton come to mind – “Free your mind and your ass will follow. Open up your freak’n mind and you can fly.” Though brotha George was a bit stoned out of his mind when he crafted and recorded these words, the point to be taken is no matter what you do with your physical Self, if in your mind and heart, you are bound by anything – fear, doubt, poverty, grief, miseducation, or somebody else’s foot on your head – you are free in name only, still clad in the chains worn resentfully by your ancestors.

Are you free?

Sadiqqa © 2007

Begin within.
-- Iyanla Vanzant

When I was a kid, my mother would always remind me that until I cleaned my room, I could not come out of my room. I hated cleaning my room because, believe me when I say, it was a mess. Books, pencils, and crayons were strewn everywhere. Barbie dolls reclined on the Barbie Townhouse furniture along every wall of the room; stuffed animals and baby dolls carried on conversations in the corners; imaginary friends played games like Sorry and Operation when no one was home so of course the games stayed out for their convenience; the Easy Bake Oven always had a cake and a little bacon cooking; dress-up clothes and a few other clothes that weren’t supposed to be on the floor covered the floor; a couple of Jackson 5 and Disney albums, along with a few 45’s, sat near the white Mickey Mouse record player waiting for me and my sister to make up the next dance for the show – you know the show; and unbeknownst to mama and daddy, there were wads of gum, suckers, and Now Laters stuck to the carpet. My sister and I made a game of seeing who could hop the highest over any object in the floor without stumping a toe or causing mama and daddy to come in and see what was going on. My Tiffany Taylor doll – prior to losing her head – was the only toy that had a special place, but I couldn’t put her there because other things were in her place.

Needless to say, rarely did I get to play outside my room. It was too much to clean. I had no idea where to start.

As I’ve gotten older, my habits haven’t changed all that much. Books and magazines are strewn everywhere; games and variety of puzzles (Suduko, Crosswords, Bejeweled Deluxe, 2,000-piece, etc.) await my return; clothes are everywhere, at least now they’re in baskets; and it does seem there are conversations in every corner – thanks to the imaginary friends who live in my house, the ones my 6 year-old invites in. And, yes, as I scribe, there is bacon baking.

But also in my room, in my house, are emotional issues that need to be cleaned up, i.e., examined and resolved. Concerns that jeopardize my sense of peace and restfulness, the things that keep me up at night, or that sit like pink elephants in the middle of the room need to be picked up, gone through then put away in their proper. The trouble is – just like back in the day – it’s too much to clean and I have no idea where to start. And until I do, I can’t come out of my room to usefully care for anybody else or their stuff. Right?

Hmmm, wouldn’t it be calling the kettle black if I called you on your stuff, and mine is raunchy and raggedy? Or, is it because I live in a raggedy state, I can better explain raggedy stuff? But, if my stuff is consistently raggedy, and I’m trying to help you, am I credible at all?

What if I just make my room, my issues, passable and relatively presentable, doing a little work here and there to get it, them, clean? Is that better than nothing?

Will my room ever be clean?

We’ve all got stuff we need to clean up about ourselves. There’s no way we can be the wonderful and powerful Selves we are without going through the fire to be polished and smooth. We had to care for today’s crisis and obstacles in order to be able to appreciate ourselves enough to even walk out the door. In fact, we did clean our rooms, enough to make others take us seriously. Just don’t look too closely, right?

In order to love, function, and get along with others in the world, it is imperative we do the internal work we need to do on ourselves. We don’t live in a vacuum; the world needs each and every one of us and our talents to spin. Clean your room; do what you gotta do to get your Self right, as right as you can. Don’t worry that you’re not super clean – who is? Your room may never be as clean as you’d like it; there may always be stuff on the floor of your mind that keeps you anxious. But if it’s at least manageable and you don’t have to undergo changes if you put it off for a while, go ahead and step out into the world. You can still be a blessing, call the kettle black, represent, and make a difference with chewing gum still stuck on the carpet.

Sadiqqa © 2007

What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass-fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy-a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States at this very hour.
-- Frederick Douglass, Independence Day Speech at Rochester, 1852

Though delivered 166 years ago, the sentiments of Frederick Douglass’ speech still ring true. Ours is still a nation of chest-beating autocrats who beget chaos and confusion throughout the world in the name of democracy and social equality. We live in a nation that carries the national banner of liberty for all, but in actuality, true freedom for all is a fleeting thing for many of us.

In 1776, when the Declaration of Independence was adopted and the 13 colonies declared their political independence from Great Britain, standing on the statements that “all men are created equal” and have, as given by God, the “Inalienable rights” of “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness,” that pronouncement did not include, as you know, slaves who, without a doubt, also carried inalienable rights or human rights that were fundamental and God-given. Though some of the signers of the Declaration made arguments against slavery, those assertions were not included in the final draft and thus slavery, a barefaced act against God-given human rights, persisted.

So, when Fred Douglass was asked to give a speech at an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence, he gave them pure hell, asking if they meant to mock him, a Black man, by asking him to deliver such speech. Imagine the astonished faces of the Rochester, New York audience as they were castigated for their hypocritical behavior! Bet they didn’t invite him to speak again.

However, as you consider this today – the fact that at one time, Africans Americans and others weren’t included in the colonial declarations of freedom – consider also that now you do have some freedoms and in no way can you take them lightly. Consider that you are free to choose who you will be and how you will present that person you are. Ask yourself whether you’re honoring the freedom to choose your Self.

Consider also that you are free to eat hot dogs and apple pie without the threat of a lashing or water hoses to your back. You can now barbeque pig and chicken instead of eating their remains from the big house. You can celebrate independence from the backward thinking of separate but equal and shoot fireworks because you are proud of the inroads you’ve made even in the course of living in the pretentious democracy of America.

As you remain mindful of where you’re expending your freedom – arrogant America – remind yourself that you now have the choice to go anywhere you want to. You can travel away from home, across the railroad tracks, order a plate or two from the Walgreens lunch counters, visit the Queen of Great Britain, reconnect with lost family in West Africa, then return to America and kick your feet up in a hammock and enjoy the accoutrements of Independence Day.

So the first few Independence Days weren’t built with you in mind. Now, since you can exercise your mind’s ideas, celebrate your freedoms, all of them, in any way you want to. Even if you do nothing on this 4th of July, you have the freedom to do that. We’ve come a long way, fought many fights, shed many tears, and endured much pain. No matter how this day is construed, you have a right to celebrate your personal independence even as you live among tyrants. Today, celebrate!

