And so let us love! Please!

And so let us love one another with reckless disregard for our differences! Let us put away our fears and prejudices. Let us put down our gavels and pick up understanding. Let us understand what it’s like to be the other guy. Sounds good doesn’t it?  Let us understand why our external qualities often times breed fear or disgust. Why is this? Is it misplaced anger at the white man who called your Dad a nigger when you were a little boy and that sad and angry memory haunts you to this day? To your mind every white man is a cracker and you hate them all!  Is it because a lil brown boy robbed your mother while she was leaving the grocery store and so because he did that well they are all niggers and thieves? I have the privileged misfortune of sitting in the middle. I have people in my family who are as white as snow who will never be called a nigger and I have people who are of the darkest browns and don’t necessarily trust blonde haired, blue eyed folk who aren’t family. When I was a child my sister dated a man in the N.O.I and he tried to teach me how the white man is the devil. How is this even possible I wondered.  I had traveled back in time through my Grandmas photo album. I remembered my family reunions and this made me sad. Even as a child I simply couldn’t agree with his angry words. I had been loved by those so called devils. They had bought me candy, read me stories and been very kind to me. As an adult looking back on that memory of him I’m reminded that we do not come here with a spirit of hatred. Hatred is taught or birthed by an experience. My unfortunate privilege allows me to be disgusted by both sides. I hate to see my people on television flashing guns and cash. I hate the rap lyrics that glorify drug dealing and womanizing. I hate the disturbing images displayed on shows like Basketball Wives that depict all black women as money hungry, superficial whores. These people are promoting buffoonery and coonery but because they get paid large sums of money to do so our young people (unless you teach them better) will idolize these images. I also hate to see kids like Dylan Roof who hate black people so much that he would go into a church, sit in for bible study and then open fire killing 9 innocent people one of whom was a politician and under normal circumstances that’s called an assassination. I hate to see the images of a white cop slamming a young black girl to the ground then sitting on her. Black people protesting peacefully and in 2015 angry white people shouting to them  “go back to Africa”. Seriously? If people are leaving this country the only ones left will be the Native Americans. Although mentally I sit in the middle physically I am indeed a black woman. I am a proud black woman. I am a sad black woman. I am a scared black woman. When I leave my home which is rare these days I have to wonder what happens now? Will the white man call me a nigger? Will the lil brown boy rob me or will the police officer whose job it is to protect and serve hurt me or do worse? I’ll tell you what happens with this situation. Based on Facebook arguments and peoples words you find yourself having a change of heart. My heart ached and began to feel cold. I watched as people I thought were loving and kind said horrible things and it stung! This heart of mine that was once so full of love for a brief moment had forgotten its true purpose and started to shut down mentally. Yes my heart has a mind of its own. Physically it beats fast because the stress is overwhelming at times. My hearts mind said enough! I can’t do this and if I stop caring nothing or no one can hurt me. *silence* After a few days of sheer anger I lay in bed listening to Liquid Mind. I began to drift on the waves of the music and I thought of myself, who I am and what I believe my purpose to be on this planet. I felt a smile trying to peek through my scowl. I remembered that I do have some control. I remembered that I don’t have to address every snide remark that begs for my attention. I can go right when the world goes left. I can leave ignorant people of all skin tones to their own devices. I can educate myself and others out of love, I can share my personal experiences that have created my frame of mind so that those I care for will understand ME, I can be vigilant, I can stay awake and do so in a way that causes minimal damage to my soul. I can avoid certain media outlets and the conversations that make the ignorant seem wise and shun those from the outside who just want to help. As much as I hate to do so I can cut people off. Cutting people off doesn’t mean you stop loving them you simply love them differently. Your purpose in that love has now changed. Your love will hopefully be an elixir to heal their broken heart. You love them from a distance. Hurt people hurt people! Pain, experiences and other things are passed on in the form of hate and that must stop! So let us begin again. Again and again. Let us start over as many times as it takes.  Let us love one another with reckless disregard while embracing our differences. Let us love one another in spite of our wicked ways. Yours and mine! If God can separate the sinner from the sin who are we? Have a beautiful day beautiful people!

We’ve made a mess of things.

