What Happened When I Took Up Quilting

I am amazed that I survived my most recent attempt to remain self sustaining. At age forty, a pretty appealing forty at that, I still look back and ponder what exactly was I thinking working three jobs nearly around the clock? Yes, it was my brilliant idea to piece together the profits from three different avenues until I found that one that would sustain me. I reasoned that it would be just for a little while. I now believe that desperation was settling in. I was falling behind on my car payments and my rent was due.  Prior to quilting it was not uncommon for me to go back and forth mentally on who would/should get paid, the lienholder on my vehicle or my friend who had opened her home to me as I hastily made that mad dash.  She was uber supportive of my leaving my failing relationship to take refuge at her home and pay half of the living expenses. That settled it. I could not fail her. I must be loyal.  After accumulating multiple jobs to string together until I landed that one perfect place of employment, I resolved to catch up on everything or die trying.  I adopted an overly optimistic train of thought to keep me going.  I paid attention to my speech. I cautioned myself against using words that described my pursuits in a toiling stressful manner.  In fact, rather than referring to them as jobs I preferred to call each job I reported as a "field trip".  I separated myself from the experience as much as possible by envisioning myself as woman simply conducting research. I looked at it this way, I love people so here I had the opportunity to meet and visit with a different set of individuals on a daily basis routinely. No work environment was beneath me. I was thankful for the opportunity to work. I believed that God would bless the work of my hands because my heart was right.  All I wanted was the opportunity. So my daily grind morphed into an adventure in customer service, I would be ever so grateful on each field trip and deliver the absolute best that I had to offer to all I came into contact with.  I would be pleasant, personable and professional but most of all, grateful for each opportunity.  I was determined to be the female version of Akeem from the movie "Coming To America".  Yes, I'm sure that you can tell, I love that movie. I would take my regal air with me and exhale commitment and a diehard perseverance into the commonplace endeavor.  I would work with integrity and attention to detail.  I would not let the grind define me but I would carefully quilt together the revenue from each pursuit,  I would create something beautiful of something exhausting and stressful. I was determined to piece together the scraps and survive by any means necessary. So, field trip number one found me working at a popular nationwide houseware retailer. This pursuit came about as I was visiting the store for one of my therapeutic sessions.  I have a habit of when I am a bit down or depressed I try to find beautiful things to simply be around to lift my spirits. Pretty things and indulgent surroundings sweep me away mentally. So it was that day.  I was longing for the comforts of home as walked through the store amusing myself with plush bath sheets and table settings.  On the way out I decided to ask if the store may need help as the holiday season would soon be approaching.  A lovely woman with the most comforting and entertaining spirit masquerading as a cashier handed me an application.  I completed the form, smiled, returned it and then headed for a reprieve at Starbucks where I planned to strategize on my next move.  I had been completing applications both online and the old fashioned way for some time now.  If I received one more, just one automated response I knew I'd scream. While I sat and sipped on my green tea I received a call to return to the store and meet with one of the managers. I thought this must be a sign because hardly thirty minutes had gone by since I left the store. I said a quick prayer and vowed that if offered the opportunity I would accept it make it work. After a series of meeting with all three of the managers which I found to be strange to say the least.  I was interviewing for a position as a customer service associate not management wow! I was determined to make it work even in the face of the managers' insistence that the job would be no walk in the park, making references to one of my daily requirements, the ability to climb a ten foot ladder and retrieve items for customers. I smiled from the safety of my seat on ground level looking up at all of the various products and simply said "sure, I could handle it." Was I afraid of heights? Before that day, I suppose I never really knew just how afraid of heights I actually was. Again, I was determined to survive and pay all, well maybe not all of my debtors. 

Field trip number two found me continuing on with my contracted position with the school district working with elementary aged children in an after school program.  Being able to continue spending my afternoons with these little people actually gave me something to look forward to, some way to feel as if I was making a difference. I felt more in my element at the school somehow. I can't explain it, but more myself. Actually I was providing the same service to each client, excellent customer relations. One set of clients were adults of course and the other clients were a group of children.  The adults at my first field trip actually proved to be much more difficult to contend with.  The customer base at the store seemed to be comprised of individuals who held what I believed was a strong sense of entitlement. The store catered to this set of clientele with a philosophy that one person at any cashier's station constituted a "line". Often I would leave field trip one headed directly to field trip two tired yet relieved to be dealing with children for the remainder of the evening. At least with my kids many of them had not yet had the benefit of being fully raised as of yet, so the concept of simply common courtesy and decency was not common to them yet. 


Field trip number three evolved by happenstance. Yes, I did say field trip number three. I was in much more of a financial strain and a dilemma didn't quite describe what I was going through so I was in full blown crisis mode. I struggled to remain my cheerful, optimistic and spiritual self in the midst of it all but the weight of my needs were heavy on me. One day while stopping for gas, one of the things I truly detest doing, stopping to pump the gas. I know that the fuel has to find its way into the car but I just hate having to stop to do it. I long for the days of full service stations.  On my way out of this particularly pristine station it occurred to me that they were open 24/7 and only a few feet away from my first field trip.  I decided right then and there I should add this little diddy onto my quilting pattern and see what comes of it.  Did I want to, really? No, but until a fabulous full time position with benefits presented itself I would simply do what I needed to do.  Bohemian at heart I knew that I could learn something from every environment while adding my own unique flavor.  I would be a student of this experience. God would bless the works of my hands until the next door opened for me.  There, I created an opportunity for myself. I walked right in and enlightened the management of that store how they ever made it without someone like me. After an interview with a feisty Phillipino woman who was the area manager, I assumed field trip number three.  I would work from 10:00 pm at night until 6:00 am and head to my next field trip for 8:00 am most mornings.

 

Most of my days my quilting reflected 16 + hour work days. I was exhausted yet encouraged that somehow it would all work out for me. I retained my dignity while setting my pride aside.