Sadiqqa © 2007

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
-- Howard Thurman

Does a new day, rich with blessings, opportunity, and possibility, cause you to rise readily from bed and grasp it with gusto, sinking your teeth into its promise and clutching hold of its sparkle, preparing even to reshape with enthusiasm the parts of the day that don’t twinkle and shine? Sometimes?

What if it were coupled with the greatest cup of your favorite morning beverage, hugs and kisses from those who love you, and the birds singing your tune atop your canopied oak tree that shades the veranda off your bedroom balcony? Sometimes?

Would that, together with a comfortable dollar amount in the bank, all your bills paid, the house in immaculate shape and order, your health and that of your family of pristine quality, the refrigerator, you closet, and your friendships well stocked, and the only thing that brings a furrow to your brow trying to decide what of all the things in the cabinet should you make for dinner, cause you to come alive? Maybe? Sometimes?

Well, what if your work was interesting and pleasing, too? What if at the end of each day you could also say you made a difference to and for somebody; a lot of people? And what if you knew that all the effort you put into loving, helping, and encouraging somebody changed their life and caused them to come alive and touch somebody and bring about new life? Yeah? Maybe?

Okay, one more – and if this doesn’t spark a few cells then you should seek professional assistance for your depression. What if, on top of all that, you knew who you were and projected without fear or gaucherie that real you? What if you also knew your purpose on earth and trusted your Self enough to fulfill it? And then what if you could see God’s hand everywhere you looked and feel it in everything you did, from jumping out of bed, sipping your coffee, preparing your dinner, to completing your life work in the best You you have to offer? Would you then be alive?!

Surely so! Even writing this scribe has caused me to want to scale the side of a mountain.

Okay, maybe a tall hill... Maybe I’ll just have another cup of coffee.

Whatever it is that brings you life, that causes you to come alive, enjoy it immensely! You earned it by mere virtue that you’re still living! You owe it to yourself! So don’t just dream about it; don’t just talk about it. The Sugarhill Gang said it best, “Come alive y’all and gimme whatchu got!!” What the world needs now is your life energy now more than ever. The world needs it in order to keep spinning. So, come alive and give us what you got!

Sadiqqa © 2007

So whatever you desire to do in this house today, Lord, have your way.
-- Joe Pace

Dear God, at the beginning of the year, I asked you to grant me a life journey that would be purposeful and prosperous. I asked you for peace and prayed as Jabez did asking you to bless me, increase my province, and keep evil away from me so that I would not hurt or hurt anybody else. In return, I promised to keep your commandments, revere the Word by studying and sharing it with others, and worship you in prayer, song, fellowship, service, and through tithes and offerings.

God, it’s now a little past mid-year, and while I have a list of amazing accomplishments, peppered with occasional disappointments, you know I’ve only grated the surface of meeting you where I told you I’d go. And though you’ve done exactly what you said you’d do, I know I’ve got to go beyond and deeper to grasp the blessings that would make my life richer, substantial, and more worthwhile.

Even more honestly, Lord, I know now, more than ever, that “putting a hand to the plow and looking back” (Luke 9:62) has lost me some ground. I know that operating in a way that feels good or familiar has left me feeling hollow and keeps me going back to the place that has me running in circles chasing and biting my tail. I know that after I gave my word to follow your Word, I turned back to errant behavior that sidetracked my path and diverted my attention. Jesus, I didn’t mean for this to happen; I’ve lost my focus. The good grasp I set on my goals and the blessings I asked you for seem so out of reach now.

Lord, I’m asking now, and once again, that you have your way in me. Move me out of the way so that you can do the work on me that’s necessary. Help me Jesus to let go so you can move in me in a way I’ve never allowed you to. Lord God, I know now that in order to receive what you have for me, I must still my Self and what I believe to be the answer and allow you to have your way.

Yes, God, I’m stubborn. I’m pig-headed and an occasional know-it-all, though I’d never admit it to anybody but you (even though you already know). But God I know you’re bigger than all my pride and other idiosyncrasies, and the mighty hand I asked that you place upon me can change my peculiarities into something wonderful before you. Lord, move me. Make me who’d you have me be. Send me where you want me be. And, please Jesus, remove the fear and doubt that keep me from going where you say, that keep me flying under the radar, living on the surface, and believing myself hidden from your commands on my life.

You assure me, Jesus, time and again that it ain’t about me, though I leave my door each day believing that it is. But I know, dear God, that it’s about you and your purpose for my life. Lord, help me live that. Help me keep that at the front of my mind and let nothing come out of my head without having been censored and cleaned up by the thought of your Will.

God, you know none of this is easy for me, but I trust you to guide me and show me how to make it all work. I’m grabbing hold of the plow again and I’m not looking back. I’m here to do your work, Lord, to live by your Word, build your kingdom, and I’m moving out of the way so you can have your way – the way that is precious, perfect, and divine. Whatever you desire to do Lord, have your way in me today and all my days.

This I pray in your perfect name. Amen.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Give a damn.
-- Alice Walker

Give a damn.

Give a damn about children who are poorly educated for they miss out on life-long affirming choices granted only to those who’ve had access to innovative instructional programs, bright and inspiring teachers, and a myriad of social and cultural opportunities. Give a damn about people who cannot read, who cannot decode words because their phonological and whole language skills were not developed, and who, thus, have difficulty getting and maintaining gainful employment, adequate healthcare, and respect from society. Give a damn that the least educated have higher rates of poverty, poorer health and social well-being, and lower economic stability. Give a damn that you will have to care for them.

Give a damn that each day a child is abused physically, emotionally, sexually, and/or through neglect and that they are powerless to break from of their abuse. Give a damn that tons of women and men are abused and abandoned, that each day they suffer physical and emotional horrors in their homes, and many don’t have the wherewithal to remove themselves from their conditions. Give a damn that HIV and AIDS is growing at phenomenal rates in many communities the world over; in the US alone, the CDC estimates that each year, approximately 40,000 people become infected with HIV, this number not reflecting the countless others who have no idea they are infected. Give a damn that ministers don’t preach about abuse, sex, or the prevention strategies what we need to hear about, frightened and threatened by such taboo subjects, opting instead to contain their surface and packaged messages to prosperity gospels and bringing in the biggest financial offerings.

Give a damn about dilapidated communities full of clap-board houses in need of repair. Give a damn that mortgage interest rates are rising again, leaving those of us who didn’t get a house during the nation’s economic boom and subsequent interest rate lowering further away from our dream of homeownership. Give a damn that some of us who got a lower interest rate during that time were serviced by predatory lenders and are now in jeopardy of losing our homes.

