I don't want to be profound. I want to be honest, ridiculously, embarrassingly, worthy of ridicule and shame, just honest. I've stumbled and fumbled my way through love until I've come face to face with all of me. Every disturbing facet of me and my longing to be loved back. I can look at myself now and my experiences and feel free, truly free. I've gained a humbling degree of subtle yet simple understanding. Yes, this unintentional wanderer has received the gift of understanding of the things I once stood in judgement of. This is enough and I am so thankful.

Maid For This

Today I am in recovery mode from the stress of my newfound field trip. Tonight is a short reprieve from my toiling reality.  I would like very much to enjoy this weekend and allow myself the luxury of enjoying the gift of my girliness. When I have my hair done it seems as if immediately my spirits begi

n to soar. One day a couple of weeks ago while sitting out on the river on a lazy evening sipping wine I reflected on the pretty paradox that is my life. On one day I am on foot strolling to a bus terminal trying to be on time for my field trip and by that afternoon I'm toasting to my own resilence at a quiet table for one in a cozy little restaurant. My days are spent motivating myself to keep moving, to keep pushing through the sweat, frustration and warped existence that is my life. I talk to myself constantly throughout the day reminding myself that I am where I am for a reason. I tell myself that  I am grateful for the opportunity to rebuild. I indoctrinate myself with a rationale that urges me to believe that my life is beautiful as is. Things are unfolding as they should. I can handle this. I can retain a smile in the midst of my uncertainty. I remind myself that I am made for this. I am made for this. I show up for my field trip each morning with a positive mindset with a goal to spread sunshine until I am faced with my tasks for the day. As I mentioned before my current field trip as a "laundress" has me facing countless sheets and towels daily. Yes, I said "laundress" thats what I read Madame CJ Walker referred to herself as and well, I love the way she's quoted as promoting herself from the laundry room. Thats my goal to promote myself, so anyway I digress. When I receive my tasks for the day my smile seems to fade within to a pathetic "woe is me" frown. I want to cry out to God and ask "what have I done so wrong to deserve this?!?" I believe that I am qualified to do much more than clean hotel linen. Well, with that being said it appears that God must have agreed wholeheartedly because my realm of responsibility increased nearly overnight! I have recently been crosstrained in...housekeeping! The bottom has officially fallen out on my life. I have unequivocally hit rock bottom when I approached the hotel door, knocked and called out those dreadful words "houekeeping". I ponder to myself, what about this truly disturbs me most? I know that what I do to earn a living does not define me in the least, but what is it that disturbs me so much? When I walk into a room and survey the damage, empty the trash, scrub the tub and toilet, or make the bed I mentally remind myself that I was made for this. I can and will survive. I have survived far worse situtations than playing "Molly Maid" for pay. I am "maid for this". I will cleverly combine the pretty and the not so attractive components of my life. I will clean, scrub and polish my way into understanding the hidden lesson here. The lesson in all of this is hidden in plain sight I just know it. I am being rebuilt from within and it is difficult to go along with the process.  The process is painful at times and often uncertain. I am becoming up close and profoudly personal with the concept of humility. This little boho journey of mine is teaching me that nothing is beneath me nor am I above doing what I once deemed out of character for me.  I was" maid for this". I am tidying up my life, my concept of myself and my relationship with God.  I was "maid" to clear away the clutter in my conscience. I have everything within me to apply forgiveness, love and grace to those hard to get to corners of my heart. Maybe just maybe my life is a cute contradiction. One moment there is within me a lighthearted fondness of my struggle to keep myself optimistic and then there is this desperate plea begging for release from the very sam struggle and my safe return to a cushy desk job. For now I plan to will myself into believing that I was maid for this. My life of transition is not the pristine picture of positivity that I dream of but if I continue with the work of inner housekeeping I am most certain that things will fall into place meticulously.