Doing It & Doing It & Doing It...The Aftermath

So its been a while since my last update on my bohemian faith journey and my how very much I have learned.  I have discovered that at my absolute best I am quite an attractive mess. I say an attractive mess because externally I believe that I'm holding up pretty well physically. The packaging isn't too frayed but my God am I a mess within. Thank God that the predicaments that I have an uncanny ability to find myself in don't show up on my face. A combination of good genes and trust in God has kept me somewhat aesthetically intact. I am a person with a fierce sense of loyalty and as the year comes to a close and I will take that into account as I conduct my yearly personal audit.  I must find a way to offer that fierce loyalty to myself. Well, so much has transpired that I feel at a loss on exactly where to begin on little update. Lets rewind the tape a bit. During the summer months I had vacated a relationship that I believed simply wasn't working at all.  I exited stage left in grand drama by leaving my then love interest with nothing more than his beloved New Orleans Saints chair in the middle of the room strategically placed in front of the television. For one, leaving the television was the right thing to do I believed because he had been good to me and he loved, loved, loved television, well ESPN. After months of taking two steps forward only to be pushed four steps back I surmised that our relationship simply could not nor would not work because we were two fundamentally different people and the likelihood of either of us changing was slim.  I held onto resentment and bitterness like a pitbull as he held his ground as well.  He was extremely loyal to me as I was to him, yet our love language differed greatly. We basically clashed on how we wanted to live, what I felt was acceptable and what was not.  I was judgmental and prideful. He was relentless in his refusal to bend.  Tenderness was not his strong suit.  He was a phenomenal provider because his heart was a living, pulsating organ whose only function was to cover and care for. He was a man who actually enjoyed caring for others in his own unique way. I wanted for nothing yet desired to be treated compassionately and carefully like the lady that I am. He was not into doing that and was adamant in showing and telling me that "I was not that important" nor would he "place me on a pedestal". My lover simply failed to understand that I did not want to be placed on a pedestal. I wanted the pedestal that I already stood on to be respected.  It was erected with a firm foundation in who God, my Creator designed me to be.  I saw myself as valuable and of pure quality with a sense of self esteem that was/is ironclad intact.  We went round for round. He let me down and I most assuredly agitated him to no end.  I required things of him, expected a certain level of treatment and frowned in disgust at his blatant way of ignoring my hissy fits.  Our moment of no return arrived on Mothers' Day weekend after visiting our respective families in Louisiana.  I fumed at his responses to me that I believed were a ploy to annihilate my sense of self worth and self respect. I truly believed every word and argument was a part in a diabolical plan to break me down mentally so that I could perform and behave like the women he had more than likely become accustomed to dating.  I vowed that I would not be controlled by a man! Our disagreements always ended with my feeling unheard, devalued, discounted and ignored. I believed that he would never make efforts to alter his behavior.  The day after any argument he would without fail get up and prepare for work and kiss me on my forehead as he departed before me leaving a credit card for me. This act always infuriated me because along with the kiss and credit card there was never an apology, one of which I always believed I deserved.  He always went on with his day as if nothing ever happened.  I always found a way to stew over his transgressions, his faults and flaws, his inherent inability to treat me like the fine lady that I was.  Did I mention that he provided for me very well after I relocated with him post lay off? Oh all of that was irrelevant to me as I made my getaway. At the end of a contract position without a new job awaiting me, fueled with 100% anger and bitterness I packed my bags and all of the furniture and fled the scene. The weeks that followed my exodus were a combination of emotions.  I needed some time to come down from all of the adrenaline that came as a result of the non stop arguments.  I worked on regaining a clear mind.  I tried to reestablish some consistency in working out.  I had created a self sabotaging self care regimen.  I medicated the madness with wine that worked grossly against my cute quotient which invariably made me feel worse about myself. Within the relationship I saw myself as the victim, the person being "done wrong" oh so wrong and I focused almost entirely on him, his actions and inactions. Our mini dramas became the topic of nearly every conversation with my girlfriends.  I deserved better I believed yet I was doing very little to attain it. I whined and complained to no avail.  So after moving in with a friend I settled into a new life of struggle and confronting myself, the self that perpetuated problems within my own life. I did return to work and amused myself with the little people I spent my days with until the organization that employed me stressed me to no end. I found myself slipping back into a familiar pattern, winding down with much too much wine. Not good at all. I walked away from that school and job hunted to piece together an existence on my own. Financially I had now taken on a rental obligation that proved to be quite a stretch for me as I attempted to get back on my feet, which I never was quite able to do.  Enter the fall, with a season change I vowed to pull myself together somehow and soar.  I took up what I call "quilting" where I would valiantly piece together jobs to meet all of my expenses.  In my mind I would keep doing it and doing it and doing it until somehow I was right side up again. I was staging a comeback. What I did not know then that in the midst of my comeback a heart cleansing would occur and I would see myself through different eyes. My current situation was not a situation afterall but a classroom that I had stumbled into. Now the time to prove just how teachable I was had come.  Would I stop, look and listen in the aftermath of my mess?

Considering Disability Benefits

Of my many character flaws, and there are oh so many, one of them that I am actively working on is my tendency to be judgemental.  Sometimes even when my opinion has not be solicited I have this phenomenal knack for conveying it anyway.  Coupled with sarcasm I critique things that I have great difficulty understanding such as people who wear their pajamas out in public, the Kardashian epidemic, poverty stricken Caucasians who vote for wealthy elitist Republicans, CeeLo's wardrobe selections, twenty two year olds with an excess of four children and white male arrogance. Those are just a few things that I clearly do not understand but often find myself critiquing. Alas, I am a work in progress.  Rather than attempting to comprehend why some things are the way they are or why some people think or act the way they do I simply must learn to look away. Judging others is a job fit for God alone, clearly He is the only one equipped to judge. Maybe I am not judging others after all and there could be another suitable way to describe my inability to understand the mindset and motivations of others. When I discover what its called I will be sure to inform everyone. Perhaps there are so many others who are also suffering from this disorder.  Hey, maybe it could be called Chronic Failure to Comprehend Foolishness. I'm going with that diagnosis.  Yes that's it I suffer from CFCF. I wonder if I can get a check for that.  It may be labeled a disability in today's culture. My severe inability to understand prevalent foolishness may render me ineffective in navigating successfully in the world. Yes, I should definitely consider applying for disability benefits. If D.L. Hughley attempted to get the Black man on the endangered species list then surely I can apply for disability benefits for my Chronic Failure to Comprehend Foolishness. The least assistance that I believe I should afforded is an interpreter. Possibly an interpreter would be helpful in translating the widespread foolishness to me.

I have been experiencing some difficulty in the work arena lately and I truly believe it may have a lot to do with my CFCF. In an administrative yet academic setting I have the joy of interacting with a diverse group of people.  Both the students and their parents keep me on my toes.  Every afternoon as I have shared previously I spend time with a wonderful group of elementary aged children who are enrolled in an after school program. My evenings typically begin with the beloved front office. By the time I arrive the dismissal process is in full swing and in comes foolishness like with all of the flambouyance and verve of a flaming gay entertainer complete with theme music. Now mind you I love working with people. I enjoy the anti routine consistency that it provides, although many people may come in requesting the same things, different faces, voices and attitudes keeps things quite lively. Redundancy tires me so. I am extremely passionate about helping people and brightening their day while I do so. My CFCF usually flares up when I am assisting at the front desk and a parent who is obviusly off their medication comes in to voice a complaint or make what I consider an insane request. The chief insane request of them of all is to ask me what your child's teacher's name is.  I have been asked this question many times and it still baffles me.  I have been asked this over the phone and in person and I am dumbfounded. My CFCF truly renders me incapcitated in such situations.  In fact in most cases for a very brief moment I am left speechless, temporarily mute.  I know that a response is warranted but my clear confusion at the idiocy of the request has shocked my nervous system.  I am basically stunned, sitting there either holding the phone or staring blankly into the eyes of the unmedicated parent. I am wondering at that moment if it is a trick question.  The parent has to know their child's teacher's name and is just questioning me if I know. Yes, that has to be it, its a trick question. The only thing is the parent is looking at me with expectancy as if I am going to answer them any moment.  My CFCF kicks in the symptoms show up before I can try to hide my condition.  Sarcasm and/or cynism appear without my trying to convey it. Its a natural reaction for a person with Chromic Failure to Comprehend Foolishness.  Its something like tourettes.  You see it is beyond me why a parent does not know their child's teacher's name primarily for two reasons: the Thanksgiving holiday is in all of but one week, how a parent does not know the name of the chief adult that their child has been spending the most time with for over two months is insane and it is an elementary school which means their child should be fairly verbal enough to speak. Can the parent not simply turn to little Johnny and ask him what his teacher's name is? Without my realizing it I always end up conveying that either of those two thoughts to the parent which tends to stir them up.  What these people fail to realize is that I am not well.  I have CFCF. All of my counterparts can answer these strange questions completely unfazed but not me. This really could be a disability.  I am relieved to understand that I may not be overly judgmental after all, I have a disorder that quite possibly with proper treatment and/or therapy I too can thrive in society. Yes, I should really seek help. I am confident that after routine assistance my judgmental demeanor will soften remarkably. The next time a parent asks whether or not Halloween is an official school holiday (meaning the school is closed) so that she will have enough time to straighten her children's hair for a party later that afternoon, I can simply smile and answer "no ma'am school is still open for Halloween" as if that was the most common conversation ever on school grounds. After treatment I will no longer entertain ringing the unmedicated parent alarm and immediately contacting Child Protective Services.

The Evolution

Good morning!! In my blog I tend to share my thoughts about my life, my window into the world with hopes that my tiny personal revelations may also help someone else. I call them musings, meditations and a few rants thrown in from time to time to detail the fine art of allowing oneself to evolve in a f.l.y., funky, faith-filled manner. What does that mean? Pour yourself a cup of coffee & I will be more than delighted to share with you...