Give a damn that African Americans don’t spend their hard earned money with Black merchants. Give a damn that Black merchants don’t sell all the items that a family may need.

Give a damn that the rhetoric over illegal immigration sounds very much like that used against African Americans prior to the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Give a damn that bashing anyone who isn’t American-born is a free-for-all. Give a damn that America calling itself a melting pot or salad bowl is the biggest lie ever told.

Give a damn that the ozone layer is real and depleting and that the air quality keeps you from enjoying God’s earth. Give a damn that 7 astronauts are up in space, waiting for one of 5 days to return to earth. Give a damn that many of us have no idea why they were up there in the first place. Give a damn that it was not to plug the ozone layer.

Just give a damn.

Sadiqqa © 2007

You need to get up in the morning and say, “Boy, I’m going to, in my own stupid way, save the world today.”
-- Carol Bellamy

Just down the street from you there is boy who has the most awesome throwing arm and he can hit a ball with as much precision and passion as McGwire and Sosa. He’d really make a great baseball player. The trouble is he can’t seem to get his hands on any good equipment and he has nowhere to play in the neighborhood. Also, his boys only want to play basketball and touch football and tell him his chances of playing baseball are slim to none. Today, so that he can possibly follow that “slim to none” chance, he needs your help in acquiring a good baseball bat and glove. He also needs you to get on the phone with other people in the neighborhood so that a playing field can be created for him and his friends to play in. Today, he needs you. Hope you got up this morning ready to make a difference.

The new lady at your job, the colorful woman that just joined your team, always seems like she’s in another world, and typically people treat her like she’s out of this world. But you simply see a woman who is a little eccentric and has a right to express her idiosyncrasies as she sees fit. Subsequently, she appreciates your acceptance but needs you to go a step further and help others not “get” her, but let her be. She needs you to interrupt the conversations about her unconventional thinking and behavior and redirect them to her capabilities so that the team can get its job done. Today, this woman who makes no excuses for being an oddball, needs you to speak up on her behalf. Hope you got up this morning ready to meet this challenge.

When you got out of bed this morning, your mind may not have been on saving the world. That’s such a monumental task and, of course, you’re not Jesus. But just think, if you help one person, that person can help someone else. If you got that kid some equipment and a place to play, he may become so great that he gets a scholarship to play college baseball. While playing college ball, he so impresses the scouts that he gets a major league deal, and while playing professional baseball, he gives so much time and money back to the kids in your neighborhood, the neighborhood not only has its own team of potential baseball players and coaches, it is the safest and healthiest community to live in. Imagine that! By helping one, you’ve contributed to saving the world.

Think about it like this – driving home during rush hour, you let someone cut in front of you. Thankful, that person then feels generous enough to let somebody cut in front of them, and then that somebody lets somebody else cut in them until finally everybody is on the same road to home. No road rage, no frustration. You have done something to save the world.

It’s the little ways that save the world. If you didn’t get out of bed ready to do your part today, hopefully now you’re ready.

Sadiqqa © 2007

I will not be satisfied anymore with living my life simply for myself. Other issues are much broader than my own little world.
-- Anita Hill

Imagine living in a country ignited for years in civil war, a country like Somalia. You leave home each day praying to make your destination in one piece, studying or working as hard as you can amid the gunfire you hear around you, praying this is not the day one of those shots will end your life but knowing you’re a target just as the other 1,000,000 Somalis who have died because of the decades long conflict were targets. Imagine that you fled the unstable country, making a two-year trek through Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Niger and Libya then reaching and sailing in a small rickety boat with 20 other men, women, and children escapees, floating to any land away from your homeland. Then, imagine making land only to be held in a prison of camp until your asylum status was confirmed. Imagine then starting a new life with nothing but your shell-shocked life in a place whose language is not yours, whose customs are as foreign to you as peace for you is foreign, and the natives pity, shun, and treat you differently for not being like them.

Imagine being a woman living in war-torn Darfur. Imagine needing firewood to keep your family warm but being afraid to send your husband for fear that he will be killed if he leaves the camp. You go instead. Imagine that as you reach for the last block of wood, you are grabbed from behind, a gun pinned to the temple of your head, a grungy voice threatening you not to make a sound. Imagine being abducted, taken away from those you’ve lived to protect, and sexually assaulted because you would not tell the government-funded Janjawid militiaman where your husband was. Imagine that after your assault, because of the stigma, shame, and ostracization your townspeople would place upon you because of it, you live in silence, a silence potentially ridden with disease and unwanted pregnancy. Imagine that though these inhumane acts happen daily and have the attention of international media, you are still raped and tortured as the Sudanese government continues to use you as a pawn in its fight for economic, political, and social domination.

Imagine being one of 24 little boys in a poorly-run Iraqi orphanage. You had food, but that was a month ago. You were able to walk around, but that was months ago. You had parents, but that was a year ago. Now all you have is a dwindling hope that you will live but a frightening idea that you will die. Imagine being discovered by strange men in brown fatigues, being lifted by one, and feeling a tear from his eyes fall on your emaciated body. You smile because his body and that tear are the only human touch you have received since your country was invaded and your parents were taken from you. Imagine someone cleaning and clothing your delicate and wounded body, feeding you what your starving body can hold, and then placing you carefully in a fresh, clean bed. Imagine being grateful for this care, thankful that Allah would deliver you from your previous state of neglect. But, imagine you’re still an orphan.

Sort of makes your issues manageable, huh?

With all that is happening in the world around us, you know there is no way you can live your life just for yourself. You know that the hardships that occur in the world need your attention and will not go away just because you don’t pay them attention.

You also know that just next door, not even on another continent, a family is suffering through domestic violence; your community is plagued by young people’s persistent disrespect and violence; our country is sending men and women to a foreign country to fight a foreign and confusing war; and the ozone layer is depleting. Knowing this, can you simply provide for your own comforts and needs?

We have a responsibility to one another, the responsibility to protect and care for one another. Find out from Amnesty International what you can do to help the women and girls in Darfur. Learn from immigration services where you can go to help refugee families living in your own community. Consider adopting one of the children left with no one in Iraq and other parts of the world, calling the US Department of State to learn about the process. Get involved in alleviating the problems found in your own community. You aren’t and cannot be expected to solve all the ills of the world, but you are expected to do something to bring about peace and resolution. Despite what you can touch each day, you are your brother’s keeper.

