Imagine that your life is a giant wheel with spokes that reach out and touch every area of your life - work, relationships, family, community, health. At the center of this wheel is a core of knowledge, wisdom and experience called You. The more rooted you are to this center, the more connected you'll be to your values, needs and desires - and your life will take on a deeper sense of meaning and purpose.
-- Cheryl Richardson
I’d been searching for THE PERFECT grilled cheese sandwich. That’s right, a grilled cheese sandwich. Cheese, bread, and butter melted together just so. Maybe a pickle on the side.
I searched all over town – the parts of town with the most eclectic eateries that were certain to specialize in fancy breads and cheeses, and the parts of town where you’d need to get your bread and cheese and get out of there before dark. The fancy places made their grilled cheese sandwiches with sourdough or rye breads, flatbreads or any variation of whole grain breads. The cheeses – all of them fresh – ranged from Muenster and Gouda to Brie and Gorgonzola. All of them were sprinkled with some sort of spice for that extra tang – which of course you must have because why else would you want to buy a grilled cheese sandwich at a fancy eating place but for the tang and spice, right? I had quite a few of those upmarket cheese sandwiches; they were very good. But, there was always something not quite right, always something missing.
At the not-so-fancy restaurants, the grilled cheese sandwiches consisted of Cheddar or American cheese, maybe some Swiss, Monterey, or Pepper Jack cheese, slapped haphazardly – and only slightly melted – between bread. And when I say bread, I mean just bread, nothing elaborate or expensive. One restaurant plopped some processed cheese between a couple pieces of Wonder Bread – I saw the red, yellow, and blue circles on the bread bag – and told me to have a nice day. Another restaurant made me a blackened hoecake with their logo burned into it. I knew it was their logo because of the indentations on the press they used to set and smash my poor little sandwich.
I even ordered a kids’ meal grilled cheese sandwich thinking that something so simple would be made to please. I turned that place in to Children’s Services for cruelty to children.
I finally came to a conclusion. Either no one knew what a real grilled cheese sandwich should look and taste like, or, perhaps, I wanted too much. I have been guilty of such.
So, endlessly craving a grilled cheese sandwich, and not satisfied with what I’d found anywhere, I grabbed the tried-and-true skillet I inherited from my aunt, got the honey wheat bread, cheddar cheese, and salty butter – yes, salty butter! – from my frig and commenced to making me a grilled cheese sandwich.
Now, I’ve made grilled cheese sandwiches forever and ever on my stove but at that moment it occurred to me that I made the greatest grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever tasted! I had all the ingredients and I could make it the way I wanted it.
Making my sandwich in my kitchen, I realized I didn’t have to wait in restaurants for somebody to create their version of a good grilled cheese sandwich. I didn’t have to wait for someone else to put my bread and cheese together; I could get that right for myself and better than they could for me. And while there was nothing wrong with waiting for the cooks to fix my sandwich, I could cook too, and I knew my sandwich was worth the wait.
Making my sandwich meant paying attention to what I really liked. It meant paying attention to the ingredients I used and how much of them I added. My sandwich was made with care and, if it wasn’t exactly the way I wanted it, I could start over and make it again. I could even get my cookie cutter from the drawer and make a Christmas tree shaped grilled cheese sandwich if that’s the way I wanted it. Couldn’t get that at the canteens about town.
Making my grilled cheese sandwich was not fancy; I didn’t include any French breads, German cheeses, or Italian spices. The only effort it took was putting to use what I already had. Standing over the stove was more than a notion for me – cooking is not my gig – but the outcome was satisfying when I sat at my little table and took that first scrumptious bite. Never again have I needed to have a grilled cheese sandwich from anywhere but my own house. I have everything I need.
Jun 16, 2009
For months I’ve been screaming about order
For months I’ve been screaming about order – where is it, who took it, and what can I do to get it back? I know I’ve had it because, once upon a time, I could think clearly, breathe freer, and walk through a room without stepping on a thingamajig randomly left here or a thingamabob haphazardly placed there.
I’ve been looking for order in my home, trying desperately to pare down what my baby and I have lived with for far too long. The stuff in my home – the clothes I’ve held onto hoping to wear again; the books I’ve read still on the bookshelves waiting for another reader to discover; the knick-knacks we’ve collected now collecting dust; and let’s not mention the random papers that come in and out of the house everyday – not only weighs my house down, but it weighs us down too. But, after a few moved bookcases, a shredding binge, and several trips – sometimes daily – to the recycling bin and donation sites, I found that the need to order is much bigger than cleaning and clearing my house.
Psychologists – or anybody with good sense for that matter – will tell you the stuff around you is an indication of the stuff inside you; if it’s messy outside, you’ve got to be a wreck inside. Many other mental health professionals would argue that chronic disorder is a sign of ADHD or depression, that behind such disorganization hide grave feelings of inadequacy and fears we’ve yet to address and conquer, and merely “straightening up” is simple window covering. There are many of us who gather stuff in order to keep the world from really seeing who we are or who we’re not, and there’re many others who live on top of the stuff because doing otherwise would upset our who applecart. So as I look around my house, even as close as the desk from which I type, I have to ask myself some serious questions about what’s really going on deep inside.
Excuse me while I attempt to organize some papers...
I’m not ADHD or clinically depressed, and I have very few feelings of lack. I’ve got some fears, but, like most people’s, those fears are manageable. But I am convinced that order is not about the stacks and piles of paper or unworn clothing hiding out in the closet. I believe it’s about being aligned mind, body, and soul.
So how do you get all of you aligned accordingly? How do you get your emotions, physical health and appearance, and your spiritual life in sync?
Of course you first have to realize that each realm is dependant upon the others, and that when one is out of whack, the other two will certainly suffer the same fate, and vice versa. And then you must realize that the process of becoming aligned is an on-going, life-long practice. One year you may be lined up very well and have all of your Self in great operating order. But the next year, you live so disharmoniously with yourself you hardly recognize the person in the mirror. Keeping your whole self in order is like the ebb and flow of the ocean or like going to the chiropractor – one time won’t keep you straight, you have to keep going back. You have to keep paying attention. You have to be intentional. You have to give yourself room to be human and a work in progress. You can’t beat yourself up because everything is in disarray and you don’t seem to have the sense God gave you to get it all lined up and in order.
Unless disorder drives you absolutely crazy in the first place, in which case means you don’t have this problem and this post is just confirmation of everything you’ve always said about those of us who can’t keep it together. Bless your heart. You should teach some classes.
Wherever order went, I invite it and the peace it brings back. I’m anxious to see what it looks like. Until then, let me get back to those papers.
I’ve been looking for order in my home, trying desperately to pare down what my baby and I have lived with for far too long. The stuff in my home – the clothes I’ve held onto hoping to wear again; the books I’ve read still on the bookshelves waiting for another reader to discover; the knick-knacks we’ve collected now collecting dust; and let’s not mention the random papers that come in and out of the house everyday – not only weighs my house down, but it weighs us down too. But, after a few moved bookcases, a shredding binge, and several trips – sometimes daily – to the recycling bin and donation sites, I found that the need to order is much bigger than cleaning and clearing my house.
Psychologists – or anybody with good sense for that matter – will tell you the stuff around you is an indication of the stuff inside you; if it’s messy outside, you’ve got to be a wreck inside. Many other mental health professionals would argue that chronic disorder is a sign of ADHD or depression, that behind such disorganization hide grave feelings of inadequacy and fears we’ve yet to address and conquer, and merely “straightening up” is simple window covering. There are many of us who gather stuff in order to keep the world from really seeing who we are or who we’re not, and there’re many others who live on top of the stuff because doing otherwise would upset our who applecart. So as I look around my house, even as close as the desk from which I type, I have to ask myself some serious questions about what’s really going on deep inside.
Excuse me while I attempt to organize some papers...
I’m not ADHD or clinically depressed, and I have very few feelings of lack. I’ve got some fears, but, like most people’s, those fears are manageable. But I am convinced that order is not about the stacks and piles of paper or unworn clothing hiding out in the closet. I believe it’s about being aligned mind, body, and soul.
So how do you get all of you aligned accordingly? How do you get your emotions, physical health and appearance, and your spiritual life in sync?
Of course you first have to realize that each realm is dependant upon the others, and that when one is out of whack, the other two will certainly suffer the same fate, and vice versa. And then you must realize that the process of becoming aligned is an on-going, life-long practice. One year you may be lined up very well and have all of your Self in great operating order. But the next year, you live so disharmoniously with yourself you hardly recognize the person in the mirror. Keeping your whole self in order is like the ebb and flow of the ocean or like going to the chiropractor – one time won’t keep you straight, you have to keep going back. You have to keep paying attention. You have to be intentional. You have to give yourself room to be human and a work in progress. You can’t beat yourself up because everything is in disarray and you don’t seem to have the sense God gave you to get it all lined up and in order.
Unless disorder drives you absolutely crazy in the first place, in which case means you don’t have this problem and this post is just confirmation of everything you’ve always said about those of us who can’t keep it together. Bless your heart. You should teach some classes.
Wherever order went, I invite it and the peace it brings back. I’m anxious to see what it looks like. Until then, let me get back to those papers.
Jun 11, 2009
I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple
I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.-- Alice Walker’s “Shug Avery” from The Color Purple
It rained really hard here today. Hail smacked the window, water eroded the soil around my sidewalk, and you could barely see through the sheaths of rain coming down. At one time, the winds were so high and fierce, the maple’s tree limbs were threatening to break and hit the house. The lights flickered and stopped this post for a few brief minutes, and it got so dark, I almost climbed back in bed.
I’m still tempted to do that...
But now the rain storm has passed. It’s lighter outside, they’re no swaying trees, and the sky has stopped all that loud clapping. Blake, my black lab, has settled down, and is actually napping. The birds have returned and I even see a couple of white butterflies. Everything outside looks well watered and refreshed. That’s the beauty of the rain storm after the storm.
But as I look out on the dripping trees and grass, I wonder what I missed in the moments of the storm. Did I fail to notice that as the wind was angrily blowing the tree’s limbs, the leaves seemed to cup the raindrops it caught? Did I miss the way the tree itself seemed to stand taller enjoying the bath it received after a hot and humid early morning?
And, why, when it was hot and muggy this morning, did I not pay attention to how it was effecting my body, that perhaps the humidity made my 2-mile walk longer and heavier and my mental capacity and mood sluggish and sulky? Perhaps that’s why I want to go back to bed.
Well, I know how I missed it. I was in a hurry to get it all over with – the rain, the walk, everything. I was also preoccupied with this on my mind and that thought over there. So, in my hurry and with my mind somewhere else, I know I missed many of the things God put here for us to see and appreciate.
I think God is not only disturbed that we don’t notice the flowers and the trees, God is probably also irritated when we don’t notice the beauty of and on the whole earth. We don’t hear the songs of the birds or the trickles of the water in the rain puddles. We miss the expressions on the faces we see each day; we miss being aware of our inner voice, and we especially miss taking notice of the real needs of those closest to us. We hear what’s on the surface and in the sound bites, living only on the surface and off the sound bites, leaving the sensing of the substance for the poets and the days when we’re forced to be still. If I were God I’d be pissed off. It can’t be easy making the daylilies’ blooms yellow, red, pink and purple. It’s certainly couldn’t have been simple to craft your personality and mine. And in no way is it an uncomplicated act to make a cold front meet a warm front and create a powerful storm and the sun still be shining through. Heck yeah, if I was God, I’d be so pissed I’d make everything dark so you couldn’t see anything.
But I’m not God and that ain’t God... Thank you, God.
Right now, the sun is out; I guess it’s really not a time for sleeping or missing what God’s got going on outside. I’m going out there to see what I can see. Don’t you miss it.
It rained really hard here today. Hail smacked the window, water eroded the soil around my sidewalk, and you could barely see through the sheaths of rain coming down. At one time, the winds were so high and fierce, the maple’s tree limbs were threatening to break and hit the house. The lights flickered and stopped this post for a few brief minutes, and it got so dark, I almost climbed back in bed.
I’m still tempted to do that...
But now the rain storm has passed. It’s lighter outside, they’re no swaying trees, and the sky has stopped all that loud clapping. Blake, my black lab, has settled down, and is actually napping. The birds have returned and I even see a couple of white butterflies. Everything outside looks well watered and refreshed. That’s the beauty of the rain storm after the storm.
But as I look out on the dripping trees and grass, I wonder what I missed in the moments of the storm. Did I fail to notice that as the wind was angrily blowing the tree’s limbs, the leaves seemed to cup the raindrops it caught? Did I miss the way the tree itself seemed to stand taller enjoying the bath it received after a hot and humid early morning?
And, why, when it was hot and muggy this morning, did I not pay attention to how it was effecting my body, that perhaps the humidity made my 2-mile walk longer and heavier and my mental capacity and mood sluggish and sulky? Perhaps that’s why I want to go back to bed.