VentingSunshine7

February 15, 2014 another white male has been acquitted for the murder of a black youth. Facebook pages light up with flashes of anger. Approximately 13 days away from the end of black history month so some continued on with positive posts about patriarchs and matriarchs of great accomplishment. One of my favorites comes to me from my girl O’enn. It’s called Brown Girl “Her”story which shines a positive light on women of color that you may not have ever heard about. You see the celebration of black history has been around since 1926. It started off as Negro history week and progressed to a full month. No surprise it’s the shortest month of the year right? I’ve spent many years hearing that quip but this isn’t why the month was chosen. Frederick Douglas and Abe Lincoln were very important in respect to black history and they were both born…

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Praction

No accident that I came to this piece today. He feels a bit distant at the moment but my own blog and one of my best friends buzz words reminded me that God is with me.

VentingSunshine7

Asking God that I be led by my higher self to do what is right even when it feels wrong. I’m learning that beautiful beginnings are born from the ugliest endings. I’m asking God that the person reading this be blessed beyond their own expectation. God is real at all times, not just on Sunday morning, Wednesday evening or when your Gospel music is playing. All seeing, all knowing and yes all powerful. We too being made in his image are powerful by default. With this power I will do all I can at all times to be as helpful as I can to as many people as I can for when we pray hoping to receive it is helpful to have a givers heart. Prayer with action. Praction.

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Random ramblings of a depressed person.

 Thank you God for yet another day of feeling not so great. My game face needs Botox and I simply can’t afford such luxuries besides I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of giving the default answer of “fine” when people ask “how are you?” I’m a lot of things but fine definitely isn’t on the list. Emotionally, physically, and mentally hmmm mental and emotional.  The same? Yes no? Well I’m sinking in all of those areas. I would say I wish you knew how I felt but I love you far too much to do that to you. I don’t want to hurt you. I remember some time ago seeing a commercial that posed the question “where does depression hurt?” Now at the time I myself had never experienced depression and found it to be a very odd question. Hmmm how can depression hurt the body as in body parts? Immediately I disregarded it as something that didn’t apply to me therefore not worth my continuing to ponder the issue. To be honest the woman in the commercial looked a lil sad but she did not look all that bad and at that point I may have shared with her one of the many suggestions that now cause my blood to boil. These include but are not limited to “shake it off” “but you look fine to me” “go do something fun” “find something you like to do and go do that” “go shopping” “you’ll be fine” which trust me I know “you’ll be fine” comes from a place of encouragement, confidence and love but when a person is battling they do not agree with you at all so your words can often feel like a dismissal of a serious problem. If you know someone who deals with depression please avoid the aforementioned phrasing. The best thing to do is say “look I don’t know how you feel” (especially if you have never dealt with this life stealing illness) I’m praying, hoping, wishing the best for you and if there is any way that you feel I can help just let me know. (Only say this if you really mean it) Nothing worse than being sad and cast aside by someone who promised they had your back. That commercial aired many years ago and now that I’m well into my 40’s I’ve gone a few rounds with this thing. It’s odd because I’m always stricken by anxiety symptoms first then I lose a loved one and the residual effect is depression. I once had a Reiki Massage and the practitioner told me she believed that my anxiety feelings come from being connected to the other side. She felt this was why I felt such angst before experiencing a loss. I kind of wrote it off but I went into crisis again in January of 2015 I lost my brother on March 10. I also had a dream a month before about smoke which foretells of one facing an impending calamity. Calamity. Doesn’t quite cut how I feel about his absence. I feel as though my heart is put through a meat grinder every day I wake up. I know this may sound ungrateful. I mean after all I am alive right? What is living when you are so unhappy? What is living when someone so important is no longer here with you? I dream of him almost nightly. Funny thing is that in my dreams he is very strong and he moves about quickly. He is almost like a daredevil. He is built almost like our Dad when he was younger. I’ve decided to take these images of him as a sign from God that my BuhBuh now has a new body. He is now clothed in strength. I often try to make sense of his passing because that’s who I am as a person. I can’t leave things alone and simply accept his departure. It’s making me quite crazy to be honest. I go so far as to try to recreate the events in my dreams with the intention of saving his life,  but I wake up to the same result. He is no longer on the earth. My world has been changed forever. I’m not the type to try to hurt myself but I can honestly say I don’t care to go on. I would be content to sit right here in this same spot and not move a muscle which I have done on many a day with the exception of necessary bodily functions. There are days when I choose between using my strength to go to the restroom rather than try to eat. This type of behavior has led to vitamin deficiencies, hair loss and feeling even worse. How do I stop? How do I get better? Before you ask yes I’ve prayed about it! I have laid prostrate before God. I have laid on my face! I have blown my issues into the grown as was suggested by a person who received the message from God. Oh if it were that easy. Maybe it is? I don’t know anymore.  I try to trust God to do it you know heal me but I’ve been here for some time. I know the lady with the issue of blood had her deal for a looong time and Paul never lost his thorn. God will help me in his own timing it seems. I know I must help!  I’m trying to be positive but it is hard at the current moment. If you are one who battles I pray that you find strength to make it through your storm. I have learned a lot about how our bodies and deficiencies can affect these feelings so please make sure your Vitamin D and Iron are up to par. Make sure you have your thyroid and adrenals checked as well. Also Cortisol plays a big part in emotional health. Mine is through the roof!  There are some really great Facebook groups for adrenal support. I prefer to avoid depression groups. I tend to be a sponge and I don’t need to soak up any more pain than I am already carrying around. One last thing. If you are grieving the loss of a loved one take all the time you need! Don’t let anyone put a timetable on your heart! Cry! Get it out! If you’re mad over the loss then be mad! We have that right! I for some time his my tears. I didn’t want to hurt those around me. Wise people told me I was killing myself and they were right. It has been said that depression is anger turned inward. Express your anger no matter who you offend. Chances are the only one worried about it is you. Have a beautiful day beautiful people! **** Disclaimer I don’t doubt God but I will not pretend or exude a false sense of positivity. As the old saying goes God knows my heart****