Evolving in a f.l.y. manner ("fearlessly and fiercely loving yourself", sometimes I enjoy acronyms) for me is the capacity & willingness to allow yourself to grow & expand in every area of your life from a place that is fearless & fierce. Fearlessly & fiercely loving myself is an ongoing journey. With my newfound football terminology it is a personal play that is defensive & offensive driven. Meditate on those two...fearlessly & fiercely. Loving myself fearlessly is a defensive move for me.  Although it is a struggle sometimes, I must do everything to saturate my life with all things positive. I go on the defense by bringing in all manner of optimism via people I surround myself with, things that I read, the social media I engage in, etc. By doing this, I am "beefing up my defensive line" so to speak. Positivity builds a wall against fear. Fearlessly loving myself is a proactive choice at every intersection of my life. It is a challenge to love or be in love and fear at the same time. In fact, it is downright impossible. I take the offensive approach by fiercely loving myself at all costs. When faced with a choice to love another over myself, I choose me, all day, everyday.  Loving myself fiercely dictates that I place myself on the top of my priority list. That is evolution for someone like me. Oh the ways you can grow when you love yourself with those two f's....

Evolving in a funky manner means that I commit to never, ever again allowing myself to "fake the funk". I dedicate myself to live in, speak & deal in my personal Truth at all times. My funk frees me and fuels me because it is steeped in authenticity. Living from a place of the funky truth is liberating. You see the truth isn't always pretty, clean and fragrant, but it definitely is what it is. There is a sweet solace that comes when you can tell the truth and nothing but the absolute truth to yourself if no one else about how you feel, what you want, what you feel you deserve and where you are right now in life.  

Evolving in a truly faith-filled manner describes a life that I am so desiring to live, a life of faith. Experiencing a limitless existence in the "substance of things hoped for & the evidence of things not yet seen" is a daily walk. Its not for the faint at heart. Its not for the individual who must have all the answers at every corner. I lived in that space at different intervals in my life & it was the most exhilirating experience ever! My desire is to make faith my permanent residence. This is an evolution....

Marital Must Haves

On the tail end of a splendid weekend spent with my family celebrating my youngest first cousin's union I'm left in a very reflective state. I know, when I am not pondering something or another. Well I am. These days I am very aware of myself, where I am on my personal path and the moment I find myself in. Should I be sharing it with you? Maybe, quite possibly some personal truth that I stumble upon may help someone. Who knows. Anyway my doll of cousin was such a site to behold. She was absolutely breathtaking. When I look at her I see the passage of time. My how time flies. Wow, she is not a little girl anymore. I am also no longer a young woman any longer. My thoughts wander to the ideals I once had about marriage, weddings, a husband and all of that happily ever after fairytale stuff. Things have changed. I have changed. Although I am still a hopeless romantic I am no longer as flighty and idealistic as I once was, well maybe not in matters of the heart. I pray that my cousin Danielle has before her more expectations than I do now of the fine institution of marriage. I think that she does as she is in her very early thirties, not nearly enough time to have accumulated as many regrets, failed expectations of relationships, etc. With this in mind I recall having a conversation with a friend concerning our marriage must haves, the absolutes, the necessities of a union following exchanged vows. We swapped our lists, laughed at each other and thought nothing of it. I tried to be as brutally honest as I could be. My friend and I are both at least forty, so the lists I noticed aren't as long as they probably would've been at age twenty five or so. So, here they are, my marriage must haves post age thirty five. Keep in mind this is a comprehensive yet brief list of things that are must haves for me personally. This list may be condensed by the time I am forty five I am sure.

1. Must allow me to be me. I am finally at a place in my life where I so love me, in fact I am totally digging me, all of me, the good, the bad, the ugly & if its all good with me, then I'm expecting a man that will step back and allow me to be the woman that we've both come to fall in love with.
2. Must possess an appetite for life. I may spend some time being engaged to the man but I welcome the man who will be engaged in life beside me. No sitting in front of the television for hours on end.
3. Must respect my idiosyncracies & complexities as I will his. Those things make us unique.
4. Must never ask "is that another pair of shoes?".
5. Must be willing to travel to places that I choose also. Yes, I may come up with the not so popular places to venture to but a willing travel companion in the form of my husband is non-negotiable.
6. Must not be selfish at all. I will want a bite of his sandwich, scoot all in his space, moodiness & selfishness will never do.
7. Must not compare my cooking to his mother's. It is an established fact that his mother's will always be better. There will be no kitchen competitions going on at my age. Enjoy both of our dishes and have a seat somewhere.
8. Must not come into the kitchen while I am cooking & attempt to take over. Participation is fully appreciated, but taking over drives me insane. Reminds me of my Daddy.
9. Must pray for me....I really need it. My husband should/would know me best or most intimately. Prayers can be offered in my presence or otherwise. I just would like to be the subject in a conversation between him and our Creator.
10. Must be fully committed to maintaining our brand of which I will be the chief spokesperson. No sending me to bootleg, kitchen table, substandard salons in a so called effort to "save money".
11. Must support my need to write and/or ramble....it's what I do. His primary support will be understanding this aspect of me and making space in our lives for this. Key, writers/ramblers love to read. He will understand that when I am frantic, he should offer me a book, or laptop and alone time. Just send me to time out.
12. Must allow me to build my own relationship with his child/children separate & totally apart from his. Vice versa.
13. Must not frown upon me having people over for the holidays (those holidays that actually exist & those that I make up on my own).
14. Last but certainly not least, must provide engaging intimate encounters on a consistent basis in alternative locations & well I will leave it at that....

Degenerative Arthritis of the Soul...Jeopardizing the Pretty Behind the Petty

I tried comforting a friend today.  I gave him the best advice that I possibly could.  Listening to him share the struggles he was undergoing really broke my heart. I understood his pain because I too had found myself in similiar situations.  During that stormy time in my life and there were several that mimicked the very same situation, I doubted myself, my ability to pull myself out of it and if the situation would ever get better.  I blamed the other person terribly.  The problem was as I saw it,  was obviously outside of myself.  From my very keen perspective I was being hurt, abused, misused, neglected, taken for granted, manipulated and grossly disrespected.  Every other foul act of inhumanity that another could do to me was being done against me. Like my friend I too recall feeling hopelessly frustrated and discouraged.  I know exactly how it feels to look at the situation all around me and see it failing. I have seen myself in sinking ships far too often.  I've set sail upon the Titanic of relationships and jobs many times over.  Being in connection with people or situations that are nonproductive sucks the life out of you.  Yes, relationships with draining dilemmas are debilitating in every sense.  When assuming the role of victim it truly feels as if everything and everyone is against you, yet its worse when the relationship, marriage, or job is a dead end situation.  Envisioning no way out is no place close to seeing no way through.  When I found myself most recently in such a state, I recall the beauty of relaxing on a dear friend's sofa and gleaning such words of wisdom as "no matter what, take care of yourself."  As simple as that advice was it still holds such a profound morsel of wisdom.  Taking care of the self is paramount when plagued with perpetual problems from someone or something you've committed yourself to.  I can remember those days of laying there on my friend's sofa recounting how terrible I was being treated by my then "man".  I'd talk, bemoan, vent and sip wine, bemoan, talk, vent and sip wine, talk, bemoan and sip more wine.  Now looking back at those venting moments I am so glad that I had a true friend who challenged me to put the glass of wine down and get to the track or the nearest gym.  Yes I had an insurmountable degree of stress and pain in my life but the way that I was dealing with it was weighing on me. I was committing a cardinal sin against myself, I was jeopardizing the pretty behind the petty.  I was allowing the petty issues of another to jeopardize my pretty.  That simply would not do.Weight gain as a result of prolonged stress from an outside force was not a good look at all.  If you cannot control the outside force you can eliminate it.  Listening to my friend reminded me of the valley that I had been in.  In gratitude I thank God for the passage of time, wisdom and healing.  I've learned now after several highly expensive purchased experiences the importance of caring for yourself in the midst of trials.  I now know that when dealing with an unfulfilling and/or degenerative  situation to always make every attempt to focus on your total well being.  Its not about ignoring the other party but moreso about focusing on myself.  Investing in yourself in the midst of a debilitating set of circumstances is an investment that always yields a high return. The best thing I could have done in exchange for complaining, wallowing or consuming bottles upon bottles of wine (well maybe not bottles, but a lot of wine was consumed) was to go for a walk, journal, yes journal or hit the gym.  The options of positive self care are endless.  Many times the relationship is on life support anyway and the absolute best thing to do is to save yourself.  Come on, we all know when a thing is over, but for whatever reason we simply can't call it.  Lingering too long and laboring with a relationship that has reached its expiration date long ago is a disservice to all involved.  I think about how I wasn't ready to let go yet I continued to hurt myself while attempting to hang on. What foolishness, what complete and utter foolishness.  Now I do not consider myself to be a negative person at all.  I tend to be the eternal optimist, the hopeless romantic, the rose-colored glasses wearer, you get the point. However, there are some situations that I know God had never called me to nor was I assigned to for lengthy periods of time.  I've learned the value and beauty of getting the lesson from a situation and moving on. Anything that assaults my well being for prolonged periods require prayer for me to know when the gig is up. I believe that one should definitely put as much work coupled with prayer and everything else called for into circumstances that appear to be waging war against them.  If you're truly giving it your all within the relationship, the marriage (which is an entirely another level of work), or on that job but the results of your efforts are nonexistent, its time to step back and weigh the costs versus the benefits of the partnership. If your union with anyone or any entity is costing more than its benefiting you some tough decisions are before you. But, how do you or have you been coping in the meantime?