Well, I know how I missed it. I was in a hurry to get it all over with – the rain, the walk, everything. I was also preoccupied with this on my mind and that thought over there. So, in my hurry and with my mind somewhere else, I know I missed many of the things God put here for us to see and appreciate.
I think God is not only disturbed that we don’t notice the flowers and the trees, God is probably also irritated when we don’t notice the beauty of and on the whole earth. We don’t hear the songs of the birds or the trickles of the water in the rain puddles. We miss the expressions on the faces we see each day; we miss being aware of our inner voice, and we especially miss taking notice of the real needs of those closest to us. We hear what’s on the surface and in the sound bites, living only on the surface and off the sound bites, leaving the sensing of the substance for the poets and the days when we’re forced to be still. If I were God I’d be pissed off. It can’t be easy making the daylilies’ blooms yellow, red, pink and purple. It’s certainly couldn’t have been simple to craft your personality and mine. And in no way is it an uncomplicated act to make a cold front meet a warm front and create a powerful storm and the sun still be shining through. Heck yeah, if I was God, I’d be so pissed I’d make everything dark so you couldn’t see anything.
But I’m not God and that ain’t God... Thank you, God.
Right now, the sun is out; I guess it’s really not a time for sleeping or missing what God’s got going on outside. I’m going out there to see what I can see. Don’t you miss it.
Jun 9, 2009
This morning, I sat in the beautiful and gracefully inviting garden
This morning, I sat in the beautiful and gracefully inviting garden of one of my dearest friends. I drank refreshing raspberry lemonade from a wine glass, got my locs eyeballed by a sneaking spider, had my ankle sized up by a seasoned bumblebee, and talked about life and the love of it in a way that can only be discussed in a garden over lemonade with the elements and a wise friend.
Much of our time was spent marveling at the way nature thrives when it’s loved and nurtured. Her petunias, the sedum, the cactus with fresh bulbs, and the orange hibiscus were luscious and breathtaking because of the care she’d taken in making their home serene and generous with just what they needed. Sitting among this life, I couldn’t help but think of how my friend’s garden so mimicked her life and the one many of us are trying to capture and create. My friend’s life is sheathed by simplicity, creativity, and contentment, traits that are all too fleeting if not totally vanished.
Lots of us spend our lives working on and toward the “ideal” life – one full of material wealth gained from working in this career or taking that job so we could acquire even more wealth. We’ve tucked away a bit here and there for our golden years so we’d have cushion to live on, travel the world if we like, and leave something to our children. It is, of course, important in this day and age to make a nest egg for ourselves and to have money and benefits enough to live on. We’re living longer lives so it’s imperative we have what we need when we enter the years after retirement from active work or whatever it is we did when we were younger.
But, we do all that at the expense of overwork, stress and its effects on our health, and the missed chance of watching daisies grow on the patio. Are we working too hard and too much to watch something as simple as the substance of a garden in bloom? Are we doing too much that we only demand our children be this because of that, and living with them in fear of this moment and a dubious and difficult tomorrow instead of encouraging them to bloom and be inspired by their innate abilities? Are you working so hard to keep your ends met that you’ve let wither that brainchild you’ve flowered for years, the one that could sprout and spread if you’d turn loose the safe yet predictable job you’ve held onto for years, the idea that haunts you and screams aloud that you should be doing it instead of working for someone else?
Of course I’m the last person who’d balk at comfort and predictability; I’m a teacher with a relatively dependable salary, benefits, and 2 months of down time. How much more predictable can you get?
But the point is, all the hard work, degrees, money saved, and things we’ve gathered aren’t getting us closer to simplicity or happiness. And there’s very little creativity attached to any of it.
When I left my friend’s, I ended up at a little pizzeria that lauded making your food fresh at the time of your order which gave me time to reflect on my visit in the garden. None of my thoughts really came together until I read a poster on the wall. Some of it read –
Today I’m choosing the simple. I’m paring it down and out. And, perhaps if more of us sought what was simple and uncomplicated, our collective creativity could soar and we may even find contentment, or at least something to genuinely smile and feel good about. Or, perhaps it’s not that clear-cut; maybe there’s a lot more to it than simplicity and happiness. After all, you still have the creepy spiders, the menacing bumblebees, the rocky economy, and all the other stuff that can make life unpleasant and scary. But does that mean you can’t enjoy the garden, even till your own special place to breathe in and create newness? I refuse to think so.
Much of our time was spent marveling at the way nature thrives when it’s loved and nurtured. Her petunias, the sedum, the cactus with fresh bulbs, and the orange hibiscus were luscious and breathtaking because of the care she’d taken in making their home serene and generous with just what they needed. Sitting among this life, I couldn’t help but think of how my friend’s garden so mimicked her life and the one many of us are trying to capture and create. My friend’s life is sheathed by simplicity, creativity, and contentment, traits that are all too fleeting if not totally vanished.
Lots of us spend our lives working on and toward the “ideal” life – one full of material wealth gained from working in this career or taking that job so we could acquire even more wealth. We’ve tucked away a bit here and there for our golden years so we’d have cushion to live on, travel the world if we like, and leave something to our children. It is, of course, important in this day and age to make a nest egg for ourselves and to have money and benefits enough to live on. We’re living longer lives so it’s imperative we have what we need when we enter the years after retirement from active work or whatever it is we did when we were younger.
But, we do all that at the expense of overwork, stress and its effects on our health, and the missed chance of watching daisies grow on the patio. Are we working too hard and too much to watch something as simple as the substance of a garden in bloom? Are we doing too much that we only demand our children be this because of that, and living with them in fear of this moment and a dubious and difficult tomorrow instead of encouraging them to bloom and be inspired by their innate abilities? Are you working so hard to keep your ends met that you’ve let wither that brainchild you’ve flowered for years, the one that could sprout and spread if you’d turn loose the safe yet predictable job you’ve held onto for years, the idea that haunts you and screams aloud that you should be doing it instead of working for someone else?
Of course I’m the last person who’d balk at comfort and predictability; I’m a teacher with a relatively dependable salary, benefits, and 2 months of down time. How much more predictable can you get?
But the point is, all the hard work, degrees, money saved, and things we’ve gathered aren’t getting us closer to simplicity or happiness. And there’s very little creativity attached to any of it.
When I left my friend’s, I ended up at a little pizzeria that lauded making your food fresh at the time of your order which gave me time to reflect on my visit in the garden. None of my thoughts really came together until I read a poster on the wall. Some of it read –
“The paradox of our time in history is that we ... spend more, but have less;
buy more, but enjoy it less; have more conveniences, but less time... We have
multiplied our possessions, but reduced our value. We talk too much, love too
seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life.
We’ve added years to life, not life to years... It is a time when there is much
in the show window and nothing in the stockroom. It is a time when we can choose
either to make a difference or languish in the paradox.”
Today I’m choosing the simple. I’m paring it down and out. And, perhaps if more of us sought what was simple and uncomplicated, our collective creativity could soar and we may even find contentment, or at least something to genuinely smile and feel good about. Or, perhaps it’s not that clear-cut; maybe there’s a lot more to it than simplicity and happiness. After all, you still have the creepy spiders, the menacing bumblebees, the rocky economy, and all the other stuff that can make life unpleasant and scary. But does that mean you can’t enjoy the garden, even till your own special place to breathe in and create newness? I refuse to think so.
Jul 7, 2008
Don’t ask for a light load
Don’t ask for a light load, but rather ask for a strong back.-- Author Unknown
Remind yourself of all the times you believed the tasks ahead of you were too difficult or too demanding. What did you do? Did you give up and find something easier to tackle? Did you whine, cry, and complain until someone came to your aid and did the tasks for you? Did you do the tasks any kind of way just to get them done and then watch them turn out in a way that wasn’t so great or at least less than the best? Or did you just dig in until you got the missions accomplished?
Remind yourself of the times you dug in and worked hard and long to get a thing done. What’d you do? When you took the task apart a little at a time, did you stare the challenge in its face and declare yourself the conqueror – whether you believed it or not? Did you find your guts and chutzpah then slowly but certainly expand your brain power, temperament, outlook, and approach to get the job done? Did you focus your entire energies on the job and commit your mind and muscles to fully cooperate as you pulled off the task? The more intensive the task became, did you keep employing inward motivation and resolve, and when the task didn’t work just right the first time, did you push through surrender and discover new reserves of patience and resiliency tucked beside the alcoves of your wit and right below the bay of your heart? Did you look up and become encouraged as you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, your supporters cheering you on, and satisfaction approaching?
Did you pat yourself on the back when you got the thing done? Did you look different? Did you feel stronger, more powerful? Did you take that same look and feel on to the next task and get it done with the identical spirit, doggedness, courage, and gusto you mustered with your previous task? Did you have to dig deeper to find greater stockpiles of muscle and hustle? Did you find it easier to search your wellsprings for what you needed? When your territory was enlarged and your efforts paid off, did you celebrate your accomplishment and lovingly reward yourself with admiration?
The truth be told, the load doesn’t really ever get lighter, and the mess is usually always somewhere near. But you’ve built up enough ingenuity, agency, and willpower to get through it like the champ you are. Keep reminding yourself of that.
Of course, in retrospect, if you want to really assess and revere how far you’ve come, think of the situations in which you did throw in the towel, whine really loudly, and do the thing just any old way just to get it done. Yeah, you had your reasons for doing such – some valid, others shady. But now think on all the skill sets you’ve developed since that time. You’re stronger, wiser, sharper, more ambitious, and especially buoyant these days. Heck, if you wanted to, you could go back and handle all that stuff now. But what’s the point in going back when there’s so much more ahead to tackle? You didn’t know then what you know now, you weren’t supposed to, and who the hell’s keeping track anyway?
Take your load, take it slow, keep digging and building your backbone for the next load for a strong back makes for greater strides.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Remind yourself of all the times you believed the tasks ahead of you were too difficult or too demanding. What did you do? Did you give up and find something easier to tackle? Did you whine, cry, and complain until someone came to your aid and did the tasks for you? Did you do the tasks any kind of way just to get them done and then watch them turn out in a way that wasn’t so great or at least less than the best? Or did you just dig in until you got the missions accomplished?
Remind yourself of the times you dug in and worked hard and long to get a thing done. What’d you do? When you took the task apart a little at a time, did you stare the challenge in its face and declare yourself the conqueror – whether you believed it or not? Did you find your guts and chutzpah then slowly but certainly expand your brain power, temperament, outlook, and approach to get the job done? Did you focus your entire energies on the job and commit your mind and muscles to fully cooperate as you pulled off the task? The more intensive the task became, did you keep employing inward motivation and resolve, and when the task didn’t work just right the first time, did you push through surrender and discover new reserves of patience and resiliency tucked beside the alcoves of your wit and right below the bay of your heart? Did you look up and become encouraged as you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, your supporters cheering you on, and satisfaction approaching?
Did you pat yourself on the back when you got the thing done? Did you look different? Did you feel stronger, more powerful? Did you take that same look and feel on to the next task and get it done with the identical spirit, doggedness, courage, and gusto you mustered with your previous task? Did you have to dig deeper to find greater stockpiles of muscle and hustle? Did you find it easier to search your wellsprings for what you needed? When your territory was enlarged and your efforts paid off, did you celebrate your accomplishment and lovingly reward yourself with admiration?
The truth be told, the load doesn’t really ever get lighter, and the mess is usually always somewhere near. But you’ve built up enough ingenuity, agency, and willpower to get through it like the champ you are. Keep reminding yourself of that.
Of course, in retrospect, if you want to really assess and revere how far you’ve come, think of the situations in which you did throw in the towel, whine really loudly, and do the thing just any old way just to get it done. Yeah, you had your reasons for doing such – some valid, others shady. But now think on all the skill sets you’ve developed since that time. You’re stronger, wiser, sharper, more ambitious, and especially buoyant these days. Heck, if you wanted to, you could go back and handle all that stuff now. But what’s the point in going back when there’s so much more ahead to tackle? You didn’t know then what you know now, you weren’t supposed to, and who the hell’s keeping track anyway?
Take your load, take it slow, keep digging and building your backbone for the next load for a strong back makes for greater strides.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jul 2, 2008
Given all the facts cited above and according to all psychological theory, black women in America should have the highest rate of suicide; yet we press on and live on. We make up seventy percent of our congregations on our churches. We are the ones holding our homes together.
-- Audrey F. Bronson, “Sister to Sister”
Enough said? Some of us would think so. Even the “Thought...,” thought so some few years ago, bless its heart.
But let’s give credit to the other half of the African American equation. Brothas, you are awesome, too!
Too often, when lifting Black women and lauding our hard earned accomplishments, we fail to mention Black men optimistically. Every Black man is not a playa, a dead beat, or a moocher. There are many who hold women in the highest esteem. There are many who walk with us and hold us up when our walk becomes too overwhelming or frightening. There are Black men who would give their lives just to see us, our children, and community remain unharmed and empowered. You know these men.