Sadiqqa © 2007

... we’ve arrived, but where to?
-- Margaret Hodges‑Rush

We have overcome several times. Little black children and little white children walk hand‑in‑hand, read from the same textbooks, and live side-by-side in suburbia. We all drink from the same water fountains, use the same public restrooms, and if there are still any true lunch counters left, not only do African Americans work them, many of us own them. Integration is the standard of life, a given, rather than the special status. Yes, we have arrived.

But where did we really come to, and what did we actually get when we got where we thought we wanted to be?

Did we come to a place where we’ve wholeheartedly and hands-down accepted that to be successful we have to look, think, and be like the power-hungry, greedy, competitive architects of a consumeristic society? Did we have to give up what was rich and unique about our black selves in order to make a niche that could sustain our living? Have we enthusiastically joined the American think tank that regularly ignores simplicity, integrity and morality, commonsensical public policy, environmental and financial stewardship, and cooperation among all peoples? Carter G. Woodson said, “If you can control a man’s thinking, you don’t have to worry about his actions.” Have we so bought and assimilated into the capitalist way of thinking that our voice has twisted into the common voice of America, and when we try to engage America about its ills against us, it sounds more like mere complaint or glorified and self-serving speech-making from the masses than real protest from disillusioned and traumatized people?

Did we come to the place where it’s blasé to spend millions of dollars on Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Sean Jean, and Apple Bottoms, instead of successfully and intelligently educating black children and creating lucrative employment for black people? According to Target Market, a company that tracks African-American marketing, media and consumer behavior, in 2004, black people spent approximately $22 billion on apparel and only $6 billion on education. Moreover, we spent 53 billion in food. Did any of that come from the seeds we harvested and planted in our own backyards growing vegetables and fruits then selling and trading them with our neighbors? Or, when we got where we thought we wanted to be, did we forget all about cooperative gardening, farming, and learning how to fish for ourselves?

When we got where we thought we wanted to be, was it the place that was okay to create music and lyrics that perpetually denigrates women, disrespects love and relationships, and lionizes violence, self-indulgence, and sexual extravagance?

When we got where we thought we wanted to be, was it the place that made us forget about our personal and moral responsibility to lift ourselves AND each and every member of the African American community? Has our arrival in a motorcade of tinted-windowed, 20” chrome-rimmed, spoiler on the back Mercedes’ made it easy to ride past public housing sites and dilapidated neighborhoods, see our cousins idly sitting on the porches, and turn up our noses, chiding that they will never get anywhere? How did we arrive comfortably at “every man for himself,” when prior to 1960 we were our “brother’s keepers” and lauded interdependence and communalism as the only ways to move forward?

Did we get to a level playing field, a real piece of the pie? Or did we simply forget who we were before we arrived?

Maybe we should take a hard look at where we arrived and redesign the directions for the new/next take off. Maybe we should get off at the next exit.

Sadiqqa © 2007

This week is devoted to the you that needs to be empowered to move forward.
-- Oprah

That’s right folks, this is that week, the week that’s been set aside for you to do all the things you must do to stay on top of your game of life. This is the week that is designed for you to review and renew your very best and make it better. This week right here is the week that you must recommit to your Self so that each and every part of you will feel better and shine brighter. This is that week that’s dedicated to that great effort.

This week, reinvigorate your exercise regime. You’ve done great so far, your goal of reshaping that gluteus maximus is going well. This week, step it up and make it better. Find a long, medium-grade hill and walk up it as fast as you can, then slowly walk back down. Repeat 10 times. Also, add cross-training – swimming, yoga, aerobics, rock-climbing, etc. – to your regime so that you can better strengthen and tone your upper body. And, by the end of the week, increase the intensity of your strength-training routine by changing up the exercises and focusing on more muscle groups. Your biceps and triceps are in great shape; what about those abs?

This week, have another look at what you’re eating. You are eating more fresh fruits and vegetables; are you also eating less sodium (processed foods, salty snacks, and fast food) and white bread? Are you drinking more water, orange juice, and low-fat milk, and limiting your caffeine intake and alcohol consumption? If you’ve stayed on track, good for you. Keep it up. If you need to start over, this is the week for it.

This week, begin to learn that thing you said you’d learn. Take the class that will teach you how to best use the power drill and circular saw you got for Christmas. The beads and wire in your craft drawer are still just beads and wire. Weren’t you planning to make earrings and necklaces? Your goal in January was to learn more about West Africa, the home of your ancestors, from its early civilizations to colonization and post-colonial political, economic, and social conditions. Your plan was to also learn how to prepare the best lobster risotto and distinguish between Pinot Noir and Merlot wines, and rosé and dessert wines. And didn’t you want to learn how to play the acoustic guitar you inherited 4 years ago from your uncle? This is the week to do all that.

This week is the week to do all the things you said you needed to do to keep your head up, some light in your life, and excitement in your britches. Sorry it took so long to get to this week, but finally, here you are. So get started. This is the week for you to start.

Or, was last week the week?

You didn’t put it off until this week, did you?

Are you a week – or so – behind?

But, if you wait until next week, you may be too far behind.

Don’t wait any longer. Go.

Now!

Sadiqqa © 2007

It no longer bothers me that I may be constantly searching for father figures; by this time, I have found several and dearly enjoyed knowing them all.
-- Alice Walker

Lots of us did not grow up with our biological fathers. Some of us never had the opportunity to sit with those fathers and learn from them or see ourselves growing into a person who looks like him and has his mannerisms and inflections. There are those of us who never had the chance to really know him and the things that were important to him so that we could decide how those things made us who we are. For some, maybe the years have passed and we no longer care about that absent father.

But in his absence, there appeared many other men who served in some capacity as a father. Perhaps there was Granddaddy who was a constant, the one who kept you and mama stable with steadfast and proven love, comfort, and support. Maybe you had a biological Uncle who took you under his wing and treated you as his own. Or, maybe you had a big brother who let you tag along and protected you when things seemed too big and too much.

Maybe mom remarried or had a special friend and he treated you as though you were his very own offspring, cooing you as a father should and making provisions for you to be where and who you are today. Maybe mom had many special friends and you were able to eke useful nuggets from each of them in which to frame your outlook of life. Perhaps there were men in your church who offered fatherly advice or men in the community – a baseball coach, scout leader, or camp counselor – who provided you with guidance and helped you to recognize and value the contributions men make to the larger community.

Maybe over the years you’ve made friends with older men who offered the tenderness and dependability found in a father. Maybe the older gentlemen you’ve befriended have given you the gumption and courage you need to go forward, reach further than you believed you could, and offered a pat on the back that said more than words could ever say. Maybe your older man-friend is like an old oak tree whose strength and endurance remind you of God, the greatest Father, and His presence in your life.