 

 

When I think about my friend and the defeated tone of his voice I can almost hear my dad talking.  I strongly suggest no one to ask my father how he is doing, its a trap. My dad has a way of describing his health challenges in a way that causes one to have a strong desire to slit their wrists. He will go on and on.  My dad has degenerative arthritis in his knees and it is extremely unfortunate.  His condition is very painful and has now limited his mobility greatly.  He has ignored medical solutions for years now with one that tops the list, lose a substantial amount of weight.  My dad will describe in excrutiating detail on how his form of arthritis has progressed.  It's not that I don't feel sorry for him because truly I do.  I've tried on several occasions to get him to become more active, etc. What can I do now but listen to his complaints of chronic pain?   Basically degenerative arthritis, especially in my dad's case does not get better.  It has gotten worse.  He has lost nearly all of the cartiliage in his knees.  There's no cushion.  He has bone to bone friction and the pain that comes from the wearing down of it has to be beyond difficult to cope with. He has not lost any weight so it only exacerbates his situation all the more. Yes, the more my friend speaks I think of my dad's battler with degenerative arthritis. We all at some time or another have endured some form of degenerative arthritis.  I like to look at it more specifically as degenerative arthritis of the soul.  When we have compromised our needs and wants far too often for prolonged periods of time things begin to weigh on us heavily.  When we lack a self care regimen the stressors of our situation become bone to bone so to speak.  We have no cartiliage, no cushion between ourselves and the situation.  Therein lies the doom and gloom that we feel because things are getting progressively worse.  They actually are getting worse because we have no cushion for our soul, our minds, our wills, our emotions, our intellect against that circumstance that weighs against us.  If you have no healthy cushion to soften the blow of what you deal with on a daily basis you are much more than crippled.  I think back to myself and I how was the source of my sustained pain.  Instead of eliminating what I saw as the problem and/or seeking a healthy way of dealing with it, I added insult to injury by adding more weight.  Trust me, there's nothing like wine weight gain, not cute at all.  Other than witnessing a beautiful woman chain smoking, wine weight gain is such a tragedy. Thank God for an intervention. Once I put on the weight and saw the effects on my frame it only depressed me further and so the cycle continued until I received a good kick in the derriere from my dear friend.  I had to stop whining and complaining and do something about it.  I began my journey to release the weight and regain a sense of control of my life and my choices.  This is what I desperately want for my friend to know.  I am in no way advocating for selfishness or giving up and walking out on difficult situations or circumstances.  Some things may only be occuring for a season in one's life and it will indeed pass.  I truly believe that you cannot change another human being.  You cannot alter a toxic work environment that has negativity spilling forth from its top level. The only entity to ever be changed in any situation is you.  If your outlook on things have been crippled beyond recognition its time to replace the cartiliage in your life with something positive.  My soul is far too valuable to remain in a broken state.  I need my soul at a fully engaged state so that I can navigate through this wondrous world.  My mind has to be at full capacity.  My will must be in concert with Divinity to function smoothly. My emotions must be charged and fueled properly so that I can view myself and the world around me as a promising adventure.  This is a must.  My intellect must be nourished so that when circumstances attempt to belittle my mental swiftness I will know better.  It is up to me to discover an outlet or a supporting technique that will leave me better equipped to handle  the stressors that cannot be eliminated at the time.  The solution is not to go around quitting jobs, relationships and/or marriages.  I am by no means a quitter. Tenacity runs through my DNA. I come from a long line of women who have staying power but these days I do have an extremely low tolerance level for foolishness.  I am working on increased perseverance and the wisdom discern when God says "when" because quite frankly, sometimes I'm just not that spiritual.  Basically when it comes time to pull the plug on a dismal situation I will know. Here is what I finally chose to share with my friend and I so hope that he and countless others will try.  In fact, I hope that should I falter that someone will remind me to: focus on myself, invest in myself in the midst of a difficult situation, be kind to myself, be gentle, tender and attentive. Don't go too hard on the wine or the Ben & Jerry's, I'll only regret it later. Read something daily that is inspirational.  Listen to music that is uplifting, write, work out, walk, dance, breathe deeply, smile, get out of the house, laugh. Pray, meditate, attend church or some form of spiritual worship, try counseling. Eat well, choose healthy foods and did I say laugh? Above all, place my well being at the top of the list at all times.  This is not selfish, but self care at its finest.  What's the worst that could happen anyway?  The other party, your spouse, coworkers, family member or significant other actually sees something in you and chooses to follow your lead? No, not the worse case scenario you say? Well, perhaps the alliance completely falters altogether. I say you're still winning! You can walk away from the situation with an intact mind, bank account, career, a strong sense of self and a body that is in alignment with your mind and spirit.  Sanity is such a good look.  Yes optimal self care is the cure for degenrative arthritis of the soul.  I am now aware that the goal should never be on the situation getting better but the focus should always be on my becoming better.