These are the Black men who stay and endure the hardships with us so that we don’t commit suicide or homicide. These are the Brothas who work hard to make life happen as positively and fruitfully as they can despite the many obstacles and interferences stacked against them and us. These are the men who make us laugh after a good cry, smile through the pain, and feel at ease when all hell has broken loose and there’s no visible light at the end of the tunnel. You know these men.
These are the Black men who would never think of committing acts of violence against us, even when we’ve pulled the last straw and thrown the first blow. These are the men who love us even when we find it hard to love ourselves; the Black men who love our children as fathers even though they aren’t theirs; the Brothas who hold family in its rightful place; and the Brothas who are conscious and work diligently to fulfill the needs in our families, the community, and across the world. You do know these men.
If you aren’t sure, look around you. You see that Brotha over there taking care of his body and mind, who visits his doctor for regular check-ups, guidance, and information? What about that Brotha over there who’s happily pushing his grandson on the swing? Look at that Black man there holding the hand of that beautiful woman with the relaxed and peaceful expression on her face. And what about that Black man over there who showed up for work today, on time, ready to be productive and accountable? You see that one there, speaking his heart and acting on God’s will to make useful change in the world? And check out that Black man there, the one next to you in the pew praising the Creator. See? Yeah, you know them.
A summary of the statistics indicate that Black men have it rough too, right? Let’s never forget or get so caught up in our fight that we forget to laud Brothas and their fight too. Our challenges are huge is big and so are theirs. Keep at the forefront the Fight in its entirety.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Audrey F. Bronson, “Sister to Sister”
Enough said? Some of us would think so. Even the “Thought...,” thought so some few years ago, bless its heart.
But let’s give credit to the other half of the African American equation. Brothas, you are awesome, too!
Too often, when lifting Black women and lauding our hard earned accomplishments, we fail to mention Black men optimistically. Every Black man is not a playa, a dead beat, or a moocher. There are many who hold women in the highest esteem. There are many who walk with us and hold us up when our walk becomes too overwhelming or frightening. There are Black men who would give their lives just to see us, our children, and community remain unharmed and empowered. You know these men.
These are the Black men who stay and endure the hardships with us so that we don’t commit suicide or homicide. These are the Brothas who work hard to make life happen as positively and fruitfully as they can despite the many obstacles and interferences stacked against them and us. These are the men who make us laugh after a good cry, smile through the pain, and feel at ease when all hell has broken loose and there’s no visible light at the end of the tunnel. You know these men.
These are the Black men who would never think of committing acts of violence against us, even when we’ve pulled the last straw and thrown the first blow. These are the men who love us even when we find it hard to love ourselves; the Black men who love our children as fathers even though they aren’t theirs; the Brothas who hold family in its rightful place; and the Brothas who are conscious and work diligently to fulfill the needs in our families, the community, and across the world. You do know these men.
If you aren’t sure, look around you. You see that Brotha over there taking care of his body and mind, who visits his doctor for regular check-ups, guidance, and information? What about that Brotha over there who’s happily pushing his grandson on the swing? Look at that Black man there holding the hand of that beautiful woman with the relaxed and peaceful expression on her face. And what about that Black man over there who showed up for work today, on time, ready to be productive and accountable? You see that one there, speaking his heart and acting on God’s will to make useful change in the world? And check out that Black man there, the one next to you in the pew praising the Creator. See? Yeah, you know them.
A summary of the statistics indicate that Black men have it rough too, right? Let’s never forget or get so caught up in our fight that we forget to laud Brothas and their fight too. Our challenges are huge is big and so are theirs. Keep at the forefront the Fight in its entirety.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 30, 2008
When there are dead ends there are also U-turns, and if we don’t panic, bridges can appear – we just need to trust that there is a way. And there is always a way.
-- Arianna Huffington, “On Becoming Fearless”
Where there is will, there’s a way. If you fell in, you can climb back out. If you fell down, you can get back up. If your back is against the wall, slide attentively along the wall until you find the opening that’ll get you on the other, clearer side.
Some days can be pure hell, and sometimes those days turn into weeks, months, and years at a time, so much so we begin to believe our lives were made for misery. But God did not place you here to live a life of sorrow and misfortune. Jesus did not come to earth for you to suffer and remain in distress. The ancestors didn’t toil this earth for you to unhappy or grief-stricken, and your babies and the babies to come don’t want to – should not have to – wallow in a path of gloom and hopelessness. Turn it around. Life isn’t meant to be that way.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Arianna Huffington, “On Becoming Fearless”
Where there is will, there’s a way. If you fell in, you can climb back out. If you fell down, you can get back up. If your back is against the wall, slide attentively along the wall until you find the opening that’ll get you on the other, clearer side.
Some days can be pure hell, and sometimes those days turn into weeks, months, and years at a time, so much so we begin to believe our lives were made for misery. But God did not place you here to live a life of sorrow and misfortune. Jesus did not come to earth for you to suffer and remain in distress. The ancestors didn’t toil this earth for you to unhappy or grief-stricken, and your babies and the babies to come don’t want to – should not have to – wallow in a path of gloom and hopelessness. Turn it around. Life isn’t meant to be that way.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 25, 2008
As long as you don’t look ahead in the workbook, you can make it through today’s lesson.
-- Cynthia Copeland Lewis, “Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me”
Way down the road looks so far away, especially if you have 6 more laps to go before you make a mile or a year to go before you hit your ideal weight. Down the road is far away if you’ve got to make $3,756 more dollars until you get to $5,000. Down the road is especially far if it’s Wednesday, pay day isn’t until Friday, and you have a negative $500 in your account. Later is a long way off and tomorrow just won’t come quick enough.
All the more reason to enjoy today, or pay attention to this very moment. Instead of getting caught up in what will or won’t happen tomorrow, think of what’s happening right now.
Sure, right now your money’s slim to none and your body is aching as you push toward that mile. But just think – right now, at this very moment, you’re breathing which means you’re alive. Being alive right now means that you can look around and take in all that you see, hear, and feel. And what do you see right now? Possibly you see others of God’s babies trying as you are to make it around that track. My, that lady’s got strong calves. Possibly you hear the birds who’ve joined you for this morning’s stroll singing and cooing their favorite tune. Hmmm, which bird is making that chirp – a blue jay, that sparrow, or is that the call of a morning dove? Maybe you feel the tightening of your hamstrings with each pace or the thinning and stretching of your ab fat with each sway of your hips. Suck in your stomach, bend your knees deeper, tighten your butt. Ahhh. Guess what! Your focus has changed! You’re no longer thinking about the stretch left ahead. As a matter of fact, you’re on the last lap with inches to go. All because you stayed in the moment and paid attention to the now.
Paying attention to the now simply means you’re not overlooking a single thing that’s going on around you, like eating a meal and actually tasting it or driving to work and really seeing all the things on the way. You’re taking in every thing no matter how big or small, savoring its quintessence until you can’t get any more from it, and you’re doing it with every fiber and sensation of your being. Your mind is right there in it, you’re fully present and not somewhere else like on later or tomorrow.
Now, that’s not to say you shouldn’t plan for tomorrow or be prepared for what could come later. By all means, plan because if you’re fortunate enough to see tomorrow, you’ve got to have something in it. But don’t be stumped by tomorrow or even wish that tomorrow would hurry up and get here. Don’t rush your life, you’ve got too much to do and enjoy in this moment.
In the moment – which, if you think about it, it’s the only time you really have – close your eyes, sit quietly, and breathe. Feel the air flowing through your lungs and in and out of your body. Be aware of and acknowledge the thoughts that come into your head. If those thoughts are about tomorrow, or even yesterday, they aren’t about the hum of this moment and, if you’re intentionally trying to focus on the moment, you should immediately put them out of your head. And, it’s not easy to live in or focus on the moment; we are a nation of people too accustomed to multitasking and impatience for the practice of mindfulness to be a simple and basic habit. But with practice, you can do so and ultimately eliminate some of the anxiety and stress that constantly bombard your life.
Tomorrow is important and later on will come. However, investing in right now with your whole self is even more important in order that there be a later on and tomorrow. Do today, right now, and trust that tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Cynthia Copeland Lewis, “Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me”
Way down the road looks so far away, especially if you have 6 more laps to go before you make a mile or a year to go before you hit your ideal weight. Down the road is far away if you’ve got to make $3,756 more dollars until you get to $5,000. Down the road is especially far if it’s Wednesday, pay day isn’t until Friday, and you have a negative $500 in your account. Later is a long way off and tomorrow just won’t come quick enough.
All the more reason to enjoy today, or pay attention to this very moment. Instead of getting caught up in what will or won’t happen tomorrow, think of what’s happening right now.
Sure, right now your money’s slim to none and your body is aching as you push toward that mile. But just think – right now, at this very moment, you’re breathing which means you’re alive. Being alive right now means that you can look around and take in all that you see, hear, and feel. And what do you see right now? Possibly you see others of God’s babies trying as you are to make it around that track. My, that lady’s got strong calves. Possibly you hear the birds who’ve joined you for this morning’s stroll singing and cooing their favorite tune. Hmmm, which bird is making that chirp – a blue jay, that sparrow, or is that the call of a morning dove? Maybe you feel the tightening of your hamstrings with each pace or the thinning and stretching of your ab fat with each sway of your hips. Suck in your stomach, bend your knees deeper, tighten your butt. Ahhh. Guess what! Your focus has changed! You’re no longer thinking about the stretch left ahead. As a matter of fact, you’re on the last lap with inches to go. All because you stayed in the moment and paid attention to the now.
Paying attention to the now simply means you’re not overlooking a single thing that’s going on around you, like eating a meal and actually tasting it or driving to work and really seeing all the things on the way. You’re taking in every thing no matter how big or small, savoring its quintessence until you can’t get any more from it, and you’re doing it with every fiber and sensation of your being. Your mind is right there in it, you’re fully present and not somewhere else like on later or tomorrow.
Now, that’s not to say you shouldn’t plan for tomorrow or be prepared for what could come later. By all means, plan because if you’re fortunate enough to see tomorrow, you’ve got to have something in it. But don’t be stumped by tomorrow or even wish that tomorrow would hurry up and get here. Don’t rush your life, you’ve got too much to do and enjoy in this moment.
In the moment – which, if you think about it, it’s the only time you really have – close your eyes, sit quietly, and breathe. Feel the air flowing through your lungs and in and out of your body. Be aware of and acknowledge the thoughts that come into your head. If those thoughts are about tomorrow, or even yesterday, they aren’t about the hum of this moment and, if you’re intentionally trying to focus on the moment, you should immediately put them out of your head. And, it’s not easy to live in or focus on the moment; we are a nation of people too accustomed to multitasking and impatience for the practice of mindfulness to be a simple and basic habit. But with practice, you can do so and ultimately eliminate some of the anxiety and stress that constantly bombard your life.
Tomorrow is important and later on will come. However, investing in right now with your whole self is even more important in order that there be a later on and tomorrow. Do today, right now, and trust that tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 23, 2008
The people on top of the mountain did not fall there.
-- Author Unknown
No, the people who have taken on the mountain have climbed to its peak step by step and slope by slope.
At the foot of the mountain, the people found themselves stuck in the weighty dust of desolation and the impenetrable mud of confusion and suffering. The air there was murky and cast a shadow of fear and isolation upon those ground dwellers. Walking in endless circles, digging themselves in deeper, and treading more conflict and disorder onto their shoes and into their lives, they decided there was nowhere to go but up. There had to be something better further up.
They began to climb over the sharp rocks near the base of the mountain, rocks that felt like soul piercings that tore at the very core of who they believed themselves to be. The rocks scratched through the surfaces of facades they’d carried and caused those fronts to bleed, open wide, and swiftly ooze the posturing upon which they were built. Now, some, finding it impossible to live without that public face, slid back down the bumpy mountain, bruising and scarring themselves, and accepting their lot, at least for the time being. The others who’d weathered the loosening of the pretentiousness continued their climb, their load lighter and less indistinct.
As they traveled on, they took many breaks. During those times of rest from strenuous, back-breaking climbing over and between the many obstacles that had taken root and formed boulders in their thinking, they discovered wonderful and empowering essentials about themselves. Things like awesome creativity, a love of nature and all things natural, and a desire to help others and do more than take up space on earth. With each new discovery, the people were able to climb further up the mountain. Some, stuck on amassing only a little knowledge – for acquiring a lot required regular climbs into the vales and deep holes of the mountain – stayed put near the subpeaks of the mountain, satisfied and snug at that place, at least for a while. The others, rested, well-preserved, and blooming, continued upward, their eyes searching for the parent pinnacle they believed just around the corner of the mountain.