And perhaps that’s what God intended for He knows each of us intimately and knows what we – us and our biological dads – need. Maybe he knew dad could not be there and placed other dad figures in our life to be what we needed. Maybe it took all of the men we came in contact with to replace the father your biological father could not be. Maybe we got everything we were supposed to have from those who were around.

Sure it’s hurtful that your biological dad didn’t or couldn’t stay. You still have many questions. But The Father never left you alone and gave you representatives of Him to ensure you were as covered as you needed to be. Thank God for men who care and give us what we need in the absence of those who just couldn’t stay.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Small boys become big men through the influence of big men who care about small boys.
-- Anonymous

I used to believe that because I am every woman, if I ever had a son, I could be for him everything he needed. I knew that I could teach him how to treat both women and men as well as instruct him in perfecting his manly swagger and employing the proper standing posture for urinating. In my years of being a staunch and audacious Feminist who believed men were useful – just not to me – I thought that I would be able to single-handedly make a boy understand what it really meant to be a man.

Thank God for miracles. I have a girl and she restored my faith in men. And I have since sent my bleached and haggard Feminist robe to the tailor’s for a newer fit.

The give and take – mostly give – of being a mother certainly pales any other feat one can undertake. Living a life of a nurturing, protecting, multi-tasking, always-on, disciplinarian is not an easy thing to pull off during your every breathing moment. Making a living so that you and your baby can enjoy living are monumental tasks when you begin to dissect what each of the moments call for. Sacrificing while still smiling and finding joy amid the most mundane events and occurrences are staples of motherhood that are not for the faint of heart.

Yep, everything else pales in the face of motherhood.

Except fatherhood. Motherhood does not pale or replace the role of a good father.

Being a good father means the same as being a good mother – nurturing, protecting, multi-tasking, always-on, disciplinarian. It means making a living, sacrificing, and keeping a contented face in the midst of it all. But as a father, a man brings a special dynamic, a sort of “edge-smoother” to the loose – sometimes frayed – ends that every child has in order that the kid may be and feel covered and whole. A father defines a part of life that is exclusive only to his language and explanation, and in which only a child can understand from him. For a child to hear the same details about life from a mother is like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher – whamp whamp wahamp whamp whamp!

A father’s perspective of life, the ways he sees the world, how he experiences life, and maneuvers among others in the world, are as germane to how a child perceives him or herself as that child’s own breathing is necessary for living. Where a mother’s yin tells of life to be and come, a father’s yang lays the paths for that life to be experienced. Yin alone cannot complete the story; yang must add the nuances and reverberations that help give the story life.

There is absolutely no way a child, boy or girl, can understand what it means to just BE without the hope, help, and guidance of a father.

While my own father – Jesus, bless his sweet heart – has been blessed (chuckle) with 2 girls, I’m convinced had he the opportunity to father boys, he would have done the same great awesome job with them that he’s done with me and my sister. A good father is a good father for all – girls and boys.

So, from a reformed Feminist, here’s to fathers and men everywhere who make the lives of children possible, positive, practical, and prosperous. God bless you!

Sadiqqa © 2007

Rule No.1: Never lose money. Rule No.2: Never forget rule No.1.
-- Warren Buffett

How much money have you already spent today? How much money do you expect you’ll spend before you leave work today?

Let’s see. You stopped to fill up the gas tank. Geez, $48! You scraped together some change, $1.19 and $.75, for a cup of java and the morning paper, respectively. Mid-morning, you expect to visit the vending machine to deposit $1.25 for peanut butter crackers and a Dr. Pepper to tie you over until you go to lunch with your co-workers. There you’ll pop down about $10.00 for a salad, sandwich, cookie, and another Dr. Pepper. Around 3:00, you expect you’ll visit the vending machine again to get a third Dr. Pepper and popcorn, and maybe a candy bar for the chocolate high; all that’ll total $1.95.

Subtracting the gas – that will probably carry you through to Sunday, you’ve spent about $15.00 today. Multiply that by 5 days at work each week. That’s roughly $75.00! Multiply that by 52 weeks less 4 weeks of vacation. That’s $3,600!! Had you made your coffee at home, taken your own snacks and lunch, and subscribed to the paper or read the recycled one in the break room at the office, you might have been able to follow the rule to never lose money. And please, let’s not talk about the weight you would have kept off!

How much more money are you losing? Do you drive to the other side of town to shop at the grocery store that presumably carries fresher fruit and meats, cutting into your gas that’s supposed to last longer than 3 days? Why not challenge the grocery store down the street from you to carry foods just as fresh? Are you sure to pick up your favorite magazine from the newsstand each month, spending almost $50 each year instead of subscribing to the magazine and spending only $1.60 or so per issue? And paying the surcharges and other fees that are included when you pay your utilities online each month equates to a whole other bill! Why not just send the electric and water companies a check?

And every day, you put down $1.00 to play Lucky 7’s for a chance to win $7,000. But not once in the 3 years that you’ve played have you even recovered the $365 you put down each year. But, here’s to the next time, right?

You find yourself treating money as though it grew on trees. Perhaps for some it does, but they own the whole grove. For others of us, money is precious, hard to come by, and a fleeting thing. So why are we losing it so easily? Why aren’t we more thoughtful in the care of our money?

Think of all the places you could conserve your money. Keep a jar – or Crown Royal® bag – for the spare change. Roll it and deposit it into an interest-bearing savings account. At the end of the year you will have amassed a very pretty penny that you’ll be more than eager never to lose again.

Sadiqqa © 2007

You cannot establish security on borrowed money.
-- William J. H. Boetcker

“Sir, I’m sorry, your card has been declined. Perhaps you have another card that will cover the cost of your meal this evening?”

“Ma’am, at this time we’re unable to process your credit card and cannot make your reservation. Please try another hotel.”

“On 00/00/2007, you applied for an XYZ credit card. We are unable to approve your request for the following reasons...”

“Ma’am your card has been declined and the credit card company is recommending that I take the card and hold you here until a representative of the card company gets here to read you your credit card agreement.”

Sound familiar. Hope not. Hopefully each of us is handling our financial business so that we don’t have these kinds of situations to deal with. But for those of us who aren’t, and those of us who could do a little better, please read on.

Most of us have found comfort in using and living on borrowed money. We have a plethora of credit and charge cards, home loans, school loans, personal loans, loans from mom and dad, Uncle Joe, and even from our kids’ piggy banks. But when it’s time to pay them back, when the bills fall due, in walk our problems. We either can’t repay them or don’t want to repay them. Sometimes we borrow more money to pay back the other money; sometimes we file bankruptcy. Sometimes we get lost or leave town altogether. Nonetheless, our debts still exist until they are cleared, and until they are discharged, our financial freedom is not secure.