The Desire Dossier

Every now and again I think I've stumbled upon a great idea, something that I have to try to determine if it will in fact transform my life.  Here's my latest, the "Desire Dossier"!! Basically anyone who knows me pretty well knows that I have this journal fetish.  I love to write but I love doing so in beautifully designed and cute little journals. I have tons of these for all sorts of things.  My journals are for much more than simply notetaking or penning down my thoughts, they are a safe haven. I cannot ignore a unique themed journal.  I love the Jordi Labana journals. I have small ones, mid-sized journals and yes of course larger 8.5 x 11 journals.  Many of them are blank, never had a word written in them at all.  One day I sat dreaming as I usually do, contemplating on a few things that I would love to have and I decided to grab one of my emply journals and start a book dedicated to that very thing, things that I desire.  So there, that's exactly what I did. On the first page I wrote what my intentions were for the journal and decided to daily list my desires.  This would not be a prayer journal or a wishlist, but simply a daily desire list.  Each day I will jot down whatever it is that I desire, just whatever comes to my mind that day that I would like.  At the day's end of course I will pray and thank God for all that is in my life and all that has yet to manifest but my ultimate goal is to simply list what I'd love to see show up in my life. I've decided to carry this journal around with me so that if something catches my eye I can jot it down including the store where I may have spotted the gem.  You see, a dossier is a file containing detailed records on a particular person or subject.  My desire dossier is an ongoing list of everything that speaks to my heart, soul, spirit and unique tastes.  If I come across a particular fragrance that melts my heart and uplifts my spirit, I jot down the name of it and even take a sample card.   Within this journal are daily reminders of what I love, like and care to see more of in my life.  I note these things with an expectant spirit, that these things, the little and the grand will make their way into my life. I don't go into overdrive on the how, I simply note what I like, what makes me smile. The desires that I list aren't always things but can also be experiences as well.  They are also not always for me but for others included.  The goal here is to list and leave them to the capable hands of my Creator.  All that I desire rests in the universe anyway and is in safekeeping.  The universe is God's handiwork, His blank canvas, His playground, His abundant field and His mind all rolled up in one.  At least this is what I think.  It works for me.  Since I've started listing things in my Desire Dossier I've already witnessed the delivery of some of my heart's delights.  I should scratch them off the list in an act of gratitude. Anyway, I think that I will keep this up.  Its a new and revolutionary concept for me, stilling myself to ponder what it is that I want or want more of in my life.  Some things are material or financially based but most of the things I want aren't.  Oftentimes we think about all of the things that plague our sanity, the things that we don't want but rarely do we stop and think about what we want, what we actually desire.  Those two words "want" and "desire" evoke such emotion. I rarely allowed myself to think about what I truly want and now is as good a time as any.  Now I may have to keep my dossier in close proximity as it does list quite a substantial amount of my most personal desires.  Such a descriptive list could be quite dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands....insert wicked laughter!

Your Cover's Been Blown Now What?

These thoughts are arriving without the aid of coffee, hmmm how about that? My heart's prayer has been for so long to live in the absolute most authentic way that I can.  If you cannot be transparent with yourself then who can you be real with?  It's about living from your core and allowing those core driven inclinations to drive you.  Your internal spiritual imprint dictates your natural drive. Yes, I think we all have an internal imprint.  I believe its like a fingerprint on the inside.  God's fingerprint on my heart gives way to all that makes me unique.  Throughout life I may encounter different things that speak to my heart.  I may cross peoples' paths that trigger an internal knowing. You may stumble into places and experiences that reflect aspects of ourselves.  When these things happen its in a response to a connection with that internal fingerprint.  More often than not we operate in reverse.  Many of us live from the external, allowing all that is out there to define and impact us instead of allowing the internal fingerprint, that internal unique identification to define us and guide us throughout life.  In my humble opinion, I like to believe that within me is the heartbeat of a queen, a lady, a hero, a muse, a goddess, an influencer and an elder.  There's probably some of other stuff there also, I'm unsure. Many of my inclinations, desires and tastes all attest to that fact. The soft things that I love, the things that I am passionate about, the subtle way I prefer to console, counsel or comfort someone or the wicked delight that I've been prone to have with life.  There are moments that life that just cracks me up.  I think thats the eternal kid in me, the little princess.  Yesterday, I began to ponder this thought and it occurred to me that many of the challenges that I have encountered in life were/are a direct result of living in opposition to my internal fingerprint. That was a humbling and convicting mindset and an altering aha moment for me.  Many times that I have felt disturbed ion about a particular situation or association was because I was accomodating it rather than standing in the true "who" of who I am.  Simply put, I was posing as someone I was never meant to be.  Its not necessarily about lowering your standards but I think the "craziness" happen when you forget to live from your core. Life falls into a chaotic mode when its lived in opposition to your core.  I feel the most comfortable doing certain things, the most myself.  Certain things are just in me to do, to be, to say, etc.  My love for fresh flowers, attempting to articulate my thoughts (i.e. rambling), finding the splendor in the mundane, classic black and white movies, and chaise lounges seem to be somehow ingrafted in my DNA.  I don't know where my love of simplistic regal things originated from but oh I how love courtesy, warmth, sincerity, and all that elevates everyday living beyond the petty and trivial.  I think to myself that quite possibly hidden deep down within me beats the heart of a queen.  Seriously, my ancestors may have hidden this knowledge from me but a goddess queen, a shero's heart beats within.  Not a forceful warrior queen, but a compassionate defender of the broken queen.  Perhaps it makes me feel better to think that flowing through my blood is the DNA of an advocate, influential, independent, passionate, heroic queen. Every now and then I have these tendencies that slip out and confirm what I have been foolishly attempting to hide or understand.  Those silly sing song voices of the old black and white classic movies that I so adore are a testament of my love for nostalgia, romance and timeless femininity.  When there is a cause or an issue that disheartens me, something rises up within me and I feel compelled to voice my opinion somehow.  I am passionate about certain things, primarily empowering and enlightening other young women to live freely, fiercely, and fervently.  My desire to pass on tidbits of knowledge to other ladies feels like a call to arms amongst sisters.  Everytime I find myself attuned to this idea of being led by what is within I feel completely whole.  Whenever I sit outdoors at a cafe and enjoy my surroundings while sipping on something divine I am utterly amused at myself.  I think "sweetheart you were meant for this". Leisurely contemplating my next step works for me. In fact, last week I posted something to this effect on my literary outlet as known as Facebook.  A friend and woman whom I've respected and admired for years commented with words that struck me silent.  This queen herself commented that I was "a writer in hiding".  How observant, how clever, how kind, how on point was this delightful diva!!! My cover had been blown on facebook! This social network was only my means of entertainment and lighthearted outlet but this beautiful unknown mentor had outted me. Wow! Days later a childhood friend and I sat leisurely drinking wine at a mutual acquaintance's family picnic simply catching up. This doll of a woman did the exact same thing! She referred to me as "the Carrie Bradshaw of Facebook"! I took it as a compliment, laughed and had another drink. The gig was up. I've been found out, busted, discovered, outted, spotted and basically put on "Front Street".  So now that my cover's been blown I know that an existence of hiding cannot do.  It simply will not do.  I am a fully concious day dreamer.  I am awake yet I am such a day dreamer.  I am a goddess and a muse, a queen and a consort to kings.  I am a crime fighter waging war against spiritual violence assaulting the feminine psyche.  I am claiming who I am internally and will work to externally experience it daily.  I will live out this identity daily because withholding all that I am would be such a waste, such an enormous sign of disrespect to Divinity.  To all that I encounter I recommend that you do the same.  You can attempt to do as Akeem in the class movie "Coming To America" movie (yes I love that movie, I glean lessons from movies often, can't you tell?) and renounce your throne but always remember your throne will never renounce you.  By simply saying you "are no longer the Crown Prince of Zamunda" does not make it so.  Your regal nature lives within and is apparent in everything you touch.  I've finally accepted it and now that my cover's been blown I'm simply going to go with it. 