Around many of the mountains’ corners, the people found a mishmash of trials to vanquish. There was a great deal of truth-telling, honesty, and speaking up; lots of emotional upheaval and repair. There was shedding, shedding of excuses that once sounded rational but were really only self-serving and horrendously limiting. There was the simple shedding of things that never fit in the first place, like the expensive, must-have but never worn Italian leather shoes – 2 sizes too small that hurt coming out of the store, the ones people believed would eventually stretch and someday conform to their feet – to the detaching of people who they thought with a little prodding and coercion would also stretch, match, measure up, and play the necessary games to meet their specific needs and desires. Around the mountain, the people vowed to do more than the minimum, shatter complacency and embrace constructive action, meticulously challenge standards and tradition in pursuit of excellence, and intentionally set and meet goals once believed unattainable. Some got caught up in the intensity of the realities and pledges at these higher elevations and couldn’t make it any further, deciding instead to take a seat where they were, at least for a little while. Others kept hiking along gathering momentum from the less crowded altitudes.
At the next point, fatigue set in. Many on the mountain forgot to breathe through the thrashing that only such a steep and slippery mountain as this could offer; many others fell out of step, lost their hold of might, and slid back to the bottom. On the ground and discouraged, many of the people never looked up again or took another step toward the mountain; others remembered their previous course and quickly regained their footing. Others never lost their grip in the first place, steadily snaking doggedly through the uncertainties, fears, and slumps they faced on that mountain.
Some of those fears included failure and its repercussions; success and its requirements; the vulnerabilities attached to letting others get close; inadequacy and its stagnant nature; and the perceived finality of dying. If the people were ever to reach the top of the mountain, each of their fears must be examined, no matter the magnitude or significance of those apprehensions. This leg of the mountain was the hardest, many gave up at this point. Only a few remained. Those who stayed on course and worked through the pain of chiseling away doubt experienced in return freshness, reconciliation, and atonement with themselves that could only come from forgiving themselves for believing they at any time were small, inadequate, and incapable of moving on this mountain.
After many years – for a trek up a mountain of this size and scale very possibly requires the expedition of a lifetime – the people became stronger, bounding each new obstacle with grace and maturity only afforded by concerted mountain climbing, and getting closer and closer to that sought-after pinnacle. They’ve not all made it there yet, for the heavens are higher for some than others. But with each dig into the mountain, they are closer to it, better for it, and more alive with abundance because of it.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Author Unknown
No, the people who have taken on the mountain have climbed to its peak step by step and slope by slope.
At the foot of the mountain, the people found themselves stuck in the weighty dust of desolation and the impenetrable mud of confusion and suffering. The air there was murky and cast a shadow of fear and isolation upon those ground dwellers. Walking in endless circles, digging themselves in deeper, and treading more conflict and disorder onto their shoes and into their lives, they decided there was nowhere to go but up. There had to be something better further up.
They began to climb over the sharp rocks near the base of the mountain, rocks that felt like soul piercings that tore at the very core of who they believed themselves to be. The rocks scratched through the surfaces of facades they’d carried and caused those fronts to bleed, open wide, and swiftly ooze the posturing upon which they were built. Now, some, finding it impossible to live without that public face, slid back down the bumpy mountain, bruising and scarring themselves, and accepting their lot, at least for the time being. The others who’d weathered the loosening of the pretentiousness continued their climb, their load lighter and less indistinct.
As they traveled on, they took many breaks. During those times of rest from strenuous, back-breaking climbing over and between the many obstacles that had taken root and formed boulders in their thinking, they discovered wonderful and empowering essentials about themselves. Things like awesome creativity, a love of nature and all things natural, and a desire to help others and do more than take up space on earth. With each new discovery, the people were able to climb further up the mountain. Some, stuck on amassing only a little knowledge – for acquiring a lot required regular climbs into the vales and deep holes of the mountain – stayed put near the subpeaks of the mountain, satisfied and snug at that place, at least for a while. The others, rested, well-preserved, and blooming, continued upward, their eyes searching for the parent pinnacle they believed just around the corner of the mountain.
Around many of the mountains’ corners, the people found a mishmash of trials to vanquish. There was a great deal of truth-telling, honesty, and speaking up; lots of emotional upheaval and repair. There was shedding, shedding of excuses that once sounded rational but were really only self-serving and horrendously limiting. There was the simple shedding of things that never fit in the first place, like the expensive, must-have but never worn Italian leather shoes – 2 sizes too small that hurt coming out of the store, the ones people believed would eventually stretch and someday conform to their feet – to the detaching of people who they thought with a little prodding and coercion would also stretch, match, measure up, and play the necessary games to meet their specific needs and desires. Around the mountain, the people vowed to do more than the minimum, shatter complacency and embrace constructive action, meticulously challenge standards and tradition in pursuit of excellence, and intentionally set and meet goals once believed unattainable. Some got caught up in the intensity of the realities and pledges at these higher elevations and couldn’t make it any further, deciding instead to take a seat where they were, at least for a little while. Others kept hiking along gathering momentum from the less crowded altitudes.
At the next point, fatigue set in. Many on the mountain forgot to breathe through the thrashing that only such a steep and slippery mountain as this could offer; many others fell out of step, lost their hold of might, and slid back to the bottom. On the ground and discouraged, many of the people never looked up again or took another step toward the mountain; others remembered their previous course and quickly regained their footing. Others never lost their grip in the first place, steadily snaking doggedly through the uncertainties, fears, and slumps they faced on that mountain.
Some of those fears included failure and its repercussions; success and its requirements; the vulnerabilities attached to letting others get close; inadequacy and its stagnant nature; and the perceived finality of dying. If the people were ever to reach the top of the mountain, each of their fears must be examined, no matter the magnitude or significance of those apprehensions. This leg of the mountain was the hardest, many gave up at this point. Only a few remained. Those who stayed on course and worked through the pain of chiseling away doubt experienced in return freshness, reconciliation, and atonement with themselves that could only come from forgiving themselves for believing they at any time were small, inadequate, and incapable of moving on this mountain.
After many years – for a trek up a mountain of this size and scale very possibly requires the expedition of a lifetime – the people became stronger, bounding each new obstacle with grace and maturity only afforded by concerted mountain climbing, and getting closer and closer to that sought-after pinnacle. They’ve not all made it there yet, for the heavens are higher for some than others. But with each dig into the mountain, they are closer to it, better for it, and more alive with abundance because of it.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 19, 2008
Life is a journey, not a destination... a process, a learning experience. We don’t discover all of life’s answers at once, but over time, through many and varied – and necessary – experiences. We will have hundreds of arrivals. And still we will not have reached life’s destination. As long as we are alive, we are in the process of becoming.
-- Susan Taylor
Everyday we are becoming. Through every experience, we are becoming. Wading through the mess, we are becoming. But becoming what, though?
Becoming more cynical because the experiences you had left you unconvinced that the world and its inhabitants are kind and mean well despite their shortcomings? Because of what’s taken place in your life, have you become more pessimistic and skeptical, believing the worst about people and situations until proven wrong, and even then doubting what you see is real? Certainly life’s multitude of journeys can make you cynical; it’s really no wonder so many of us are glum and doubtful about the future. But then, if that’s all you become, what else does that mean you are?
Living your life with distrust, skepticism, or even caution means you’re missing out on some other stuff. Perhaps you’re missing opportunities that help widen your outlook and accept each day with the potential it comes with. If you’ve become a doubting Thomas with a sharp tongue and sarcastic disposition, you’ve probably robbed yourself of opportunities to have real friends and close relationships because nobody wants to share space with a sourpuss or stick in the mud. And, chances are, if you’re a strict cynic, your body aches, your frown lines are deep, and the only light you get is that of the 60-watt bulb in the table lamp by the couch you are wedged to. What you’ve essentially become is a person whose doubt has built a cage or shell over them; one who can’t even feel the next step of the journey; and one who’s become so hard that nothing, not even air, can penetrate that shield. You’ve become stuck with no elbow room to receive anything fresh or gratifying, and everything that does come your way is more of the same and you’re being suffocated to death by your bitterness.
But that’s just one leg of your journey, just one place on your path, and not a place you have to stay attached to. If you choose, you can change and then begin to move toward a place that makes you more receptive, less tense, more inspired, and much gentler with yourself and the others around you. Of course this change from cynical to hopeful is a process that does not and cannot happen overnight. It’ll take staying attuned to who you’ve become and taking every chance to make dents in the shell that covers you. It’ll take patience, determination, and reliably conscious scraping of the tough calluses that have situated themselves subterraneously below the shell that fight tooth and nail to be smoothed. Changing your viewpoint from dark to light will take faith that wherever you arrive next will be a place of liberation and acceptance and that who you become in this process will get you even closer to who God said you were – a new and righteous creature who is heir to the throne and “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” (Ephesians 1:13). What greater place can you think of arriving? Who better to become?
If we choose, we’re becoming better than we were before no matter what the steps look like or how we’re feeling while we’re taking them. And if we think of our journey as a process of arrivals at becoming better, then none of it is actually that bad nor will it hurt you any longer.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Susan Taylor
Everyday we are becoming. Through every experience, we are becoming. Wading through the mess, we are becoming. But becoming what, though?
Becoming more cynical because the experiences you had left you unconvinced that the world and its inhabitants are kind and mean well despite their shortcomings? Because of what’s taken place in your life, have you become more pessimistic and skeptical, believing the worst about people and situations until proven wrong, and even then doubting what you see is real? Certainly life’s multitude of journeys can make you cynical; it’s really no wonder so many of us are glum and doubtful about the future. But then, if that’s all you become, what else does that mean you are?
Living your life with distrust, skepticism, or even caution means you’re missing out on some other stuff. Perhaps you’re missing opportunities that help widen your outlook and accept each day with the potential it comes with. If you’ve become a doubting Thomas with a sharp tongue and sarcastic disposition, you’ve probably robbed yourself of opportunities to have real friends and close relationships because nobody wants to share space with a sourpuss or stick in the mud. And, chances are, if you’re a strict cynic, your body aches, your frown lines are deep, and the only light you get is that of the 60-watt bulb in the table lamp by the couch you are wedged to. What you’ve essentially become is a person whose doubt has built a cage or shell over them; one who can’t even feel the next step of the journey; and one who’s become so hard that nothing, not even air, can penetrate that shield. You’ve become stuck with no elbow room to receive anything fresh or gratifying, and everything that does come your way is more of the same and you’re being suffocated to death by your bitterness.
But that’s just one leg of your journey, just one place on your path, and not a place you have to stay attached to. If you choose, you can change and then begin to move toward a place that makes you more receptive, less tense, more inspired, and much gentler with yourself and the others around you. Of course this change from cynical to hopeful is a process that does not and cannot happen overnight. It’ll take staying attuned to who you’ve become and taking every chance to make dents in the shell that covers you. It’ll take patience, determination, and reliably conscious scraping of the tough calluses that have situated themselves subterraneously below the shell that fight tooth and nail to be smoothed. Changing your viewpoint from dark to light will take faith that wherever you arrive next will be a place of liberation and acceptance and that who you become in this process will get you even closer to who God said you were – a new and righteous creature who is heir to the throne and “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” (Ephesians 1:13). What greater place can you think of arriving? Who better to become?
If we choose, we’re becoming better than we were before no matter what the steps look like or how we’re feeling while we’re taking them. And if we think of our journey as a process of arrivals at becoming better, then none of it is actually that bad nor will it hurt you any longer.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 18, 2008
There is more in us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps, for the rest of our lives, we will be unwilling to settle for less.
--- Kurt Hahn
It’s like a hole inside, a gully, or groove. A hunger you can’t appease or an itch you can’t scratch. Something, some thing is missing. It’s untouchable. Unanswered. Unreachable. Out of sight. Presumably unrecoverable. Missing. And not even the right career, right fortune, right honey, or right fame can replace this thing that’s missing.
For the very life of you, you can’t put your finger on what the thing is or how to get at it.
Perhaps the thing was taken from you long ago before it had a chance to develop, and, somehow, there are remnants or torn tentacles left dangling inside and you can feel their disjointedness crying out to be reconnected. Perhaps the thing that has yet to be answered is buried so deep inside that its rising to the surface will take every matter and muscle you can gather. Perhaps you haven’t found the strength, gumption, support, or personal regard to uncover the thing. Nonetheless, that thing is missing and the feeling of emptiness won’t go away.
Maybe some psychologist has defined it. Perhaps there have been books written and studies conducted about the very thing you’re looking for. Maybe there’s a cure for it or medication so you won’t want the thing so much and you can just go about your everyday not even thinking about the hole that’s left unfilled.
But maybe the thing that you can’t seem to get fulfilled is the thing that causes one to live fearlessly, to exist outside a prescribed box, or to face obstacles bigger than life. Maybe the thing that you’re missing is what gives life it’s fullness and certainty, the thing that is better than anything you’ve ever done, heard, felt, tasted, seen, or needed.