Treasured Moments

It's that time again. It's been such long while. I wondered if I'd ever experience it again. On a lazy, Sunday afternoon I've finally had the opportunity to savor a treasured moment of peace to decompress mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually.  I did mention that I started a new field trip recently that has been extremely taxing to say the least. My goodness, I have not worked so hard and for so little in so very long. I remind myself of how absolutely thankful I am for the mere opportunity and I choose to not allow my thoughts to wander back to the nine to five. On this fine Sunday afternoon I am finishing this glass of Riesling and sorting out my thoughts, concerns and needs. I am surrendering to the inner torment thats been rumbling beneath the surface of my soul. I am quieting my mind, getting real with some of the things that I have been running away from and acknowledging the issues in my life that need resolution. Have I also mentioned that I am a recovering people pleaser? I still have relapses from time to time where I experience bouts of "shoulds". In my mind I battle with all of the things that I should do or say in my relationships. I tend to work myself into a tizzy from time to time but not today. Today, this very afternoon is a treasured moment.  I am not fighting with myself or the expectations that I have of myself. I am relaxing, turning my brain off or at least turning it down a bit. I am allowing myself space to bless myself. This evening I am reminding myself that all is well. I am releasing my fears, frailties and ongoing flaws into the care of a kind and caring God, at least for today. This is a treasured moment where I realize that all that I am and all that I have is enough. Today I can breathe, inhale this moment and exhale any conditions and expectations.  This afternoon is enough. I've had enough to eat. I've visited with my parents, talked with my son and extended Fathers Day love to my dearest ones. I phoned my father and shared unconditional love with him out of the overflow that my Divine Father has made provisions for.  All thats left is to bathe my mind in uplifting words and phrases that will frame my days ahead. Today has progressed at a slower pace and for this I am thankful.