A National Foundation for Credit Counseling survey of Americans’ budgeting and spending habits recently found that fewer than half of the 1,000 people surveyed had ever ordered their credit reports and nearly a third didn’t know the interest rates on their credit cards. Further, of those surveyed, 40% do not pay the full amount due every month on the credit cards they used most often. The survey found this to be particularly true of younger Americans, African Americans, Latinos, and lower-income Americans.

It is imperative you know what’s in your credit report. A credit report is an account of your payment history and lists your credit accounts, their balances, and your payment activities for each. The report also lists previous addresses and telephone numbers, previous and current employers, and any inquiries creditors and others (including employers) have made into your credit history. Your credit report is usually pretty thick, unless you’ve never had any credit, and though it can be intimidating and cumbersome, order it and review it carefully for mistakes and discrepancies. In these days of identity theft, you can’t take any chances that your credit report is correct; you may find that a boat, motorcycle, and brownstone in the Bronx that were bought in your name and credit, then reposed and foreclosed in your name and credit.

Each year (once every 12 months), you can get free copies of your credit report from the 3 credit reporting agencies, Equifax, TransUnion and Experian, by visiting the website www.AnnualCreditReport.com, by calling (877) 322-8228, or by completing the Annual Credit Report Request Form (available online from http://www.ftc.gov/bcp/conline/include/requestformfinal.pdf) and mailing it to: Annual Credit Report Request Service, P.O. Box 105281, Atlanta, GA 30348-5281.

Today is the day that you find out the interest rates on all your credit obligations. Maybe there’s a way to reduce that interest. Perhaps if you called the card company and asked for a lower rate, you’d get one. Who knows? All you can do is ask.

Today, take serious steps to alleviate the financial burdens your credit cards are placing on you. And, in the words of an exasperated parent, worn from years of bailing a child out of uncontrolled debt,

“If you can’t buy it with cash, you don’t need it. Don’t have any cash? It’s ‘cause you got too much credit.”

Sadiqqa © 2007

Economy is half the battle of life; it is not so hard to earn money as to spend it well.
~ C. H. Spurgeon

According to Forbes.com, on the average, American households make $54,453 a year before taxes and spend $43,395 in expenditures, leaving approximately $11,000 of discretionary money, less the 8 - 10% you give FICA an’ ‘em to supply the social insurance system, the estimated 25% in federal, state, and local taxes withheld to pay your share in sustaining the government, and any allowable deductions (medical expenses, charitable contributions, interest on loans, etc.). At the end of the year, you may have less than $6,000 left to play with, about $500 each month. If you subtract your tithes, savings, and maybe eating out or detailing your car, you may have about $1.67 at the end of the month.

Are you spending well?

A recent National Foundation for Credit Counseling survey of Americans’ budgeting and spending habits found that just 40% of us use monthly budgets, you know the thing that helps you know the amounts of money that currently come in and go out of your wallet; the thing that keeps you from wandering around wondering why you make so much but have so little? If you don’t have a monthly written plan of how and where you’re money goes, you have little to no control over your money and, ultimately, even your $1.67 goes carelessly out the window.

With a budget, you can see exactly how much you spend out each month and you can determine whether you’re spending too much for something, not spending enough for something else, or whether a thing can be cut completely. Having your expenditures before you makes it all real, sometimes too real. But hopefully the realness will cause you to make changes that will net you more than $2.00 at the end of the month.

The realness – do you really need all those cable channels? How many features do you need on a cell phone? Do you have to run the washing machine and dishwasher at the same time? Wouldn’t it save more costly energy to dry your clothes in the evening as opposed to the middle of the day? Does your dog have to eat the Science Diet® dog food? Will another pair of black shoes complement your feet any better than the pair you bought 2 weeks ago? Could you go to the grocery store only 1 time in 2 weeks; must you go every other day? If you bought dinner food at the grocery store, why would you stop at the fast food joint for dinner? That coffee maker you bought last year was supposed to replace your daily Starbuck’s visit every morning, wasn’t it? Why do you give in to your kids’ pouting each time they see the “teaser” toys and candy at the register? The late fees, don’t they cost more than the actual monthly charges? And, why would you pay the bank $35 - $40 to pay your bounced checks? Why not just stop writing bad checks?

Or, you can keep running from your money.

Did you know that not managing your money can cause depression and lead to stress that can compromise your immune system and perpetuate disease?

Manage your money so we can continue this written relationship.

Imagine all the money you could save and spend better if you would just develop a plan. Today, your challenge is to try it.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Would you marry you? Are you doing your best, giving your all, being the best you can be to yourself? If not, why are you pawning yourself off on someone else?
-- Iyanla Vanzant

You look forward to the day you stand before the preacher, look into adoring and hopeful eyes, and say, “I do.” You can imagine the feeling of being enveloped and involved in the life of holy matrimony. Seems you’ve waited your entire life to enjoy that time of life.

Inside the borders of marriage, you are required to consider the needs of your partner – her hunger, his warmth, her hobbies, his ideas. When married, you have good days and you celebrate with one another. You have bad days and you work it out with one another. You function with the in-laws, his friends, and her girlfriends. You talk about money, disciplining children, healthcare, spirituality, and all the other things that committed couples share for the livelihood of themselves and their union. You maintain the household together, deciding together whose talent is more conducive to which chore and duty. You find happy mediums, and sacrifice when necessary for the good of your spouse and the relationship. Inside the borders of marriage, these are the things that partners do, and you can’t wait to be a part of that body.

But first and foremost, have you considered all of that for yourself? Have you celebrated your own good days? Have you regularly applauded yourself for meeting your needs and going above and beyond to make yourself happy? Have you made yourself happy? Do you know what happiness is? Are you happy? If you’re not, how can you be happy with somebody else in your life? Are you waiting for somebody else to make you happy?

When things are not going well for you, do you shut down? Do you ball up under the covers with the door locked and ringer off, sleeping it off? Do you, instead of facing the hard stuff, throw yourself into work, drink it away, smoke it away, hit something or somebody, or call your stand-by for a quick booty hook-up? Is the way you deal with the hard stuff acceptable within a loving and lasting relationship?