And perhaps without a correct name or identification of the thing, we haphazardly search in vain for what we believe will fill us up. Perhaps we search our entire lives then, upon tiring, we settle for not fully getting it and simply take what only comes close. Or, perhaps we search for it, get close to it, never quite touch it, get discouraged or disappointed then hide, shut down, turn, or run away.
Or, maybe you know without discovery of the thing, you can’t be completely satisfied, and in order to have anything fulfilling in your life, you have to live just above the thing’s surface. And you know you can never stop to acknowledge the enormity and magnitude of the thing that’s missing for fear that its inability to be quenched will leave you with very little to sustain and hold you.
Maybe the thing is unconditional love, self-acceptance, or passion. Maybe it’s perfection. Or peace, happiness, safety, or security. Maybe it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love that supersedes any love you’ve ever known.
Maybe you are so detached from your center that you only think you’re missing something.
Then again, maybe you really are.
Maybe the thing is only touched by Jesus who goes with us every step of our way and the reason our empty space isn’t filled is because we look to any thing but Jesus to fill it. Maybe Jesus already filled it and because we don’t know His true fullness, we’ve missed it and we’re looking for some thing altogether different.
Maybe you’ll find it if you retreat in the mountains or get quiet at the top of a hill. Maybe you’ll identify the thing by meditating or listening to your chakras. Maybe the thing never gets touched in this life and each time – or with each life – we’ll get closer and closer to the thing. Perhaps if you believe in an afterlife, there’s hope in this particular thought. If not, maybe you just settle for getting close.
Sadiqqa © 2008
--- Kurt Hahn
It’s like a hole inside, a gully, or groove. A hunger you can’t appease or an itch you can’t scratch. Something, some thing is missing. It’s untouchable. Unanswered. Unreachable. Out of sight. Presumably unrecoverable. Missing. And not even the right career, right fortune, right honey, or right fame can replace this thing that’s missing.
For the very life of you, you can’t put your finger on what the thing is or how to get at it.
Perhaps the thing was taken from you long ago before it had a chance to develop, and, somehow, there are remnants or torn tentacles left dangling inside and you can feel their disjointedness crying out to be reconnected. Perhaps the thing that has yet to be answered is buried so deep inside that its rising to the surface will take every matter and muscle you can gather. Perhaps you haven’t found the strength, gumption, support, or personal regard to uncover the thing. Nonetheless, that thing is missing and the feeling of emptiness won’t go away.
Maybe some psychologist has defined it. Perhaps there have been books written and studies conducted about the very thing you’re looking for. Maybe there’s a cure for it or medication so you won’t want the thing so much and you can just go about your everyday not even thinking about the hole that’s left unfilled.
But maybe the thing that you can’t seem to get fulfilled is the thing that causes one to live fearlessly, to exist outside a prescribed box, or to face obstacles bigger than life. Maybe the thing that you’re missing is what gives life it’s fullness and certainty, the thing that is better than anything you’ve ever done, heard, felt, tasted, seen, or needed.
And perhaps without a correct name or identification of the thing, we haphazardly search in vain for what we believe will fill us up. Perhaps we search our entire lives then, upon tiring, we settle for not fully getting it and simply take what only comes close. Or, perhaps we search for it, get close to it, never quite touch it, get discouraged or disappointed then hide, shut down, turn, or run away.
Or, maybe you know without discovery of the thing, you can’t be completely satisfied, and in order to have anything fulfilling in your life, you have to live just above the thing’s surface. And you know you can never stop to acknowledge the enormity and magnitude of the thing that’s missing for fear that its inability to be quenched will leave you with very little to sustain and hold you.
Maybe the thing is unconditional love, self-acceptance, or passion. Maybe it’s perfection. Or peace, happiness, safety, or security. Maybe it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love that supersedes any love you’ve ever known.
Maybe you are so detached from your center that you only think you’re missing something.
Then again, maybe you really are.
Maybe the thing is only touched by Jesus who goes with us every step of our way and the reason our empty space isn’t filled is because we look to any thing but Jesus to fill it. Maybe Jesus already filled it and because we don’t know His true fullness, we’ve missed it and we’re looking for some thing altogether different.
Maybe you’ll find it if you retreat in the mountains or get quiet at the top of a hill. Maybe you’ll identify the thing by meditating or listening to your chakras. Maybe the thing never gets touched in this life and each time – or with each life – we’ll get closer and closer to the thing. Perhaps if you believe in an afterlife, there’s hope in this particular thought. If not, maybe you just settle for getting close.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 16, 2008
If our children are to approve of themselves, they must see that we approve of ourselves. If we persist in self-disrespect and then ask our children to respect themselves, it is as if we break all their bones and then insist that they win Olympic gold medals for the hundred-yard dash.
-- Maya Angelou, Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now
You are being watched. Every step you make is observed. Every word you say is noted. The way you treat others is stored for future reference, and the way you treat yourself is being registered inside the annals of a kid’s mind. Exactly what are you showing them?
Are you showing our children how to be the best steward of the lives they’ve been given by caring for your body, mind, and all the accoutrements around you that help to sustain your life? Do you eat a healthy breakfast and the right portions and servings? Do you exercise, drink water, and get fresh air? Do you stretch your mind to keep it in tip-top shape? Do you rest? Can you laugh at yourself and have fun by yourself? Do you cultivate healthy and long-lasting friendships? Are you able to give love and get love unconditionally and without manipulation? Is your home clean and free of clutter? Is your job interesting, challenging, and worth getting up for in the morning? Do you spend your money wisely, save for a rainy day, and pay your bills without falter?
Or, on the other hand, is the only way you watch your weight through a mirror? Do the foods you eat not resemble anything on the USDA food pyramid? Does your physical activity level only involve walking to the refrigerator then back to the couch?
Do you screen your phone calls and only answer if it’s not the bill collector, your family, or the job? Do you step over clothes and papers just to get to your bed? When you open your front door, does the smell of old trash knock you back out of the door?
Are you yelling and screaming every time you open your mouth? Are the words offensive and hateful when they fall from your lips? And when you do open your mouth, is the smell that comes forth foul and oppressive?
How’s your overall health? Are you getting regular check-ups? Are you taking your medication as prescribed? Do you smoke? Drink heavily? Practice unsafe sex? Do you even wear your seatbealt? Or, are you one of those who believe, “you’ve got to die from something?”
Now, mind you, each of us is guilty of something above; we’re not perfect. But are you able to check yourself, pull your reins, and clean up your act – all while allowing your children to see you do so? They know you’re not perfect – they watch you eat a bag of chips and can of dip then lie down on the couch for a nap. But they also need to see you make it right by watching you drink some water and do a few sit-ups.
Children are impressionable. They watch the way we live; they live through us. Our responsibility is to show them how to live the lives God gave us in the most responsible way. When we love, respect, and care for ourselves without reserve, we are a model for our children who learn to properly love, respect, and care for themselves. And when they know love and respect for themselves, you can believe they will do their best to create, advance, and improve all the things of this world.
Our babies are taking notes, putting on the garb, and practicing what they see. Prayerfully you’re providing a good lesson.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Maya Angelou, Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now
You are being watched. Every step you make is observed. Every word you say is noted. The way you treat others is stored for future reference, and the way you treat yourself is being registered inside the annals of a kid’s mind. Exactly what are you showing them?
Are you showing our children how to be the best steward of the lives they’ve been given by caring for your body, mind, and all the accoutrements around you that help to sustain your life? Do you eat a healthy breakfast and the right portions and servings? Do you exercise, drink water, and get fresh air? Do you stretch your mind to keep it in tip-top shape? Do you rest? Can you laugh at yourself and have fun by yourself? Do you cultivate healthy and long-lasting friendships? Are you able to give love and get love unconditionally and without manipulation? Is your home clean and free of clutter? Is your job interesting, challenging, and worth getting up for in the morning? Do you spend your money wisely, save for a rainy day, and pay your bills without falter?
Or, on the other hand, is the only way you watch your weight through a mirror? Do the foods you eat not resemble anything on the USDA food pyramid? Does your physical activity level only involve walking to the refrigerator then back to the couch?
Do you screen your phone calls and only answer if it’s not the bill collector, your family, or the job? Do you step over clothes and papers just to get to your bed? When you open your front door, does the smell of old trash knock you back out of the door?
Are you yelling and screaming every time you open your mouth? Are the words offensive and hateful when they fall from your lips? And when you do open your mouth, is the smell that comes forth foul and oppressive?
How’s your overall health? Are you getting regular check-ups? Are you taking your medication as prescribed? Do you smoke? Drink heavily? Practice unsafe sex? Do you even wear your seatbealt? Or, are you one of those who believe, “you’ve got to die from something?”
Now, mind you, each of us is guilty of something above; we’re not perfect. But are you able to check yourself, pull your reins, and clean up your act – all while allowing your children to see you do so? They know you’re not perfect – they watch you eat a bag of chips and can of dip then lie down on the couch for a nap. But they also need to see you make it right by watching you drink some water and do a few sit-ups.
Children are impressionable. They watch the way we live; they live through us. Our responsibility is to show them how to live the lives God gave us in the most responsible way. When we love, respect, and care for ourselves without reserve, we are a model for our children who learn to properly love, respect, and care for themselves. And when they know love and respect for themselves, you can believe they will do their best to create, advance, and improve all the things of this world.
Our babies are taking notes, putting on the garb, and practicing what they see. Prayerfully you’re providing a good lesson.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 13, 2008
... what can I give you for the day when you realize you don’t know what you’re doing or where you’re going? A day that will come, as surely as the night follows the day. A day when you lost your way, your light, your joy, and maybe even yourself. A day, in fact, when all you have are questions, not one single answer, and these questions feel like a nest of snakes slithering back and forth through your brain. I give you reassurance.
-- Alice Walker
Reassurance by means of encouragement, encouragement that reminds you that your principle and purpose are larger than what you’re facing. Encouragement that lifts your dispiritedness and unhappiness and replaces them with resolve and an attitude of audacity to continue the path that lays before you. Encouragement that helps you to keep it all in perspective irrespective of the circumstances by which it all comes at you. Encouragement that urges you to keep your brilliant light shining even when those around you want to extinguish it.
Reassurance in the form of support, support that lets you know you’re not by yourself and don’t have to travel this journey by yourself. Support that assures that even when it’s too heavy, too ugly, or just too much, you don’t have to carry it alone nor do you have to figure it out by yourself. Support that allows you to lean on another without fear of rejection, burden, reproach, or betrayal. Support that promises whatever decision you make, you won’t lose this support, that you will still be championed for the exceptional person you are.
Reassurance through comfort, comfort in a hug, a cool drink, a hand to hold, and a shoulder made for your quiet tears and earnest thoughts. Comfort that soothes and eases and provides a balm over what aches to make it more tolerable and solvable. Comfort that strengthens your fortitude for the next leg of the journey, that sustains you as you go through.
Reassurance in the form of hope, hope that things become different, better, manageable, and that when they do, that same hope covers and marks you as you carry on the good fight.
Reassurance via the activation of faith, faith that you are okay and will make it past this situation. Faith that even though today may not be okay and that it may take more than a while for you to see a brighter day, the other side of this mountain is full of reward all because Jesus said if you believed in Him you could have the desires of your heart. Faith that will get you over that mountain because Jesus said your life was not meant for confusion and paid it all so that you could live your life more abundantly.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Alice Walker
Reassurance by means of encouragement, encouragement that reminds you that your principle and purpose are larger than what you’re facing. Encouragement that lifts your dispiritedness and unhappiness and replaces them with resolve and an attitude of audacity to continue the path that lays before you. Encouragement that helps you to keep it all in perspective irrespective of the circumstances by which it all comes at you. Encouragement that urges you to keep your brilliant light shining even when those around you want to extinguish it.
Reassurance in the form of support, support that lets you know you’re not by yourself and don’t have to travel this journey by yourself. Support that assures that even when it’s too heavy, too ugly, or just too much, you don’t have to carry it alone nor do you have to figure it out by yourself. Support that allows you to lean on another without fear of rejection, burden, reproach, or betrayal. Support that promises whatever decision you make, you won’t lose this support, that you will still be championed for the exceptional person you are.
Reassurance through comfort, comfort in a hug, a cool drink, a hand to hold, and a shoulder made for your quiet tears and earnest thoughts. Comfort that soothes and eases and provides a balm over what aches to make it more tolerable and solvable. Comfort that strengthens your fortitude for the next leg of the journey, that sustains you as you go through.
Reassurance in the form of hope, hope that things become different, better, manageable, and that when they do, that same hope covers and marks you as you carry on the good fight.
Reassurance via the activation of faith, faith that you are okay and will make it past this situation. Faith that even though today may not be okay and that it may take more than a while for you to see a brighter day, the other side of this mountain is full of reward all because Jesus said if you believed in Him you could have the desires of your heart. Faith that will get you over that mountain because Jesus said your life was not meant for confusion and paid it all so that you could live your life more abundantly.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 12, 2008
If you are having a bad day, get another one and get it quick!