Squaring Off On Fitted Sheets

So, have I mentioned that I started on a new field trip recently? Well, I have. I am sure you have grown weary of hearing me whine and moan about my silly struggles to regain a sense of self sufficiency so I will not bore you all with my emotional distress. For those of you who aren't up to speed with my bohemian terms for employment just know that when I refer to a "field trip, tour or business audit" thats my optimistic way of describing what the rest of the world refers to as a job or "getting in bed with the establishment". Since returning home after life as I knew it fell apart, I have made diligent attempts at reentering the worker bee society. Well, I believe they were diligent attempts. I revised and revised and revised my resume, changed my cell phone number to reflect a local area code, scanned the help wanted ads, and of course informed anyone that I spoke with that I was back in town looking for a means of employment. I've interviewed and schmoozed, networked and nitpicked my hometown's lack of opportunities. It seemed that I was always too little too late. Some company had just hired someone right before I got wind of an opening. My self esteem rode the rollercoaster of professional accolades and the local workforce's refusal to grant me admittance. It appeared to me that world of work was some exclusive VIP club of which I had been unanimously denied access to. It seems as if I had been blackballed. I've always prided myself with having the gift of "getting in where I fit in". If offered a mere opportunity, a chance, a tiny opening I can and have wiggled into a position and have flourished. I try to recognize professional opportunities of any type and run with them. I count myself as ambitious as the next person, yet I retain a relaxed state of knowing. I know that I have divine favor with all that I come into contact with. I expect people to like me and want to be good to me and  offer all manner of goodness my way. I actually believe with all honesty that if I show up with a positive attitude, an open, receptive spirit to the lesson found in every situation, a willingess to give my absolute best efforts that promotion will come my way.  It is of no consequence to me how or where I begin at any job, I have full confidence that I can transform the lowliest of positions into a fulfilling opportunity. In fact, every job is an opportunity. I try to remind myself of that always. Most recently I had a chance to act on my theory. When visiting with a new angel of a friend, we stopped and chatted with his son for little while at his job and during this little spur of the moment visit my theory was given a unique platform to be tested. As always I mention to pretty much everyone that I was/am seeking stable employment and during this occassion, of course I did the exact same thing outside of a little three star hotel. My friend's son mentioned that they were indeed hiring in the housekeeping department with an apprehensive look on his face. He obviously thought that I certainly wouldn't be interested insuch a position. Inwardly, I agreed with his apprehension. I was not interested in the position. I was interested in some source of income. I did not want a job. I wanted an opportunity. I needed an opportunity. So there it was. I stepped up to the plate and seized the option before me. I have never, ever before worked in the hospitality industry in such a position before. The closest that I had come to anything like it was working in the nutrition services department of a three hundred bed hospital as their secretary and also a brief stint as a hostess in the same departmet. I served dietary trays to elderly patients in the extended care unit. I figured that surely housekeeping would be no big deal, a breeze even. The hotel was a part of a well known chain and was fairly new. I completed the application and brought it back and was surprisingly interiewed on the spot. The manager and I seemed to instantly click. She covered every aspect of the job and kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to do this type of work, seeing as I had zero experience other than cleaning my own home. It is still funny to me how she even appeared to talk me out of it. She pulled out all of the stops to make me brutally aware of what I was getting myself into. She nearly succeeded when she informed me of the near slave wage. I hesitated and still accepted it while reasoning within myself, better a little change than no change at all. The housekeeping manager with this warm personality and around the way smile looked at my application again and then asked "now, why do you want to do this again?" With the most humility and sincerity that I could find within me, I looked her in the eye and plainly responded, "I don't need a job, I just want an opportunity." I meant this then and still mean it now from the bottom of my heart. She hired me on the spot. I was informed that I would work in the laundry department servicing the hotel's linen and sometimes filling in for and helping out with housekeeping duties. Something about what I said must have impressed her because she immediately ushered me to meet the management team and introduced me to the Front Desk Manager, the General Manager and the hotel's owner. This housekeeping manager whom I had never known before a day in my life found favor in me somehow and introduced me as being very overqualified for housekeeping but perfect for potentially another position possibly in one of the hotel's other departments. I was and am still grateful. I remind myself of this daily.  Although I had not worked for such rock bottom wages in years, I was grateful for the mere opportunity to increase my earnings by diplaying my worth by approaching the task at hand with a positive attitude and a strong work ethic, again I thought to myself a little change beats no change at all. That was it, I would ride out this new field trip in the linen department and learn, laugh and love the opportunity for whatever it was worth. My first few days among my fellow new hires was hilarious to say the least. It appeared that I stuck out in my new department, somehow judging from the puzzled faces around me and the question, "are you working in housekeeping?" It was as if I didn't for some reason I didn't belong. My friend's son would pop into the laundry room often during my first two weeks to check on me. I could almost read the expression on his face as I struggled to pull all of those heavy, wet sheets and towels from the industrial strength washers. Mentally, I often wondered if the ladies had a pool going to see how long I would last. I return home daily with tales of toiling away in hell otherwise known as the laundry room. Did I mention how hot this weat shop of a room would get with the three dryers and three washers all going? Again I would read the look of pity and disbelief on my parents' faces, it was the same look that my friend's son had and the very same look that my co workers shared. Were my parents apart of this secret pool to see just how long I would last? That look ignited something in me. There was a small flicker of fight left in me and I was/am determined to show everyone that I could do this. I would do this. I would reveal my inner "Akeem" from Coming To America and encourage myself to make the best out of this new field trip.  I did it and I am doing it. Each morning I arrive with my big goofy smile handing out "good mornings" all around. I am learning to make a bed military style with hopes that I will never have to actually go up on the floors and really clean all of those rooms. Lets just say that I have found a new and stellar respect for the housekeeping profession. The work that these ladies do and the perfection and pace that they accomplish it with astounds me. I am without a doubt tipping and possibly leaving a gift for the housekeeper during my next hotel stay, maybe even a card, flowers and candy. These days I prefer the familiarity and routine of my little world in the laundry room. I am evolving into quite the "fairy godmother of hotel linen". I have learned so much. Never have I stood on my feet for  so long stripping beds, washing, drying and folding sheets and towels. I see sheets and towels in my dreams these days and I can't say how often my fingertips have endured the awful one hundred and seventy-six degree heat of the dryers. I know, I know, I know poor, poor me. The real challenge that I find myself squaring off on these days are the fitted sheets, the bain of my existence. In the wonderful world of linen, king and queen fitted sheets taunt me daily. Folding fitted sheets correctly apparently is a study in hand and eye coordination while doing so in a sauna. One must pull together the four corners neatly and place the sheet on the folding table to create a perfect square and then finally fold said flat sheet meticulously without it bunching up into a heap of puffiness. This single act upon dozens and dozens of fitted sheets sends me clocking out daily in a grossly fatigued and frantic state in desperate pursuit of some combination of vodka. Well, I refuse to give up on myself, this new field trip and whatever may come of it and yes, I won't give up on mastering fitted sheets. I will not be defeated. I've overcome greater things. A sea of endless king and queen fitted sheets will not get the best of me.