What’s your relationship with money? Are you a spendthrift, unable to keep even your last dollar from burning a hole in your pocket? Or are you a miser, spending only what’s necessary to sustain your living, even haggling with the landlord each month about the fixed rent you’ve paid for many years? Are you at the limit on all your credit cards, constantly screening your calls so not to run into a collector? Do you have more money in the bank than presentable clothes on your back, or more clothes on your back than ample money in the bank? Are you able to find a medium between the two, or are you stuck on one side or the other? Most importantly, are you able to talk about your money situation with the someone you expect to spend the rest of your life with?

Do you have health issues that you’ve not checked on, not cleared up? When was your last physical? How’s your cholesterol? What’s your blood type? Is your blood free of disease? Do you have a copy of the results? Have you been to the dentist? Why are you limping? Is that mole on your shoulder getting larger? Are you eating right and well? How many times each week do you exercise to stay in shape and get your heart rate pumping? If you’re not taking care to know and do all this for yourself before you consider marriage, imagine having to do it afterward. Not only will you need to be aware of your own health needs, but you’ll have to keep up with your partner’s as well. Can you be trusted to do that if you’re not caring for your own now?

How’s your prayer life? Is it only in effect in times of need or do you thank God for each and every thing? Do you study the Word for yourself, or do you wait for Saturday or Sunday morning, or maybe Wednesday night to get a little Bible in? Do you talk comfortably about faith? Do you walk in faith? Is your life a testimony, a message, about how good God is in your life, or do you walk around forlorn, forgetting that you’ve been saved and promised eternal life? What will guide your marriage?

Is your house clean or a hot mess? What’s your relationship with your parents? Do you want children, or how is the current relationship between you and your children AND you and their other parent? Do you have any hobbies and interests? Do you pamper yourself with hot, relaxing baths, soothing rubs that make your skin soft, supple, and touchable? Do you take time to relax, thinking of nothing but the moment?

If you haven’t considered any of this, if you’re not already taking care of yourself, how then can you love and live peacefully with someone else? Being with someone else will not replace the need for you to be taking care of yourself now. No one can do these things for you; don’t expect for anyone to “save” you. You’ve got to be whole before you enter into marriage; one-half of each person in a relationship doesn’t make a whole marriage.

Sadiqqa © 2007

The devil tempts but doesn’t force.
-- Guyana proverb

You and your work buddies just spent the last hour talking about your co-worker, and not in a favorable manner. You talked disparagingly about what she’s wearing, her hair, her work, even her kids. You called her a no good so n’ so, said she had no business thinking she is who she is, and offered up that she should be fired. When you got to your office and sat down at your desk, you realized the mess you’d created and been a part of and said, “Lord, forgive me. The devil made me do it.”

As you dressed for work this morning, you reflected on last evening when you dined with the most fabulous woman you’d met in a while. You and she shared interesting conversation that became intimate and cozy. The conversation led you hand-in-hand out of the restaurant, into your car, and headed to her home – the home she shared with her husband who happened to be out of town on business. You and she made wild, passionate love in the same bed that she and her husband conceived their children. Now as you think back on it, waves of guilt overtake you, and looking for some way out of the mess you’d been a part of, you say, “the devil made me do it.”

You were out of staples, paper clips, and scotch tape. You also needed more copy paper and labels. After hours at work, you went into the supply room, restocked those items, and put them in your attaché case to cart to your business on the side. Yes, for the past 6 years, your 9 – 5 has done more than supplied you with a paycheck. You’ve copped everything from office supplies and software to office furniture and random use of the company van to stock your flourishing home business. You said to yourself, “a big company like this, they’ll never miss this stuff. Besides I helped them make their profits, I deserve to take these perks.” In the middle of the night last night, it occurred to you, when you moved all the reasons why out of the way, that what you were doing was stealing. Ashamed and embarrassed about your actions, you cried. Then, in an attempt to feel better, you said, “the devil made me do it.”

Clever line; quick tactic, passing off the responsibility of your actions to somebody else. If there was ever anybody to blame, certainly your scandalous and distressing actions belong to the devil’s division.

But what about the gift of free will? The gift of free choice? Can the devil, the enemy, actually make you do anything without your choosing?

We do things, good and bad, based on our own ideas. Blaming our bad ideas and choices on another force is convenient and done so casually that before we realize it, we’ve taken ourselves off the hook as though we were mere puppets in the unfolding of unpleasant events of our lives, like we had no part in them whatsoever. Isn’t it irrational to not hold yourself accountable for the things you do?

But how funny is it that we don’t relinquish accountability when the good stuff has happened for us? Then it’s all about what we did. Why be accountable for the good and not the bad? Again, that’s just not rational thinking.

Both the enemy and God tell us what to do. You can think of it if you wish as the wicked angel on one shoulder and the moral angel on the other, both whispering in your ear the path to travel. On most occasions, one voice is just as loud as the other and both offer solutions that will remedy the problem, of course, however, with different ends. It’s your choice whose instructions and what end you will follow.

But don’t blame the devil when you make a bad choice. Just as you ignore God, you can certainly ignore the enemy’s taunts.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Love makes your soul crawl out of its hiding place.
-- Zora Neale Hurston

When you finally give in to love, to the possibilities of love, to the rain or shine of love, things start to happen. Your skin clears up – perhaps because the endorphins your body releases during the high of love stimulate your immune system which then kills the bacteria that tries to escape through the pores in your face. Your body gets loosened – maybe because you become more conscious of the extra 20 pounds you’ve packed on since your hiatus from love, so you quicken your exercise routine which relaxes your tired bones and better circulates your blood. Your hair does magical things – probably because, since you want to be sure you’re looking good for your honey, you’ve found the extra time and money to get it trimmed or your ends clipped which makes your hair respond much differently than when you used to just pull it back in a ponytail or let a short afro rule your crown. Your voice is sweeter – say your honey’s name; don’t you sound sweet? Even your walk has a unique bounce – you’ve remembered how to twist your hips and enliven your swagger.

When you finally give in to love, the birds, the cicadas, and the crickets sing your tune – every tweet, hum, and rubbing together of the legs work together to accentuate the natural melody and mood you hear and feel in your head and heart. Every song on the radio is your song – from Fantasia’s “When I See U,” Musiq’s “Teachme,” and Ruben’s “Make Ya Feel Beautiful” to Big & Rich’s “Lost in This Moment,” Tim and Faith’s “I Need You,” and Little Big Town’s “A Little More You.” Even Frederic Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 2 in E Flat Major, Op. 9, No. 2” and the cyclic clanging of a bell and chanting monks in a Tibetan monastery do it for you when you’re head over heels in love.

Everything smells different, fresher; people look different; keener; and the world turns just right, right enough for you to have all the time in the world for loving your honey.