-- Rissie Harris
The morning started out well. You got up with no hassles. You showered and doused yourself in your favorite body oil; you smell great. You dressed, found a small stain on your shirt but then got it off with a little bleach stick. You poured your Sumatra coffee into your favorite mug only to find that your mug was cracked which caused you to drip a little coffee on your shirt. No problem, the bleach stick is handy. Locking the door, you realize you’ve forgotten your wallet so you turn the lock to go back in and the key breaks. Looking down at the key, you realize you’re wearing one blue shoe and one black shoe. Then, even more suddenly, you notice that the spots on your shirt that you bleached away 15 minutes ago are now burning holes growing larger by the minute! So now the day that started with no aggravation has abruptly turned into a morning destined for hell. Quick! Exchange it for another day!
Well, yeah, you can’t physically throw yourself into another day of the week, but you can revamp the one you’re in now. How? Easy. Think something different, do something different, feel something different.
First, you gotta know, this isn’t the end of the world so don’t approach it as though this is the worst thing ever. Really, none of it is that deep. Stop what you’re doing, take a deep breath so you can clear your thinking and start over.
Sometimes the slightest thing can send our day over the edge. We fret about our clothes, hair, the traffic, something the radio personality said. We trip over what somebody at work said or get caught up on what they did. We complain that it’s too hot and that gas prices are too high. Okay maybe gas prices aren’t a “slight thing,” but what can you do?
You can think about it all differently. The fact that you have clothes, a job, a car to get you where you need to go, and at least a little money to buy the gas that’ll get you there are all blessings. But bigger than that, it’s just not that big of a deal. You have life. You have opportunities. You’re not stuck in one place, and you have more love in your life than you can count on your hands and toes. That’s the big deal.
So you broke the key; call the locksmith. When you get in, change your shirt and your shoes; don’t forget your wallet. Call the office and let them know you’ll be a few minutes late; if you need to, stay a little later. Shake it off, start it over.
It’s up to you to make your day better despite the things that make it ugly. Besides, whose time are you wasting staying in a bad day? Quick! Get a better day!
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Rissie Harris
The morning started out well. You got up with no hassles. You showered and doused yourself in your favorite body oil; you smell great. You dressed, found a small stain on your shirt but then got it off with a little bleach stick. You poured your Sumatra coffee into your favorite mug only to find that your mug was cracked which caused you to drip a little coffee on your shirt. No problem, the bleach stick is handy. Locking the door, you realize you’ve forgotten your wallet so you turn the lock to go back in and the key breaks. Looking down at the key, you realize you’re wearing one blue shoe and one black shoe. Then, even more suddenly, you notice that the spots on your shirt that you bleached away 15 minutes ago are now burning holes growing larger by the minute! So now the day that started with no aggravation has abruptly turned into a morning destined for hell. Quick! Exchange it for another day!
Well, yeah, you can’t physically throw yourself into another day of the week, but you can revamp the one you’re in now. How? Easy. Think something different, do something different, feel something different.
First, you gotta know, this isn’t the end of the world so don’t approach it as though this is the worst thing ever. Really, none of it is that deep. Stop what you’re doing, take a deep breath so you can clear your thinking and start over.
Sometimes the slightest thing can send our day over the edge. We fret about our clothes, hair, the traffic, something the radio personality said. We trip over what somebody at work said or get caught up on what they did. We complain that it’s too hot and that gas prices are too high. Okay maybe gas prices aren’t a “slight thing,” but what can you do?
You can think about it all differently. The fact that you have clothes, a job, a car to get you where you need to go, and at least a little money to buy the gas that’ll get you there are all blessings. But bigger than that, it’s just not that big of a deal. You have life. You have opportunities. You’re not stuck in one place, and you have more love in your life than you can count on your hands and toes. That’s the big deal.
So you broke the key; call the locksmith. When you get in, change your shirt and your shoes; don’t forget your wallet. Call the office and let them know you’ll be a few minutes late; if you need to, stay a little later. Shake it off, start it over.
It’s up to you to make your day better despite the things that make it ugly. Besides, whose time are you wasting staying in a bad day? Quick! Get a better day!
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 11, 2008
... growth demands risk taking.
Linda H. Hollies, A Daughter Survives Incest: A Retrospective Analysis
Gingerly she walked across the long dark stage toward the podium. She’d been contemplating this moment for many years, hashing over whether an opportunity like this would free her of the demons that caused disquiet, doubt, and confusion in her life. And, of what confusion she’d lived! The anxiety that controlled her life was stifling, deadening, particularly abusive. It’s a wonder, she thought, she even found the strength to walk across this stage.
She’d been invited to speak before a symposium of women, hurting women who’d been through everything from genital mutilation to painfully watching their babies being raped repeatedly. As she stood before the waiting eyes – eyes that shone betrayal, pain, anger, and emptiness – she searched her mind for the words, at least the first words to say about her own pain.
“Somebody hurt you. They let you down. And not only did they let you down, they got away with it.”
She saw the shift of shoulders and the nods of heads. She heard a few hisses and a couple of “Fuck hims.” She began to tell her story.
“For me, it was the sitter my mother trusted. The sitter who bound my little hands and legs as she poked and prodded my insides with any object – clean or unclean – she found appealing. The sitter who looked like me in color that held my mother’s kitchen knife to my little neck as she made me perform sex acts on her only meant for two consenting adults. The sitter whose status in life was no different than mine that said to me, a 7 year-old, that if I told anyone, she would deny it, put my name in the street as a hooker, and set my home on fire with my mama in it. The sitter who for 3 years after every episode would fix me a bologna and cheese sandwich then go smoke a cigarette on my front stoop.”
She continued. “Now, I know my situation pales in comparison to some of your life stories. Most of you have been through more than I can ever even imagine. But pain is pain, especially when it takes over your psyche and defines who you become, what you think of yourself, and what you do to yourself as a result. Don’t compare our stories, that’s not the point. Think about our common feelings and frame of mind.
“See, this woman took from my 7 year-old self a sense of innocence that I will never fully understand or ever recapture. At 8, she and my mother darkened my ability to trust as I tried in my young and simple way to throw hint after unsuccessful hint at my mother about what was happening to me only to feel each offensive act sanctioned every time my mother shut the front door on me and my sitter. At 9, I lost my ability to feel deeply or see myself as more than an object as I began to live outside of myself just to breathe and cope with what I could not tell a soul. And finally, at 10, no longer holding on to self-worth, I became the hooker the sitter had pronounced I was. At 10, I began a life of self-abuse and indulgence, and there was not a single thing anyone could do to me or use me for that I could feel. And the sitter got away with it because there was no other life I knew to live.”
She told that crowd of survivors how she’d covered herself in pain killers, illegal drugs, criminal acts, and sex with anyone – male or female. She told the sorrowful onlookers that disease been a regular resident in her body, and that her relationship with her mother and all women had been anything but pleasant and trustworthy. “I don’t even regard any of you as capable of being trusted,” she contended.
“But a flower can’t bloom unless it takes the risk of poking its head above ground. I come to you to tell you my story; to get these feelings out in the air for there’s healing in telling and naming your pain and power taken away from the pain when it’s spoken. I’m in need of reconciliation – with myself and with the others I’ve intentionally hurt and disregarded because I was hurt. I want to grow and live and experience life from a different place, one that is free of emotional bondage, shame, and humiliation. I want to know the real me, the me underneath all this filth and debris. I am exposing myself to you – women who don’t know me, women with histories more disparaging than mine, about a woman who betrayed the blossoming woman in me and stole what I can never get back or reclaim easily. I am blossoming now as I speak because the sitter is no longer getting away with it.
“I’m not sure if I’ve met the goals the symposium sponsors set by speaking to you in this way today; they will probably throw me out of the building when I walk off this stage. But I do know that after many, many years of assuming myself dead, I am a blossoming flower and I’m opening myself up to receive the sunshine. I know that today is about each of you butterflies taking some of my nectar and using it for your own sustenance and restoration. Take all that you can, all that you need, so that I can be refreshed and my experience can be useful. I’m still healing. I have a long way to travel. I’ve risked losing my life, and, with all that I have left within me, I now risk reclaiming it.”
With that, she stepped away from the podium, bowed, left the building, and lived.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Linda H. Hollies, A Daughter Survives Incest: A Retrospective Analysis
Gingerly she walked across the long dark stage toward the podium. She’d been contemplating this moment for many years, hashing over whether an opportunity like this would free her of the demons that caused disquiet, doubt, and confusion in her life. And, of what confusion she’d lived! The anxiety that controlled her life was stifling, deadening, particularly abusive. It’s a wonder, she thought, she even found the strength to walk across this stage.
She’d been invited to speak before a symposium of women, hurting women who’d been through everything from genital mutilation to painfully watching their babies being raped repeatedly. As she stood before the waiting eyes – eyes that shone betrayal, pain, anger, and emptiness – she searched her mind for the words, at least the first words to say about her own pain.
“Somebody hurt you. They let you down. And not only did they let you down, they got away with it.”
She saw the shift of shoulders and the nods of heads. She heard a few hisses and a couple of “Fuck hims.” She began to tell her story.
“For me, it was the sitter my mother trusted. The sitter who bound my little hands and legs as she poked and prodded my insides with any object – clean or unclean – she found appealing. The sitter who looked like me in color that held my mother’s kitchen knife to my little neck as she made me perform sex acts on her only meant for two consenting adults. The sitter whose status in life was no different than mine that said to me, a 7 year-old, that if I told anyone, she would deny it, put my name in the street as a hooker, and set my home on fire with my mama in it. The sitter who for 3 years after every episode would fix me a bologna and cheese sandwich then go smoke a cigarette on my front stoop.”
She continued. “Now, I know my situation pales in comparison to some of your life stories. Most of you have been through more than I can ever even imagine. But pain is pain, especially when it takes over your psyche and defines who you become, what you think of yourself, and what you do to yourself as a result. Don’t compare our stories, that’s not the point. Think about our common feelings and frame of mind.
“See, this woman took from my 7 year-old self a sense of innocence that I will never fully understand or ever recapture. At 8, she and my mother darkened my ability to trust as I tried in my young and simple way to throw hint after unsuccessful hint at my mother about what was happening to me only to feel each offensive act sanctioned every time my mother shut the front door on me and my sitter. At 9, I lost my ability to feel deeply or see myself as more than an object as I began to live outside of myself just to breathe and cope with what I could not tell a soul. And finally, at 10, no longer holding on to self-worth, I became the hooker the sitter had pronounced I was. At 10, I began a life of self-abuse and indulgence, and there was not a single thing anyone could do to me or use me for that I could feel. And the sitter got away with it because there was no other life I knew to live.”
She told that crowd of survivors how she’d covered herself in pain killers, illegal drugs, criminal acts, and sex with anyone – male or female. She told the sorrowful onlookers that disease been a regular resident in her body, and that her relationship with her mother and all women had been anything but pleasant and trustworthy. “I don’t even regard any of you as capable of being trusted,” she contended.
“But a flower can’t bloom unless it takes the risk of poking its head above ground. I come to you to tell you my story; to get these feelings out in the air for there’s healing in telling and naming your pain and power taken away from the pain when it’s spoken. I’m in need of reconciliation – with myself and with the others I’ve intentionally hurt and disregarded because I was hurt. I want to grow and live and experience life from a different place, one that is free of emotional bondage, shame, and humiliation. I want to know the real me, the me underneath all this filth and debris. I am exposing myself to you – women who don’t know me, women with histories more disparaging than mine, about a woman who betrayed the blossoming woman in me and stole what I can never get back or reclaim easily. I am blossoming now as I speak because the sitter is no longer getting away with it.
“I’m not sure if I’ve met the goals the symposium sponsors set by speaking to you in this way today; they will probably throw me out of the building when I walk off this stage. But I do know that after many, many years of assuming myself dead, I am a blossoming flower and I’m opening myself up to receive the sunshine. I know that today is about each of you butterflies taking some of my nectar and using it for your own sustenance and restoration. Take all that you can, all that you need, so that I can be refreshed and my experience can be useful. I’m still healing. I have a long way to travel. I’ve risked losing my life, and, with all that I have left within me, I now risk reclaiming it.”
With that, she stepped away from the podium, bowed, left the building, and lived.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 10, 2008
Too often, we lose sight of life’s simple pleasures. Remember, when someone annoys you, it takes 42 muscles in your face to frown, but it only takes 4 muscles to extend your arm and smack the asshole upside the head.
-- Author Unknown
While violence is in no way promoted here in these pages of thoughtful content, it must be acknowledged that sometimes you just wanna slap the taste out of the mouth of the one who’s annoying you. Sometimes a swift kick in the assets will alleviate the irritation you feel at the person giving you grief and just one good punch in the lip will stop all that nonsense coming from that person’s mouth.
But if you hit, they may hit back. Then you have to defend yourself, just like they just did, and now what do you have? Grown people fighting! And you can guarantee that somebody standing around has a camera phone ready to upload your brawl onto YouTube.