Out of The Loop

Lately, I can't say for certain where I've been mentally. My mind has been a bit scattered to say to least. I feel very "out of the loop" and actually thats pretty much the best description of life as I know it right now.  Walking this tightrope of reinvention while becoming reacclimated to life here in my parents' home has been a strange existence. Getting back some semblance of normalcy has been pyscholgically draining. I try to keep things light to ward off depression. Some days I am successful, very successful and some days I fail miserably. There was a two week span where depression prevented me from venturing outside of my room. Thank God I snapped out of it. I could feel myself plummeting into a deep, dark abyss of self pity. I have chosen to cling to my precious faith that things will get better. Since involuntarily parting ways with my car there are moments where those creepy feelings of self doubt come in and I feel so out of control of my own life. When you can't determine a the last minute how you will get from point A to point B your sense of self direction is questioned big time. I want a tiny bit of routine most of all, normalcy is overrated.  I feel most times that  I am neither here nor there, not quite back on feet yet not completely on skid row either. Being in transition seems to be a crash course in living in two worlds. I am flunking the course. There is that world where my dear long time genuine friends live where they are employed wives and mothers moving about their daily lives. I talk with some of them from time to time. We share a few laughs, catch up and I offer my love and most optimistic words. I again choose to keep things light. I do this not out of some level of embarrassment but moreso to shield those who care for me an about me from my life of uncertainty. This bohemian existence of reinvention isn't easily understood by most. So to my friends and some family I remain out of the loop. Dating is not an option at this juncture. I have discovered that I do not fare well with mixing a relationship and my personal priorities. When rebuilding a life romance is stifled. I have found that men have this habit of wanting what they want when they want it.  I have nothing to offer to a relationship right now and this idea just doesn't go over well with most men. I fully commit to preventing myself from loving anyone above the love I can offer myself. This preventative measure is a protective measure also. Most of life often resembles a day of window shopping. I am peering through each display window thinking to myself, "just wait til get my money right." I am such a great cocktail of frustration, faith and optmism.  So again, I stand someplace out of the loop.  I commit to doing the work to get things right from within. I have a few decisions to make that will hopefully guarantee me access back into life again.

Friday Night Rewind

So what does a forty one year old woman who's trying to pull all of the pieces of her life together again do on a Friday night? I laugh to myself at this question because I am coming up with very little indeed. This trying to get my life back on track is interferring with my social tendencies. Normally in my newfound state of having no young children around I would find something to do but this pesky little ordeal of rehabilitating my life has managed to keep me in hermit status. Earlier today after a much needed simple conversation with God I pulled out some music that I had not listened to in quite some time. My gospel music collection in CD form has not grown much over the years so it reflects much of my foundational years in gaining a relationship with God. Everything modern is, well was on my IPOD which as of yesterday was mistakenly erased. Apple products and the Itunes store I abhor you!! Anyway, the music that I found myself listening to all this afternoon and at this very moment brings back such pleasant memories. The sounds of Fred Hammond, Yolanda Adams and early Kirk Franklin all chronicle my coming of age spiritually. I was in my very early twenties with a young son just coming to know and understand the Creator of the Universe for real. I was so young, so honest in my desire to learn and love God, so sincere in teaching my son about Him. Many Friday nights were spent just like tonight at home listening to music that uplifted, encouraged and soothed me. When my son would go to visit his dad those were also some of the loneliest Friday nights. The momentum of the week came to an abrupt end on Friday evenings after returning home, making sure my son's overnight bag was neatly packed and he was ready to leave me for two whole days. By the time his dad had come and whisked him away I was left alone in a suddenly quiet house. There was no video game or Nickelodeon blaring in the background just silence. Before the loneliness overtook me I busied myself with chores. I washed clothes, did dishes, swept and mopped the kitchen, anything to keep me busy. When I could no longer continue to keep moving and the silence tapped me on the shoulder I turned my music on and let the soul stirring lyrics minister to my lonely soul. Alone in that little, empty house I connected to Spirit and poured my heart out. I told God all about my pain, my problems, my fears and my uncertainties. I cried about my inability to face some situation alone. When a bill came due that I had absolutely no idea how I'd cover I mopped and had a little talk with Jesus. Here I am twenty years later and its the same story with a few variances. I am alone on a Friday night and I find myself rewinding the tape back to a familiar time in my life. I made it beyond those interesting years where I matured. I think to myself tonight as Fred Hammond encourages me to "praise Him through the night" that this too shall pass. I may be undergoing yet another midnight hour and if I've learned nothing I've learned that in the midnight hour is when God does His absolute best work.