We’ve made a mess of things.

February 15, 2014 another white male has been acquitted for the murder of a black youth. Facebook pages light up with flashes of anger. Approximately 13 days away from the end of black history month so some continued on with positive posts about patriarchs and matriarchs of great accomplishment. One of my favorites comes to me from my girl O’enn. It’s called Brown Girl “Her”story which shines a positive light on women of color that you may not have ever heard about. You see the celebration of black history has been around since 1926. It started off as Negro history week and progressed to a full month. No surprise it’s the shortest month of the year right? I’ve spent many years hearing that quip but this isn’t why the month was chosen. Frederick Douglas and Abe Lincoln were very important in respect to black history and they were both born in February. Since February was already a month of celebration for this very reason they kept with tradition. It’s funny how we created the holiday but some still believe some white person somewhere in a position of power GAVE us this month. Okay so yeah a quick lil lesson I digress. In light of the verdict many headed to their Twitter accounts the hashtags #blacklivesmatter and #neverlovedus began to trend. So here’s the thing. Blacks kill blacks every single solitary day. There are no parades for the fallen. No shouts from the community for justice to be served okay okay Nancy Grace does advocate for victims IF their story makes it to her show and she preached last night for a story that did reach her platform, but what about those who don’t? I live in Columbus, Ohio. We were once called Slowlumbus. We were known as a Cowtown if you will, but back in the 80’s I want to say my memory fails me a news station here did a segment called Boomtown. Our skyline was displayed in a graphic and at that time the Leveque Tower was the tallest building. In the graphic the Tower was a barrel of a pistol and the point was that gun violence was taking off. Well life has imitated art and everybody is shooting. I was watching the news one evening some years back and they said a teenage girl had been shot and killed. I went outside and was talking to a lil fella who knew her personally. He was very broken up about it. He went on about how beautiful she was and how nice of a person she was. He just couldn’t understand why she had been shot. I would learn months later she was my little cousin. Again a life was taken, senselessly, untimely and unfairly she was gone. There was no parade, fundraisers or march in her honor. Why? Are not all lives precious? Hers was and thanks to her mother and many others her legacy lives on in celebration. Blacks killing other blacks occurs at an insane rate. And well we teach people how to treat us so crimes against blacks by other races continues at an insane rate. Why is it that only certain murders receive media support? Politics? Humph! If we don’t love and value one another why should anyone else? If we have open season on each other why trip when someone else mows one of us down? Because they aren’t black? Really? Sooo it’s like the I can talk trash about my brother but you can’t thing? Let’s use it in a sentence. I can kill other blacks because I too am black but you can’t because you’re from another race. Yep it’s as dumb as it sounds! Now let’s look at the term black on black crime for what it is often used for. Deflection! Whenever a black person is killed by a person from another race the aforementioned argument surfaces. Why? Charity, love, compassion, respect and any other honorable quality begins at home. This includes white people so the black on black thing needs to be used by black people for black people in an effort to make us be and do better as a people. It should not however be used by white people as an excuse to have open season on young black men! Capiche? Truth is statistically speaking the majority of crimes committed against white people are committed by white people. In fact whenever we would be watching the news when I was a kid you could pretty much gauge the race by the crime. Sad but true. How many murders are swept under the rug while we all focus on what the media feeds us? On July 19, 2005 a young black soldier named Lavena Johnson committed suicide in her tent or did she? She was fully clothed, had bites on her upper body, she had a broken nose and her teeth had been jammed backwards. She suffered lacerations on and had lye poured into her vagina. We had this crime presented to us in spurts but exposure seemed to ramp up in the weeks leading up to verdict in the “Loud music trial” Wagging the dog perhaps. Wake up and put down the kool aid. Understand that all lives are precious and no one has the right to take them away. Get mad over murder regardless of the complexion of the plaintiff or the defendant. Get mad regardless of the circumstances. If a kid is killed while wearing a hoodie, playing loud music, serving her country, standing in the front yard, sitting on the porch if a life is taken senselessly, untimely and unfairly the end will never justify the means. By the way 75 years is a very long time! Let’s not be so technical that we miss the point. Dunn will serve life in prison. As people of color and our history that includes so much pain I know we will always take things personally I just wish we could think more on the level of humanity as a whole not race alone. I will not hold my breath.