But we’d never do any of that anyway. We’d never hit and kick or slap and punch, right? We’d always take the high road, the high road that says using all that physical energy is a waste of time, especially when you can just cuss them out!
So there you are, passionately spitting all kinds of expletives in the face of the bothersome one, maybe even using a creative and sophisticated diatribe of words and phrases to get your point across. Then, they in turn toss a few choice words your way, and, there again is the YouTuber recording your every word. What’s an angry person to do? Keep it all inside? They say that’ll kill you.
Think about the real energy you’re expending. If you’ve gotten so mad at someone that you’re driven to physical of verbal violence, imagine the physiological happenings in your body and brain. Your heart is beating fast to pump increased oxygen, adrenaline, and sugar into your bloodstream; your breathing increases, blood pressure rises, and your muscles tense. You’re not thinking clearly, your thoughts about others are irrational and only serve to increase your anger. And, you’re frowning. What could you really be doing with all that energy?
You could be doing anything that exacts that same level of intensity – exercising, teaching, swimming, or making passionate love. Any of these activities not only squelches that energy but also distracts you from that fool bothering you. But if you can’t divert your attention from the anger, acknowledge that you’re angry and why you’re really angry, then take deep breaths and count to 10, 20, 50 or 100 to calm down so that you can more effectively deal with the situation. By all means let that nut know you’re angry. Don’t hold it in, that’s the cause of cardiovascular problems and heart attacks. Instead, tell the person that you’re angry, or hurt, disappointed, disrespected, whatever. Just tell it.
Although it’s always tempting to knock out the culprit of your exasperation, holding on to that much anger is self-defeating and destructive. Get it off your mind, walk away, and keep your hands to yourself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Author Unknown
While violence is in no way promoted here in these pages of thoughtful content, it must be acknowledged that sometimes you just wanna slap the taste out of the mouth of the one who’s annoying you. Sometimes a swift kick in the assets will alleviate the irritation you feel at the person giving you grief and just one good punch in the lip will stop all that nonsense coming from that person’s mouth.
But if you hit, they may hit back. Then you have to defend yourself, just like they just did, and now what do you have? Grown people fighting! And you can guarantee that somebody standing around has a camera phone ready to upload your brawl onto YouTube.
But we’d never do any of that anyway. We’d never hit and kick or slap and punch, right? We’d always take the high road, the high road that says using all that physical energy is a waste of time, especially when you can just cuss them out!
So there you are, passionately spitting all kinds of expletives in the face of the bothersome one, maybe even using a creative and sophisticated diatribe of words and phrases to get your point across. Then, they in turn toss a few choice words your way, and, there again is the YouTuber recording your every word. What’s an angry person to do? Keep it all inside? They say that’ll kill you.
Think about the real energy you’re expending. If you’ve gotten so mad at someone that you’re driven to physical of verbal violence, imagine the physiological happenings in your body and brain. Your heart is beating fast to pump increased oxygen, adrenaline, and sugar into your bloodstream; your breathing increases, blood pressure rises, and your muscles tense. You’re not thinking clearly, your thoughts about others are irrational and only serve to increase your anger. And, you’re frowning. What could you really be doing with all that energy?
You could be doing anything that exacts that same level of intensity – exercising, teaching, swimming, or making passionate love. Any of these activities not only squelches that energy but also distracts you from that fool bothering you. But if you can’t divert your attention from the anger, acknowledge that you’re angry and why you’re really angry, then take deep breaths and count to 10, 20, 50 or 100 to calm down so that you can more effectively deal with the situation. By all means let that nut know you’re angry. Don’t hold it in, that’s the cause of cardiovascular problems and heart attacks. Instead, tell the person that you’re angry, or hurt, disappointed, disrespected, whatever. Just tell it.
Although it’s always tempting to knock out the culprit of your exasperation, holding on to that much anger is self-defeating and destructive. Get it off your mind, walk away, and keep your hands to yourself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 9, 2008
I have loved and been loved by others. But it was not the right time. Right man, wrong time: wrong man, right time – until now, that was the story of my life. And now, finally, the right man at the right time. For sure, even with the right person it will be a struggle.
-- Renita J. Weems, Listening for God
When the person of your dreams – the knight in shining armor or the other half of your rib –sweeps into your life, you may feel you’re already walking around heaven in garments of silk and slippers of gold. You feel healthy, whole, and liberated; your outlook is glossy, your future is bright. No task is insurmountable and you are the person God created you to be. When the person you’ve felt breathing your name and singing your spirit’s ancient song finally takes form, everything in your life begins to find order and it all makes sense. “Thank you God! At last it’s right!” you proclaim from the highest mountain.
What a beautiful thing – especially if you can keep all that beauty in the front of you as you begin to deal with the stuff in relationships that’s not always so grand.
See, this magnificently perfect person that has suddenly and blessedly danced into your life comes with a separate mind and sense about life. He or she comes with history and experiences, and, sometimes, your honey comes with overflowing and potentially disruptive baggage that they’ve carried around for years. If you don’t approach and take in hand these certainties with honesty, care, coherency, and intentionality, your beautiful thing could turn ugly and the right person at the right time could slip away.
Needless to say, you and your honey have some differences that on occasion create misunderstandings or uncomfortable moments. You may not see eye-to-eye about a thing, and you may be altogether different in the way you approach finding a solution to the problems you face. In any given situation, you may want to retreat to your familiar and easier to navigate solo space, running back to the comfort of your cocoon and zipping the door shut so that nothing about your honey can even penetrate your casing. But the right honey at the right time won’t let you stay away and will sensitively and patiently unwrap the layers and handle your newness with grace because she needs you for air and you in turn need her for life.
Your honey may be a planner, a strategist, a blueprint follower; the greatest Bonaparte since Bonaparte. But you, on the other hand, shoot at a target by the notion of the moment and the seat of your pants. Honey may hastily spend his last dollar; you, by contrast, may still have your very first dollar. Your honey-love may beat around the bush to make her point; you, instead, are a straight shooter – no ifs, ands, buts, stutters, you knows, or long thoughts to make your point. Now, you and your right time honey can submissively and unconditionally decide to ignore the variances, calling them mere idiosyncrasies not worthy of discussion or examination – in which case, you can’t later heatedly declare the differences in behavior and practice work your nerves since you quietly accepted their existence on the front end. Or, you can lovingly dissect the differences, turning them over this way and that way to look at them and find the common thread or middle ground that helps you reach shared goals. If you and honey-love can work through the distinctions, respect the experiences by which those distinctions were created, and fix your individual Selves for what those differences require of both of you, then you’ve conquered a third of your battle, and the rest of the time can be spent jointly pouring through the baggage that spilled all over the place while you were merging lifestyle differences.
If you’re not careful, all that stuff you’ve been dragging behind you – you know, the stuff you’ve ignored and left unexamined that has ruled your interactions with every single body you’ve come in contact with over the years – can get in the way of your right time. Sometimes your right honey has to wade through so much muck that it becomes difficult for him or her to see what’s ahead and make conscientious decisions about how best to love you. Sometimes getting past the chaos, confusion, and unrest is so much work that it is actually easier to just be your friend, or a passing acquaintance. But if you will deliberately and unashamedly do the work of digging through and throwing away for good what’s been ailing you – no matter how badly it hurts to uncover and contend with, you give yourself and your honey a fair chance at making good love last. And because this is the right time and you truly trust your right honey with you, you don’t have to do the emotional work alone.
Nothing good is ever easy, even the righteous occurrences take work. Nor are good things created and maintained overnight; they must be kneaded and seasoned each day. The point is to do the work and stay present; to ask questions and lovingly receive the answers; to stretch yourself, open wide, and feel. Yeah, that’s work, but it’s worth the struggle just to have the opportunity to love and be loved in the way you’ve waited for your whole life. This is the right time to love wholeheartedly and unreservedly, and this time, the for real time, this is the right person to do that with.
Sadiqqa (c) 2008
-- Renita J. Weems, Listening for God
When the person of your dreams – the knight in shining armor or the other half of your rib –sweeps into your life, you may feel you’re already walking around heaven in garments of silk and slippers of gold. You feel healthy, whole, and liberated; your outlook is glossy, your future is bright. No task is insurmountable and you are the person God created you to be. When the person you’ve felt breathing your name and singing your spirit’s ancient song finally takes form, everything in your life begins to find order and it all makes sense. “Thank you God! At last it’s right!” you proclaim from the highest mountain.
What a beautiful thing – especially if you can keep all that beauty in the front of you as you begin to deal with the stuff in relationships that’s not always so grand.
See, this magnificently perfect person that has suddenly and blessedly danced into your life comes with a separate mind and sense about life. He or she comes with history and experiences, and, sometimes, your honey comes with overflowing and potentially disruptive baggage that they’ve carried around for years. If you don’t approach and take in hand these certainties with honesty, care, coherency, and intentionality, your beautiful thing could turn ugly and the right person at the right time could slip away.
Needless to say, you and your honey have some differences that on occasion create misunderstandings or uncomfortable moments. You may not see eye-to-eye about a thing, and you may be altogether different in the way you approach finding a solution to the problems you face. In any given situation, you may want to retreat to your familiar and easier to navigate solo space, running back to the comfort of your cocoon and zipping the door shut so that nothing about your honey can even penetrate your casing. But the right honey at the right time won’t let you stay away and will sensitively and patiently unwrap the layers and handle your newness with grace because she needs you for air and you in turn need her for life.
Your honey may be a planner, a strategist, a blueprint follower; the greatest Bonaparte since Bonaparte. But you, on the other hand, shoot at a target by the notion of the moment and the seat of your pants. Honey may hastily spend his last dollar; you, by contrast, may still have your very first dollar. Your honey-love may beat around the bush to make her point; you, instead, are a straight shooter – no ifs, ands, buts, stutters, you knows, or long thoughts to make your point. Now, you and your right time honey can submissively and unconditionally decide to ignore the variances, calling them mere idiosyncrasies not worthy of discussion or examination – in which case, you can’t later heatedly declare the differences in behavior and practice work your nerves since you quietly accepted their existence on the front end. Or, you can lovingly dissect the differences, turning them over this way and that way to look at them and find the common thread or middle ground that helps you reach shared goals. If you and honey-love can work through the distinctions, respect the experiences by which those distinctions were created, and fix your individual Selves for what those differences require of both of you, then you’ve conquered a third of your battle, and the rest of the time can be spent jointly pouring through the baggage that spilled all over the place while you were merging lifestyle differences.
If you’re not careful, all that stuff you’ve been dragging behind you – you know, the stuff you’ve ignored and left unexamined that has ruled your interactions with every single body you’ve come in contact with over the years – can get in the way of your right time. Sometimes your right honey has to wade through so much muck that it becomes difficult for him or her to see what’s ahead and make conscientious decisions about how best to love you. Sometimes getting past the chaos, confusion, and unrest is so much work that it is actually easier to just be your friend, or a passing acquaintance. But if you will deliberately and unashamedly do the work of digging through and throwing away for good what’s been ailing you – no matter how badly it hurts to uncover and contend with, you give yourself and your honey a fair chance at making good love last. And because this is the right time and you truly trust your right honey with you, you don’t have to do the emotional work alone.
Nothing good is ever easy, even the righteous occurrences take work. Nor are good things created and maintained overnight; they must be kneaded and seasoned each day. The point is to do the work and stay present; to ask questions and lovingly receive the answers; to stretch yourself, open wide, and feel. Yeah, that’s work, but it’s worth the struggle just to have the opportunity to love and be loved in the way you’ve waited for your whole life. This is the right time to love wholeheartedly and unreservedly, and this time, the for real time, this is the right person to do that with.
Sadiqqa (c) 2008
Jun 4, 2008
I’m not perfect, but I am strong.
-- “Robin” from the movie, “The Best Man”
No matter how hard we try, how long we live, or how much we pray, none of us will ever hit the mark of perfection. We just weren’t created that way.
On any given day – mind you, one of God’s perfect days – you may leave the house sparkling clean, smelling fresh, and looking good. Your skin is clear, your body is toned, and nothing jiggles when you walk – at least nothing that isn’t supposed to. But somewhere there’s a flaw, a defect that keeps you out of the faultless circle. Maybe it’s that though you are radiantly clean and good-looking, you don’t have a damn dime in the bank because you erroneously manage your money in your head instead of on a balance sheet, knowing full well that your calculations are piss-poor because you have a documented learning disability in math computation. Or maybe, though so fresh and so clean, when you open your mouth, nothing of substance, common sense, or lucidity is heard from your lips because you’ve not taken time to invest in expanding your mind or reaching beyond the box you sit in. You simply stay put out of fear that learning something new will cause you to have to work harder and hard work is too much for you to manage given you have that learning disability in getting ahead. So thank God we weren’t created to be perfect, huh?