My Grace Period

This morning a very dear friend ministered to my soul in a way that comforted and challenged me beyond my state of despair. The turmoil that I have been dealing with in reestablishing my life has been difficult to say the least. I woke up this morning in complete discontent. Normally I try to embrace the day with gratitude but this morning the overwhelming feeling of drowning gripped me with a desire to pull the covers back over my head.  I just didn't want to try my hand at this day. I felt as if I had nothing else to offer. All I've wanted was to simply get back on my feet, to become vertical again and retain some semblance of normalcy in my life but this has failed to happen. My friend phoned with a morning greeting and something within me reached for the phone as if reaching for a lifeline of sorts. I tried my best not to sound pathetic. The one thing that I do not like to come across is as a chronic complainer. I shared with him my pain and he shared with me the possibility of viewing the space that I now find myself in as an opportunity to reconnect with Spirit at a greater and deeper level. As he imparted this wisdom to me I listened but the heaviness that blanketed me refused to hear what he was saying. The heaviness constructed a dark wall against all that he was sharing until he mentioned one profound suggestion to me that demolished that wall altogether, "Terrea, you must ask for a grace period." A ray of light broke through in that very moment. This was more than a recommendation but a plea. My friend challenged me to ask God for a grace period.  I whined about my circumstances and questioned what had I done so wrong that invited such difficulties that I was facing. Why were things going so wrong? My dear, dear friend begain to share more with me that I definitely agreed with wholeheartedly.  You see I believe in the law of sowing and reaping or as one of my favorites, Marianne Williamson puts it, the "divine law of compensation". What we put out both in favor of or in fear of we receive back. I realized through this extremely therapeutic conversation with my friend that although I am not denying my error in thinking in my past mistakes, there have still been actions made where the correlating reactions are reverberating in my life even now.  I began to think about the places that I have been and the relationships that I have been in. The people, places and circumstances that I have found myself in and connected to created a gateway for spiritual forces of darkness to gain access to my life.  The torment that I now feel, the overbearing weight of despair and depression that has been weighing on me has come as a result of all that I have been connected to. I've made mistakes and poor choices and I have asked God for forgiveness and direction but I do not think that I have truly given sober thought to the invited visitors that I have allowed into my life spiritually.  My very wise friend suggested that I get beyond the mere idea of asking for forgivenss because I have already done that. He shared that it would be beneficial if I'd also stop thinking about the consequences of the choices I've made. I am obviously experiencing them. This is a fact beyond question. My friend encouraged me to get down on my pretty face, his words not mind and ask God for a "grace period". A grace period? Yes, a grace period. I need a grace period just like in other payment coming due, a grace period is usually granted. He informed me that I need a time of relief and revival so that my strength can be fortified and my resources pulled together in order to face what is ahead.  I am in a weakened and weary state and I need this type of grace I so agree. I am not ignorant of the idea of grace period but never have I looked at it this way before. How I thank God for having my friend call at such time. Just like in any other situation, a foreclosure, a light bill, cell phone bill, car payment, etc there is the date that a payment is due and another date of disconnection, foreclosure or repossession, etc. The time in between those two dates is the grace period. There is a lot that can be done in that grace period. A great deal can be accomplished in a matter of days that may have taken months prior. Yes!! This is exactly what I need, a grace period. I need the darkness to be put at bay for a bit longer. I need enough time to regain the strength necessary to stand under the pressure of the payment due date. I need the storm to be calmed for a moment that I might see clearly. I listened to my friend. I did not pray a pretty prayer. I asked for a grace period and I am believing that He's granted it and during this time I will know what to do and what not to do. In the meantime I am quieting down but not as I had been in these past few weeks where depression held me in its grip daring me to even think about moving an inch. I rarely left my bedroom. Although I experienced glimpses of normalcy, for the most part I never left my bed. I talked with friends ocassionally but the cloak of discouragement still weighed on me. This morning after that conversation I saw a lifeline that I grabbed at with everything left in me. I asked for my grace period and I know that God heard me. He granted this grace a very long time ago.