And all this because love tapped on the door of your soul’s hiding place.

Aren’t you glad you answered?

Sadiqqa © 2007

Your problem is you’ve put yourself in a box, you’ve labeled the box, and you never let yourself step out of that box.
-- “Skeith,” from the book, “You Made Me Love You,” by Joanne Goodman

Are you really into accounting spreadsheets, straight-laced navy and black business suits, and board meetings with high-faluting self-important people, or do you long to be an artist painting on a scenic balcony in the south of France overlooking the Mediterranean coastline? What about a musician playing on international stages before millions and winning Grammy Awards, American Music Awards, World Music Awards, and the coveted Pulitzer Prize in Music? Or an entrepreneur who started a multi-national business on $50, a hobby, and magnanimous faith?

Or, what, did you get caught up in mama and daddy’s post-civil rights era conundrum – you know, the “now we can realistically aspire to be doctors, lawyers, and corporate execs” – and get trapped in a reliable and dependable job with guaranteed benefits, a pension, and a monotonous, ho-hum routine? Are you playing it safe by doing what’s expected, limiting your abilities and outlook, and putting your dreams and passions away for sometimes later, maybe after retirement from your corporate job, or for summer’s when you’re on vacation from 9 months of teaching?

There’s nothing wrong with living inside a knowable, unsurprising box. It’s comfortable and familiar in there. You’ve carved out a corner for yourself that allows you to see all 6 walls of the box, and really, you’ve decorated quite nicely. The trouble is your body – your spirit – is tiring of the same view; it’s tiring of holding itself in bent and stiff. It’s tired of being ignored.

Your spirit and the passions inside want to stretch out, live, and take center stage. They want to not be what mama an’ em said you should be; they want you to balk at traditional and conventional living and embrace them with all you’ve got. They want to show the world who you really are. And no matter what you do to quiet them, they will still exist and continue to rise, cut up, and make noise until you let them breathe and have their way.

Do something different; do what your heart desires. Maybe you’re not ready to give up the comfort of your box, but don’t wait too long. Cardboard eventually disintegrates and its contents lose their flavor and freshness.

Sadiqqa © 2007

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.
-- Leo Buscaglia

This Monday morning, on your way in to the office, you traveled the same route you do each work day. You impassively passed by the morning walkers, joggers, and porch sitting coffee drinkers in your neighborhood. You expressionlessly drove around the mailman and the other morning travelers leaving their driveways. You stopped by your usual morning eatery to get your regular sausage biscuit with grape jelly, hash brown, and strong cup of coffee and indifferently handed the cashier your money. You apathetically passed the people on the corner with their signs for work and food; you disinterestedly saw the bus stop regulars climbing aboard; and you impassively passed the guy who rides his bicycle in to work every morning.

When you greeted your teammate with a soulless grunt, you didn’t notice the look of anguish on his face, the one that begged for someone to listen to the story of his weekend and hear the pained words on his heart. Instead, you nonchalantly headed for your office and, trying not to appear aloof, decided against shutting your door. You began solemnly digging into your work responsibilities, deliberately shutting down every opportunity for morning banter and affability.

During the regular Monday morning team meeting, you vehemently attacked every review, criticized each plan of action, and stalemated the advancement of the current team project. While your assessments may have been accurate and astute, their delivery was less than civil and genteel.

By mid-morning, you had managed to ignore, discount, and annoy the people you live around each day. What real difference have you made in the world today? And in what shape did you leave your home?

Sure, Monday mornings are a drag. It’s hard to recover from even the mildest weekend of just sleeping in. But is that any reason to treat the world around you with disregard?

Imagine the warmth a smile to the porch sitters and walkers would have generated this morning. Imagine if you’d smiled and said “thank you” to the cashier at the restaurant, the next person in line may have had a better chance at receiving more gracious service. A simple “good morning!” to the corner people probably would have made them feel less invisible, and had you simply engaged your teammate in clearing his mind and heart, maybe you’d be guaranteed a more amiable working relationship and environment and maybe you could have taken into consideration the hard work others put into their jobs, gently critiquing their efforts, helping them to make the most of constructive criticism.

Maybe you wouldn’t now be looking for an aspirin to alleviate your headache and the pain in your shoulders.

Maybe you’d get more work done.

Maybe you wouldn’t get ignored on your way home.

Sadiqqa © 2007

You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean, if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.
-- Mohandas K. Gandhi

The main story on the evening news last night was about immigrant boys in gangs who had committed heinous crimes throughout the city. The crimes committed were horrifying and varied, and caused shame and embarrassment among their parents and other people in their community. Meanwhile, other citizens of the city began to clutch their purses even tighter and call their representatives to advise tougher immigration laws.

A few rotten apples don’t bring the whole tree down.

Some of the kids in the neighborhood all wear the same color shirts. They are always huddled up and one guy seems to be preaching or lecturing to the others. They all flock to the same familiar car and disperse like roaches when the light of the police cars come down the street. The neighbors keep their doors locked and windows closed; nobody even sits on their large ornate porches. When the children selling cookie dough and magazines for the annual school fundraisers come around, the people won’t even open the doors, believing these kids are also up to no good.

All the chips in the bag aren’t crumbs.

Your history with the opposite sex has been eventful, yet discouraging. You throw yourself wholeheartedly into your relationships but end up, after each of them, let down, betrayed, and declaring never again to give your heart away. But this one feels different; no silly games, honest conversation, sincere concern for your well-being; this one feels different. But your instincts fooled you before. They all initially felt good, then, just when you’d begun to believe again, they ended sourly and hurtfully. You’re afraid to go there again.

A few monkeys don’t stop no show.

The man running the 7-Eleven looks like Osama. Sure, he’s run that corner store for many, many years, but, these days, you can’t be too sure. Your signature on the petition would be the last one needed to convince your neighbors to stop patronizing his store.

A rotten place on the banana doesn’t make the whole banana bad.

There’ll always be a few who make it tough for the masses. There’ll always be voices louder than the masses, and there’ll always be appalling actions by a few that overshadow the good deeds of the masses. But don’t throw in the towel on the whole bunch. Just because some white people treated black folks unfairly, doesn’t mean all white people are the devil. Just because some African Americans and Latinos hold down the cells in prison, doesn’t mean all of either race are criminals. And just because that person treated you like a dog doesn’t mean everybody will.

Have faith in people and only castigate the individuals who cause the pain and trouble. Don’t let single impressions guide your reactions to all people in the world. None of us are them; we’re only us.

Sadiqqa © 2007