But God created us in His perfect image, and while we can never be perfect, we can try to get as close to just right as possible. And through our enduring strength, courage, tenacity, and integrity – minus the habitual excuses – each day, we’ll get closer and closer to that mark. That is the expectation.
At least some of us have strength and sense enough to know that we’re not perfect; you know you’re assets ain’t right. Some of us even have strength and sense enough to know what would make us perfect; you know you can’t talk worth a quarter, so you keep a thesaurus in your back pocket at all times and pull it out even if it makes you look slow. And, when it comes down to it, it’s the strength of strength and sense that makes reaching for perfection all the more worthwhile. You get better while you’re trying.
That’s why people go back to school or take up a new hobby – it keeps the brain stimulated. You may not learn everything about a subject or become the best crocheter, golfer, or potter, but your brain is expanding, the circuits and connections in your head are rearranging and, in some cases, repairing their pathways with each new thing you try and each old thing you do away with. This brain expansion – or rewiring, if you will – is what pushes us toward perfection. Think about everything you’ve learned and experienced during the stretching toward the mark. You’re getting better! Stronger!
So, possibly the reward is in realizing and exercising your strength. If that’s the case, then, who wants to be perfect anyway? Thank God we weren’t created perfect. We’d miss the journey to stronger.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- “Robin” from the movie, “The Best Man”
No matter how hard we try, how long we live, or how much we pray, none of us will ever hit the mark of perfection. We just weren’t created that way.
On any given day – mind you, one of God’s perfect days – you may leave the house sparkling clean, smelling fresh, and looking good. Your skin is clear, your body is toned, and nothing jiggles when you walk – at least nothing that isn’t supposed to. But somewhere there’s a flaw, a defect that keeps you out of the faultless circle. Maybe it’s that though you are radiantly clean and good-looking, you don’t have a damn dime in the bank because you erroneously manage your money in your head instead of on a balance sheet, knowing full well that your calculations are piss-poor because you have a documented learning disability in math computation. Or maybe, though so fresh and so clean, when you open your mouth, nothing of substance, common sense, or lucidity is heard from your lips because you’ve not taken time to invest in expanding your mind or reaching beyond the box you sit in. You simply stay put out of fear that learning something new will cause you to have to work harder and hard work is too much for you to manage given you have that learning disability in getting ahead. So thank God we weren’t created to be perfect, huh?
But God created us in His perfect image, and while we can never be perfect, we can try to get as close to just right as possible. And through our enduring strength, courage, tenacity, and integrity – minus the habitual excuses – each day, we’ll get closer and closer to that mark. That is the expectation.
At least some of us have strength and sense enough to know that we’re not perfect; you know you’re assets ain’t right. Some of us even have strength and sense enough to know what would make us perfect; you know you can’t talk worth a quarter, so you keep a thesaurus in your back pocket at all times and pull it out even if it makes you look slow. And, when it comes down to it, it’s the strength of strength and sense that makes reaching for perfection all the more worthwhile. You get better while you’re trying.
That’s why people go back to school or take up a new hobby – it keeps the brain stimulated. You may not learn everything about a subject or become the best crocheter, golfer, or potter, but your brain is expanding, the circuits and connections in your head are rearranging and, in some cases, repairing their pathways with each new thing you try and each old thing you do away with. This brain expansion – or rewiring, if you will – is what pushes us toward perfection. Think about everything you’ve learned and experienced during the stretching toward the mark. You’re getting better! Stronger!
So, possibly the reward is in realizing and exercising your strength. If that’s the case, then, who wants to be perfect anyway? Thank God we weren’t created perfect. We’d miss the journey to stronger.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 3, 2008
I met God in the morning when my day was at its best and His presence came like sunrise, like a glory in my breast. All day long the presence lingered, all day long God stayed with me and we sailed in perfect calmness on a very troubled sea. So I think I know the secret learned from many a troubled way: you must seek God in the morning, if you want Him through the day.
-- Cardinal Ralph S. Cushman
They say that between the hours of 3:00 and 5:00am, everything in the universe is right and at peace. They say that those quiet hours are consecrated and entrancing, that God is breathing air over all His creation and touching each of us in the places we need Him. They say that if you seek God during these very precious hours of the early morning, He lovingly seeps through you, filling every cell and tissue with needed oxygen and nutrients, pouring healing into every cleft and crevice left exposed from the previous day, and recalibrating your center so that you are full of His light. Seeking the divine presence of God at 3:00am provides the jolt necessary for the next 24 hours.
However, if you’re like most of us, at 3:00am you’re sleeping... hard, and nothing but the screech of the alarm will wake you. And on some days, even the alarm becomes a part of your dreams – is that the fire alarm going off in the 160-story building I just jumped from, or is that the hoot of the owl that caught me in mid-air and now we’re flying over the flaming Pacific headed toward 160 Owl Island?
But if you could somehow take advantage of this hallowed time, perhaps asking God to wake you at 3:00am so that you can spend quiet time with Him, soliciting His wake-up call before you go to bed, just maybe at 3:00am you will hear His call.
Maybe it’ll be a bird chirping near your window who, not so long before you, received her call to convene with the Master. Or maybe it’s a dog softly howling because it feels the sweet spirit of the One who comes to soothe and still. Perhaps it’ll be a bump in the night, like a book falling from a shelf, a book whose pages have held something for you to reflect on. Or, maybe your partner will breathe or shift differently, enough so that you hear the voice that says, “I’m here.”
However you are awakened to delight in those sacred hours, the blessings, power, and encouragement you receive will clothe you for the rest of your day. And who knows, you’ll probably have enough for the others of us who rode the owl on into the Pacific.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- Cardinal Ralph S. Cushman
They say that between the hours of 3:00 and 5:00am, everything in the universe is right and at peace. They say that those quiet hours are consecrated and entrancing, that God is breathing air over all His creation and touching each of us in the places we need Him. They say that if you seek God during these very precious hours of the early morning, He lovingly seeps through you, filling every cell and tissue with needed oxygen and nutrients, pouring healing into every cleft and crevice left exposed from the previous day, and recalibrating your center so that you are full of His light. Seeking the divine presence of God at 3:00am provides the jolt necessary for the next 24 hours.
However, if you’re like most of us, at 3:00am you’re sleeping... hard, and nothing but the screech of the alarm will wake you. And on some days, even the alarm becomes a part of your dreams – is that the fire alarm going off in the 160-story building I just jumped from, or is that the hoot of the owl that caught me in mid-air and now we’re flying over the flaming Pacific headed toward 160 Owl Island?
But if you could somehow take advantage of this hallowed time, perhaps asking God to wake you at 3:00am so that you can spend quiet time with Him, soliciting His wake-up call before you go to bed, just maybe at 3:00am you will hear His call.
Maybe it’ll be a bird chirping near your window who, not so long before you, received her call to convene with the Master. Or maybe it’s a dog softly howling because it feels the sweet spirit of the One who comes to soothe and still. Perhaps it’ll be a bump in the night, like a book falling from a shelf, a book whose pages have held something for you to reflect on. Or, maybe your partner will breathe or shift differently, enough so that you hear the voice that says, “I’m here.”
However you are awakened to delight in those sacred hours, the blessings, power, and encouragement you receive will clothe you for the rest of your day. And who knows, you’ll probably have enough for the others of us who rode the owl on into the Pacific.
Sadiqqa © 2008
Jun 2, 2008
There are moments when even the strongest woman can appreciate the reinforcement of a man who is comfortable with who he is and who can be her anchor in the storms of life. He will be the warm hand touching the small of her back, giving her the stability to go forward. He will give her the feeling of uncompromising love as she faces the various ages and stages of life. He gives her body release, her mind a melody, and her spirit a gust of wind that makes her able to soar. When the lady has a lover, her eyes sparkle, her smile is bright, and her voice is calm and passionate. With her lover at her side, her heart is peaceful, for she feels secure and can close her eyes and rest her head on his shoulder.
-- T. D. Jakes, The Lady, Her Lover, and Her Lord
Even the most emotionally resilient woman can be moved by a compassionate, responsive, tender, sensual, and adoring man. Even the most exceptional lady, one who is capable of moving mountains with the stroke of her pinkie finger and scaling imposing, formidable buildings in a single bound, can have her breath taken away by a man who knows and tells who he is, Who’s he is, what he has to offer, and actually offers it. Even a bona fide warriorette, adorned in magic girdles, spears and shields, an army of Sister Amazons, and a fantastic sense of Self, can be gentle, float lightly above ground, laugh at her clumsiness, and calmly lose 2 or 3 of her marbles when a man gives her everything and more of what she’s ever imagined she needed.
That is, if she actually lets him.
Sometimes our sense of strength simply won’t allow a man to give what he has or even love us at all. Sometimes this strength – you know, the strength often born of practicality and survival, or that chaotically created from indifference and cynicism, or even strength deliberately erected from the fear of abandonment, failure, and demise – that strength gets in the way of us getting the love we desire and deserve. Even if the man before us is the one we’ve waited our entire life for, “strength” can cause us to miss him because we rear back on our hinds and ballyhoo the glories of that superimposed strength.
Now, certainly strength is a necessary tool for navigating the life we’ve been given. One must have strength of mind, heart, and body in order to stay on the path and negotiate with those who cross our paths. Even strength created for self-preservation is essential when faced with the world as we know it. But when your “strength” causes you to swat the white butterflies that’ve come in search of your sweet innate nectar and thump away the ladybugs who keep away the busy and nasty pests who can tear down your sanctuary, perhaps that sense of strength is futile and needs an overhaul.
So how does one overhaul or abandon years and layers of “strength?” How does an Amazon woman shed her shields and trust a chivalrous warrior king to take her spicy hands and place in them the good stuff he wants to leave there? Is it even possible given all she’s seen and knows?
It’s possible if she realizes the man before her has no desire to depose or, in any way, extinguish her true strength – character that makes her courageous, passionate, and determined; a spiritedness that keeps her dynamic, a bit eccentric, and in love with life’s possibilities; and simplicity that keeps her fresh, open, and receptive – all visible as the layers come off. It’s possible when she realizes he wants nothing more than to make her happy just because she’s beautiful happy. It’s possible to let go of the vain forts of strength when she realizes that in order for him to be who she needs, she must let him be who he is, a man who wants to love her and will go to the threshing floor with her to shed what is no longer necessary so that her thriving of yesterday can become living from now on.
That is, if she actually lets herself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
-- T. D. Jakes, The Lady, Her Lover, and Her Lord
Even the most emotionally resilient woman can be moved by a compassionate, responsive, tender, sensual, and adoring man. Even the most exceptional lady, one who is capable of moving mountains with the stroke of her pinkie finger and scaling imposing, formidable buildings in a single bound, can have her breath taken away by a man who knows and tells who he is, Who’s he is, what he has to offer, and actually offers it. Even a bona fide warriorette, adorned in magic girdles, spears and shields, an army of Sister Amazons, and a fantastic sense of Self, can be gentle, float lightly above ground, laugh at her clumsiness, and calmly lose 2 or 3 of her marbles when a man gives her everything and more of what she’s ever imagined she needed.
That is, if she actually lets him.
Sometimes our sense of strength simply won’t allow a man to give what he has or even love us at all. Sometimes this strength – you know, the strength often born of practicality and survival, or that chaotically created from indifference and cynicism, or even strength deliberately erected from the fear of abandonment, failure, and demise – that strength gets in the way of us getting the love we desire and deserve. Even if the man before us is the one we’ve waited our entire life for, “strength” can cause us to miss him because we rear back on our hinds and ballyhoo the glories of that superimposed strength.
Now, certainly strength is a necessary tool for navigating the life we’ve been given. One must have strength of mind, heart, and body in order to stay on the path and negotiate with those who cross our paths. Even strength created for self-preservation is essential when faced with the world as we know it. But when your “strength” causes you to swat the white butterflies that’ve come in search of your sweet innate nectar and thump away the ladybugs who keep away the busy and nasty pests who can tear down your sanctuary, perhaps that sense of strength is futile and needs an overhaul.
So how does one overhaul or abandon years and layers of “strength?” How does an Amazon woman shed her shields and trust a chivalrous warrior king to take her spicy hands and place in them the good stuff he wants to leave there? Is it even possible given all she’s seen and knows?
It’s possible if she realizes the man before her has no desire to depose or, in any way, extinguish her true strength – character that makes her courageous, passionate, and determined; a spiritedness that keeps her dynamic, a bit eccentric, and in love with life’s possibilities; and simplicity that keeps her fresh, open, and receptive – all visible as the layers come off. It’s possible when she realizes he wants nothing more than to make her happy just because she’s beautiful happy. It’s possible to let go of the vain forts of strength when she realizes that in order for him to be who she needs, she must let him be who he is, a man who wants to love her and will go to the threshing floor with her to shed what is no longer necessary so that her thriving of yesterday can become living from now on.
That is, if she actually lets herself.
Sadiqqa © 2008
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