Praction

Asking God that I be led by my higher self to do what is right even when it feels wrong. I’m learning that beautiful beginnings are born from the ugliest endings. I’m asking God that the person reading this be blessed beyond their own expectation. God is real at all times, not just on Sunday morning, Wednesday evening or when your Gospel music is playing. All seeing, all knowing and yes all powerful. We too being made in his image are powerful by default. With this power I will do all I can at all times to be as helpful as I can to as many people as I can for when we pray hoping to receive it is helpful to have a givers heart. Prayer with action. Praction.

Raining Peace

Those times when our lives feel chaotic and we are full of anger serve a purpose. A great calm often follows the roughest storms. We notice the thunder, pain, lightning, frustration and stress, but when that calm comes and believe me it will, we must acknowledge it and we must do so with more energy than we gave to the storm because this shows we are truly grateful for our deliverance. Have a beautiful day beautiful people!

The inconsiderate man and the women who “may” be at fault. Meh.

This item was inspired by an early morning trip to the former home of falling prices and smiley faces.  Well these days the prices aren’t falling and the smiley faces have been removed from the bags amongst other changes, but one thing hasn’t changed and that’s the diversity amongst the clientele.  I go to the store as early as possible as I don’t like the smell of dirty diapers, the sight of dirty pajama bottoms or fist fights.  I walked into the store grabbed some items from the produce section and made my way to look for these veggie steamer deals.  I’ve been told by my friends that I do not have a Poker face and it’s true so if I’m lost chances are I will look lost.  I do however have a game face  that doubles as a wall used to shield what I’m thinking or feeling when no one needs to know.  I digress so I’m making my way down the aisle and a man asks ” are you lost?”   Being my fathers child I quickly replied “no I just don’t know where their veggie steamers are, but thank you”.   I continued down the aisle with the intention of grabbing something else and dude begins to follow me.   As I struggle to open the various freezer doors to get a look at the items he just stands there then he hits me with a barrage of questions.  He then stands a few feet away from me  open doors showing me food saying “you should try this” or “this looks good”.   I finally find something I want and being a kind lady I tell him to have a nice day. As I begin to make my exodus he says ” ay uh uh can we talk?”   Again my non poker face must have shown up because he says I can give you my number?   I say go ahead… STOP now this is where I went wrong.   What I should have done was found a polite way to so “no thank you I’m not interested” not Ms Congeniality!   No I say go ahead what is it? All because of this need to be polite when he really didn’t deserve my kindness.  I did not write the number down and in all honesty I never need to as I have an excellent memory.  In this case I never intended on calling him.  I really could have checked him nicely, but I know “Sistas” have gotten a bad rap for being overly assertive and are often mislabeled as angry.  I tend to do all I can to display the opposite.   As I walked away and he stood there looking like a dear caught in the headlights I became angry, but I always have my game face ready to go, but behind that wall all kinds of thoughts were going.   Did he really think I was going to call him?  Humph the nerve of him to offer me his number!   I should have checked him right on the spot!   To be honest that’s one of my gifts you giving people the business and they really feel it but aren’t mad because it was done so tactfully.  Now you might be thinking uh maybe you are an angry woman, but if you paid any attention to what you just read you will remember my making mention of the fact that I was struggling to open the freezer door.   