Guns and Butter: A Girls' Guide

Yes, my mind is wandering again. This affliction tends to occur on Saturday evenings laying across my bed. So I offer to you more rambling. I read a facebook post earlier today by a friend that recommended that young women closely examine their resources and the power within such resources when dealing with men. Basically she spoke on the senseless squandering of a woman's time and body for mere trinkets. Lets face it, there are scores of young women who are carelessly pimping their pretty for pennies. This scenario is one that is as old as time itself. Foolish women are not a new thing under the sun. Foolish young women without an intervention will unfortunately grow into foolish old women still "hustling backwards". This sad scenario makes me think of the John Singleton film, "Baby Boy" where Ving Rhames' character offers a brief lesson to two unsuspecting young Black men about the "guns versus butter" model. I just loved that scene! I do not count myself as chronically enlightened or anywhere close, but if there were a class for women as reformed derelicts, lets just say I'd be somewhere near the front of the class. I count it an honor to walk in "Melvin's" footprints (Ving Rhames' character) to offer unsolicited advice to unsuspecting young women. I look back at my past mistakes and foolish decisions and I am grateful that at least in my day I had/have a point of reference as a woman. There were women all around to whom I could observe and take notes from on the fine art on how to carrying yourself as a lady. It saddens me that many young women today do not even have that. I digress easily as you can tell. So, "Melvin" tutors "Baby Boy" on the concept of "guns and butter" and it is such a delight to me to see this type of veiled message being offered in an urban movie. Great move John!! For my young sisters who may not know, or missed that class, basically "guns and butter" is a model that gives an example of investing in "guns" or power as demonstrated in military production or further derived by assets that accrue in value and "butter" being anything that does not increase in value, once its spent, thats it. Girls, here's a suggestion, make notecards..."guns" increase in value, property, art, etc. "butter" does not increase in value, examples, purses, shoes, hair appointments. My dear, dear sweet little sisters I share all of this so that you not squander your pretty in pursuit of perishable items that are of little to no worth to you in the long run. You are priceless and simply cannot be bought or leased. When its all said and done, in your interactions with men I suggest you apply the "guns and butter" model. Your time is precious and every moment of it that you spend with a man there is an exchange occuring always. Always. As Ludacris so eloquently puts it if "you're going to do something strange for a lil piece of change" thats the definition of hustling backwards. When you consider "guns" and "butter" which would you prefer in exchange for whatever it is that you're offering? I offer the option of viewing everything that you receive in exchange for your time spent with a man as a gift or an investment. A man will walk away leaving you with something, a smile, frustration, dinner, laughter, a baby, a new insight, etc. something. You make the call, always. Even if no one ever paused long enough to share with you, I take it upon myself to offer some collective wisdom gleaned from other sisters who have a house full of gifts from men yet never received an investment, not once. Walking among us are sixty year old women with a wealth of trinkets and lively stories of the good old days and the men they knew and the time that passed them by. Do not become one of them. As women we are by nature "receivers" in every sense of the word. Our anatomy attests to this. We take things in, nurture it and offer it back to the world. Its just what we do. It is how we were designed. So, my darling dolls now that you know you are always receiving, first understand how to classify your reception and decide what you would like to receive more of in your life. On behalf of all of the broken women with regretful pasts, here it is, gifts vs. investments. Ladies our friends at Yale University defines a gift as "as a voluntary unconditional transfer of cash or other assets to someone by another individual or another entity, for which the donor does not receive goods or services in exchange". An investment is income relating to property held by the recipient for their benefit now or at a future date. While the original investment may have been acquired by the recipient as a gift, the subsequent receipt of income related to the investment is not considered a gift, but rather investment income. Dividends and gains from investment sales are investment income, not gifts. Sweethearts you do not earn gifts. You do not work for them at all. Gifts denote favor. Men offer them simply because you have found favor with them somehow. It's just the "Boaz" in them, allow them to do that, expect them to show up as such. Gifts are the niceties that you thought you had to "twerk" for or degrade yourself for. Gifts are the salon visits, the handbags, the shoes, the trips or the flowers. Gifts are thoughtful and yes, butter. Very few gifts accrue value. Cultivate relationships with men who are investors because you in and of yourself are great ground to invest in. How does a man invest in you you might ask? What dreams do you have? What goals do you have? Any businesses in mind? If you do not have any of these, now may be an ideal time to consider some. An investment will benefit you now but moreso in the long run. Forego campaigning for a weekly nail appointment and steer that gift into an investment. Do you have books that need to be purchased this semester? Thats an investment. Even if its a small thing such as an oil change, thats an investment. Remember, you're benefiting from it now and in the future. Whatever you can receive a benefit from beyond today is an investment. Long after the days that your looks have faded and your body is no longer a selling point you will be reaping the rewards. As Black women, culturally we haven't been taught the importance of this. For the greater part many of us have not been educated on how deterimental it is to leverage our assets in favor of future growth. We haven't been schooled on the fine art of securing our future. I speak to you fueled by the ashes of failed relationships and lost time with only lessons learned. Walk away with more than lessons ladies. Maintain a positive attitude, a godly spirit not a manipulative tone and stay open. Retain a positive attitude towards men and keep your expectations of them high. See them as good, generous and kind human beings not as someone you need to get before they get you. With all of this being said, I share all of this with a heart of love and great expectations of you at "no charge" (in my Shirley Ceasar voice).

Full Participation Required

How active of a participant are you in your own life? That's what I ask myself from time to time. How actively involved am I in my own redemption? A life of progression will require my full participation. Coasting along will never do.  Momentary pauses to reflect, meditate and exhale in gratitude are very necessary but one must keep going. Life is not a spectator's sport. One must be actively engaged.  I release many things to God but with the firm notion that "faith without works is dead" I struggle to know what's my work and what's God's work. In Montessori jargon, I still hesitate in not touching "Teacher's work". I am in no sense a quitter or a coward. I do not faint. Fainting is not an option. Fainting is only reserved for the helpless damsels in distress in those old black and movie classic movies. I do not give up but there are spaces in time when you know that the life you are living isn't life at all and certainly nowhere close to an abundant life.  Do you concede? Do you give up on that life? For me, I am learning to listen closely for direction as to the duration of a class. Yes, I said the duration of the class. Every single thing that we go through is a lesson of sorts.  There is no failure in God. Experiences we go through are lessons to discovering aspects of ourselves that require healing, ascension, redemption or expansion on some level.  Lessons arrive in the form jobs, relationships, friendships and exchanges of all sorts.  I believe that I've allowed some lessons to go on much longer than necessary. Once you understand a thing and its purpose you are better prepared to maintain it and entertain it in your life.  You will also know when its time has expired.  Full knowledge of these things means that you are actively participating in your own life.  Realizing that I am reaching that level of living means a great deal to me.  Prior to coming to this delightful place of understanding I was haphazardly going through life reacting to things and situations. Discernment was a distant relative of mine.  I cried out to God for relief from many things like a bratty toddler. I wanted relief and rescuing from my life, a life that I was not experiencing, only enduring.  Right now, I am conceding defeat to a work environment that threatens my mental state of mind.  My season is up. I have learned a great deal there.  However, my idea of a decent work day does not begin with a migraine before eleven o'clock in the morning.  Coping with the inconsistency and utter disorganization of the workplace should not be found in a daily happy hour. I am so proud of myself for recognizing the toxic effects of an environment that is incongruent with who I am as a person.  Yaay me! I evaluated a dilemma, asked for guidance, walked in courage and confidently exited stage left with an intact mind. This is full participation in a life that I am actively creating. I love it. I might as well love it, seeing as I am the one living it.

Dancing With Duke and Destiny

Okay so I've been battling some sinusy, cold like dilemma that has waged war against my body. Having retreated to my bed this weekend has actually been quite therapeutic.  Within I feel very well, its just that my body is not in total agreement with that status. Its a three way fight it appears between my body, spirit and soul and its pretty much a toss up right now as to who is winning.  My last few nights have not been pleasant at all.  Why is it that a cold always seems worse at night? Well, after dosing up with more icky cough syrup around midnight and fading to black sometime after 1:00 am a friend who works graveyards found it imperative to wake me up around 5:00 am.  I cannot return to sleep so here I am with a multitude of things flooding my mind.  My thoughts continue to shift to the three year olds I spend my day with and the elementary aged wonders I spend my evenings with.  Children are truly the greatest teachers.  It is absolutely fascinating how two completely opposite types of children can be so alike.  The truth of it is that they are so very much the same.  At the end of the day my Montessori friends hailing from well to do families and my little hood wonders from the lower income spectrum are at their core simply children in need of love, support and boundaries.  During the day I find myself attempting to master my Montessori lingo.  Always trying to remain positive, soothing and nurturing. It is indeed a fine line of accomplishing that while remaining stern.  I attempt to walk this tightrope daily and fail quite often but I get up again and again because in doing so I am learning much about life and myself.  Discipline, consistency and structure makes all of the difference.  What I've found to be so amusing is how I've struggled to balance both environments.  Again during the day I entertain Finn, Lillian, Alessandra, Stanley, Angelina and others such as Evan whereas in the evenings I work with Destiny, Prince, Alize and Sanaia.  Do remember the names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not so innocent. However, the names say it all.  I am charged with nurturing children from two worlds but they are all children.  By the time I arrive in the afternoons to my afterschool program I am met with smiles and hugs.  I am greeted so warmly because I never learned how to turn off my Montessori sing song voice from earlier in the day and these elementary aged kids actually love it! Many of these amazing kids stand eye level with me yet enjoy my asking them how their day was and expecting responses void of the adjective "good." I've found that they thirst for attention, affirmation and engagement.  My toddlers from earlier in the day have all of those things yet are without boundaries, consequences and discipline many of them have been over indulged to begin with.  Early in the day I am just as delighted to see Duke's smile as I am in the afternoon to jump rope with Destiny. Their smiles contain the same childlike joy and wonder. Their tears convey the same sadness and fear.  At the end of their day both sets of children return home yet home may be a completely different experience for each of them.  This dance between two worlds certainly keeps me on my toes and I love it.  Catering to the needs of two sets of children compels me to be creative, clear and quick with it. I admit I pour on an extra helping of gentleness and comfort to the likes of Sanaia and Alize because I realize that my nurturing may be the only kindness they receive that day.  Little Naomi, one of my Montessori friends is lavished with attention and indulged in it from every direction. Although I have yet to meet her parents seeing as I've only met her nanny, it appears to me that this little princess with a Texas-sized personality is greeted with smiles and warmth from everyone. How privileged is that? Smiles and warmth for every child, especially from one's parents should not be a privilege. When I set foot on my evening campus I notice that some of the teachers are yelling and hardened towards the students.  I understand their frustrations, Lord knows that I do but again, these are children.  With the right mixture of firmness and concern I know that any child can thrive.  It matters not where a child originates from as long as their experiences and encounters with the world around them validates their presence on the planet. I think that is part of my purpose. I am here to do that with each person I come into contact with. I must validate your presence on the planet.  On behalf of all of the other spirits who've arrived here and are actively involved in their work, welcome to planet Earth may your journey here be peaceful, productive and filled with love.  I say to Prince and to Tatum welcome, you are both welcome here. I am so glad that you've made it. Make yourselves at home. May your work be blessed. Yes, its an interesting dance that I stumble through daily as exhausting as it sometimes is, but dancing with Duke and Destiny has taught me so very much. Now, God please give me the grace tomorrow to return because somehow I feel You're going to turn the music up aren't You?

Dating The Montessori Way

I've recently made peace with the thought that I will indeed continue on with accepting my Mrs. sometime in the near future. In fact, next year I will seriously return to the dating world with a sincere interest in accepting my Mrs. Yes, yes I did say accepting my Mrs, not working towards it or pursuing it.  Somehow I still believe that what Divinity has designated for me is for me. I simply must position myself to accept it into my life.  Next year I will make my grand return to the romantic arena with a serious openness to a sustaining love.  After leaving yet another substandard relationship, not person, but relationship a few months ago I've chosen to take a year off from entertaining the idea of a serious relationship.  I can honestly say that right now I am simply not ready for the intensive work required of maintaining love.  In fact, I'm downright exhausted from the emotional, financial, and mental investments I've made into my last three relationships.  When I'm in, I'm usually all in. I'm pretty spent right about now, not bitter simply spent.  As I regroup and enjoy light hearted exchanges with men now, dates and conversations take on a different meaning because I am not attempting to create a relationship.  I enjoy hearing a male perspective on things and I so love the masculine energy that balances things out. When I come across some elements of character within a man that I can wholly appreciate, I file those traits away mentally for when I'm ready.  Lately I've discovered just a set of traits in a wonderful friend who is supportive and challenging at the same time.  His strong personality, stable set of values and morals, loyalty to family and old school work ethic certainly sets him apart.  Our conversations are always filled with laughter, verbal banter and mutual support. Having him as a friend has been a real blessing at this time of my life.  I am learning so much from him.  I truly look forward to next year.  When I consider how I'd like to share intimate space with another I laugh to myself at a new concept I've stumbled upon.  I've recently shared about my experiences at a Montessori school and the environment that I visit daily. Now remember Montessori is a scientific method of education, a philosophy of child development, and an approach to children that helps them maximize their potential.   The philosophy's main tenet is children have an innate capacity to absorb knowledge and do so best when they were free to work and play in a carefully prepared, nurturing environment.  Everyday I find myself on a campus with three year olds where I work to provide freedom and nurturing so that their optimal potential is realized.  I do so by using certain verbage and a communication style that is soft, soothing and supportive. Its taking me quite a while to embrace this medthodology but I love it. Yes, I love it.  One day I noticed how this very same science can be applied to all interpersonal relationships, especially romantic relationships.  I experienced yet another Aha moment.

So, I am so pysched about the opportunity to use my new set of Montessori skills on an unsuspecting male suitor. I welcome the moment that I can engage in heart "work", more Montessori verbage, with a progressive man who can appreciate a woman such as myself.  "Work" is the Montessori term used when referring to engaging in an activity that expands one's personal potential.  In the case of another human being, it isn't the man who is my work but the interaction with him that will allow me to expand my potential and grow.  I look forward to evolving and developing within from my future work with an engaging individual.   On campus with my little group of friends daily I am exposed to tons of Montessori verbage that I find fascinating.  Harsh language and rough tones are discouraged completely. In fact, all forms of negative conditioning, judgement and demeaning behavior is excluded from a Montessori environment.  I am thrilled by the interesting things I have learned about human development by simply being in such an environment.  I've discovered the unique way in which young children hear and interpret a request.  The delay that comes about when asked to perform a task is not defiance but a moment to simply process what has been asked of them. I see now how impactful words really are. Words are connectors for them. Wow! This is so important to remember. It has revolutionized my way of thinking. I have to work hard now to remember not to say what I do not want but rather what I would like to experience. Rather than saying "Lillian don't throw throw the books" it is a far stretch to remember to kindly recommend "Lillian our books are for reading."  When one of my tiny friends has a confrontation with another where their personal space is infringed upon, I hear the words "walk away." Hitting and aggressive behavior is frowned upon as it disrespects both parties.  Gentleness is encouraged. The phrase "be gentle with your friend's body" is suggested.  There are always messages that humans are attempting send to each other, either verbal or non verbal.  Rather than assuming that another has received and accurately interpreted a message, friends are encouraged to determine if they have heard a teacher message.  I can totally see how this can be incorporated into heart work with a real, live man. Not that I am comparing them to toddlers but well, men do have this childlike simplicity that I have often overlooked thereby overcomplicating things.  Like children, men have a wealth of words and verbal skills that can be called upon to use when challenged to do so.  Men can express themselves. Men can rise to the occassion when it is expected and required of them. I must remember this time around to suggest that to my next love interest.  How wonderful an opportunity it would be in due season to be able to speak softly, kindly, tenderly and in nurturing manner to someone I can share intimate space with. Oh how calm that space would be.  When the exchange crosses over into a volatile or negative area, I imagine how healthy it would be to diffuse it and transform the atmosphere by infusing it with soothing and kind words.  I laugh to myself at this idealistic thought.  I have yet to meet the man who would embrace this thought process.  I can hear myself saying to my impending lover, "Honey this exchange is becoming a bit intense I think that we both should walk away and calm our bodies." My how it sounds sublime but completely unrealistic, or is it?  Is dating the Montessori way a figment of my imagination? Is it too lofty of a goal only to be implemented with children? Would a grown man not be able to appreciate it? Would a grown man actually be repulsed by such language and believe that I'm being condescending? I think to myself who wouldn't want to be respected and spoken to warmly? Who wouldn't appreciate being in such close proximity with a nurturing individual such as myself?  I am amazing afterall and will be so much more amazing next year after all of this Montessori has marinated in me. 