Well the reason for that would be the bag of oranges and bag of apples in my right hand and the bag of bananas in my left hand.   So you see the, smirk, raised eyebrow and shaking of the head as I walked off wasn’t because I felt he was beneath me or even that he was truly bothering me it was the fact that he was trying to make conversation while my bags were slipping and not once did it occur to him to offer me any help.  The raised eyebrow was because well who does that?   Maybe I’m spoiled by the men in my life.   My Daddy, brothers or friends would never do that!   I was so taken aback that I took him back.  All the way back to work with me and thought of him throughout the day.   I wondered if he was as rude as my conditioning portrayed him to be or if he was a product of his own conditioning by the so called independent woman.   Now by definition independent describes one who doesn’t require or rely on anyone else.   Now I don’t know anyone who can honestly say they don’t don’t depend on anyone for anything.  We can be self sufficient all day long, but independent?  Not likely, but the term is thrown around a lot.    It’s usually spewed from the mouth of a somewhat angry woman who has had to do it all by herself.  She may be beautiful, but it’s hard to see.   Her femme fatal was replaced by a wrinkled brow, hands on her hips and twisted lips.  She has been built up and let down one time too many and at this point would prefer to handle things herself in order to make sure they get done.  She feels that most men aren’t about anything but in reality it’s just the men she has chosen.  Maybe she did have a nice guy once and maybe he tried to help and she made him feel so inadequate that he simply gave up trying.  After dealing with enough super independent woman this brother simply became lazy and soon “move here I got it” became “nah I ain’t helpin she got it”   Maybe he didn’t know if I was gonna be cool or come out a bag if he offered to  help me with my bags?  I will never know.  All I can do is wonder.  One thing I do know is that?  I am not an independent woman.   I am self sufficient and not so much so that I don’t need you because I do.  I need you to reach that thing up in the cabinet that’s just out of my reach.  I need you to open this jar, but lemme try it myself first okay?   When you open the jar I will smile inside and out because at that moment you are my hero.  I appreciate you.  So please fellas don’t assume all women are the same.  Some of us ladies want you to open the jar.  We will not snatch it out of your hands to show you we don’t need you.  We will let you open the jar and not because we can’t open it ourselves.  We like the fact that you even care enough to offer.   We take comfort in the possibility that maybe just maybe chivalry isn’t dead. Have a beautiful day beautiful people!

Is your knowledge a weapon, a tool or both? Use it wisely.

Being able to speak on a subject is one thing. Getting others to listen is entirely different. If you are well versed on certain subjects and wish to share that knowledge it should be done with tact. Trying to make people feel stupid will not make you smarter and no one has ever said “I’d like a beating with my lesson please” Passion is never an excuse for rudeness. Have a beautiful day beautiful people!

 

Choices

Make today the day you stop being a doormat. Even to yourself. Falling in line with others we tend to walk all over ourselves. Instead of just handling the external attacks we’ve began to attack ourselves in a sort of if I can’t beat em join em fashion. Or better yet before you insult me I’ll beat you to the punch and shoot my self down. “We” have to stop this! If you know you are truly being the 

best you that you possibly can be then keep on keeping on with confidence. If not well your reading this and I’m typing this so we still have a chance! Have a beautiful day beautiful people!