Suffer The Little Children

Am I the only one who receives answers to prayers in the funkiest of ways?  It must be me, I know it.  I asked for expanded faith, increased trust in Providence, patience and all of those lofty and idealistic nice things that one should ask for and in comes "Abby." The names have been changed to protect the innocent and not so innocent in this case. For those of you who know me personally I try to create my own reality by renaming the details and descriptions of particular life experiences.  My closest of friends are quite comfortable when I refer to my job as my daily field trip.  Lately my field trip has also been quite a Sunday school lesson as well.  Desiring something new or at least a little different from any environment that I'd worked in before I decided upon a Montessori school working with three year olds.  I thought that this course of action would be a delightful romp.  I could work with children and make money and also learn about a teaching philosophy that I was curious about.  I had heard of the Montessori philosophy but had zero experience with. When I came aboard as a Teaching Assistant at a day school in the artsy museum district I was extremely optimistic about the adventure ahead of me. See...I am a very positive person! Well, I was in for the lesson of a lifetime.  The words in the Bible where Jesus proclaims "suffer the little children to come unto me" echoed in my brain like a taunting mockery that was now before me.  I met a group of adorable, interesting and curious little three year olds.  These lightbearers who have obviously been here before captured my heart with their loving and lively personalities.  My days begin with the likes of  Lillian, Finn, Dudley, Angelina, Abby, Tatum, Edgar, Alessandra, and all of the other little wise beyond their years wonders.  When I enter the campus I am greeted with hugs and a host of "hello Miss Terrea." Gosh, that does wonders for a person's countenance to be greeted so warmly and with such sincerity each morning. This makes my heart full but there is always a but.  Most days are a dizzying pace of confusion, chaos and coaxing.  Enter Abby, my pint sized nemesis.  Abby has had a distinct way of vexing me beyond belief. As with many of her classmates Abby has a defiant, spoiled, unhindered way about her that has made my days brutal.  The Montessori day school where I spend my days entertaining and being tutored by Abby and her compatriats is a haven for the pint sized privileged.  Abby and her friends' are boho chic, the offspring of the well to do hippie progressive set.  Abby has not yet discovered boundaries.  Her freedom of expression is exercised quite often.  This little girl has turned into the bane of my existence.  My smile drops when I notice that Abby has graced us all with her presence today.  Oh the joy in realizing that Abby has returned for another day! Yes she is a vision to behold!! I have yet to ever see Abby, sweet, sweet Abby without some green or yellow mucus flowing or possibly dried up on her nose.  She is a one girl version of toddler tyranny.  Most of the days with Abby are spent constantly redirecting her behavior in some form or another. Although I am a novice at the Montessori philosophy and verbage, using it with and on Abby has been a constant source of frustration.  Anyone familiar with Montessori understands that it is an educational philosophy centered on allowing children's innate capacity to absorb knowledge.  Montessori environments are designed to encourage optimal learning where children are free to work and play in a carefully prepared, nurturing environment. The key words are freedom and nurturing.  All day long I am a facilitator of that freedom while nurturing and soothing.  This ideal sounds wonderful doesn't it? The challenge comes in when ushering this freedom to the likes of little people who again aren't acquainted at all with boundaries.  So in my best and most sing-song voice I provide choices to Abby as she defies any and everything while doing so walking around oozing infection.  Picture my frustration using the Montessori verbage that I've absorbed and mimicked from the other teachers.  "Abby feet on the ground please", "oh my friend Abby please be safe with your body", "Abby wood chips belong on the ground, not in your mouth" "Abby its time to rest now, would you like help for me to help your body lay down or can you do it yourself?"  "Abby please be gentle with your friends' body"  These directives in and of themselves aren't a problem at all.  However, they become a major sore spot when repeated over and over and over again within an hour to the same sweet, sweet, sweet little Abby.  Her ickiness has reached an all time high.  You see in addition to her defiance and yellow and green constant drainage Abby also has a fascination, a disturbed fascination with casting aside the need for undergarments at a moment's notice.  She will fling a pair a little girl princess panties to the wind in a minute and parade about.  Nothing new I am sure to the progressive set.  The progressive parents and teachers want to instill a relaxed sense of comfort with one's body.  I just have never experienced the sight of a two and a half year old pausing to pleasure herself in the middle of a classroom.  This behavior has puzzled me so.  Much of the behavior, tantrums and temperaments of these toddlers have perplexed me.  On one hand I feel I am surrounded by mere geniuses who have absorbed an enormous amount of information from the world around them.  They are extremely articulate, some with outstanding verbal skills and reasoning ability. These kids could engage any adult in a lively and entertaining dialogue. I'm sure of it.  On one hand I witness highly evolved little lovable beings, well maybe except Abby and on the other hand I see in some of them future residents of a drug rehab facility. I understand that meltdowns are normal for toddlers who may not get their way from time to time but wow. Little Angelina's meltdowns look more like a scene from a bad movie as she flings puzzles from the nearest shelf she can reach.  When restricted from doing so or asked to pick them up in my most loving Montessori tone she spots the nearest movable object and continues throwing things. Now I consider myself pretty progressive but there is a line between being progressive and allowing for behaviors that will someday backfire on you.  I think that children who fail to learn appropriate limitations at an early age are started on a difficult path ahead.  I sit and ponder that the behaviors I witness cannot be due to the Montessori philosophy at all but could it be that its partially due to being reared in over-indulged households.  Over and beyond that I still stop and ask, God what are You trying to teach me in all of this?  I believe that absolutely nothing happens for no reason at all.  There is a reason, even some minute reason for allowing me to cross Abby and her friends' path. There is a lesson in all of this.  There must be a lesson.  These must be a reason for allowing my days to end in such utter frustration.  There must be a reason for migraine headaches before ten o'clock in the morning.  There must be some meaningful lesson for me in all of this. I looked beyond little Stanley asking to see my nipples but again, there must something I should retain from this experience.  Sidenote, the following day after Stanley's nipple inquiry I suppose I wore a dress that proved to be too much for him.  Stanley simply hauled off and groped my girls. Being sexually harassed by a two and a half year old has to have some greater meaning, some inner lesson. I have yet to discover any of them.  Yes we want to instill in these little ones a healthy respect for their bodies but my body must also be respected Stanley. 

While driving home one afternoon and foregoing happy hour I pondered what this all means. "Suffer the little children to come to me" came to me. Those were the words that Jesus spoke so long ago when His disciples were trying to keep them at bay.  Suffer in that sense meant "to permit" or "to allow."  Okay, yet again this spiritual perspective always has a way of making me feel pretty bad.  So Jesus was saying "its okay let the kids come, cause I love the kids" and here I am pleading with God to get me away from these kids.  One of history's most influential and greatest spiritual teachers welcomed and embraced the icky kids and here I am trying to run from them.  Well, it appears that there is indeed a lesson to be learned here.  I won't suffer because of the children but will suffer the children. They are my appointed tutors at this time sent to instruct me.  Breathe and receive the lesson here. Its taking me some time to discover it but once I find what is it I am to learn from I will receive it and try my best to apply it. I hope. But God please, please don't let Abby get her ickiness on my clothes, please.

Not So Pretty Afterall

God has such an interesting sense of humor.  I just know that He gets a major kick out of my little prayer requests.  At this point in my life my conversations with Divinity have this "Eat, Pray, Love" aura about them.  Quite like author Elizabeth Gilbert's thirst for a tangible experience with her Creator and her life itself, I also hunger to be more connected to my life and its Source. My desire for connection is on a more personal level beyond the walls of a church or place of worship. My inner conversations with God where I ask for certain things or experiences are truly heartfelt for me and I assume hilarious for heaven.  Most recently I asked that my faith be increased and expanded, that my trust be elevated and the personal limitations I've lived within be removed.  That had to have Him beside Himself in laughter I'm certain of it.  I know that God loves me and like a father, the masculine side of Him that is not ever moved by emotion simply shakes His head I am sure and chuckles to Himself at the silliness of some of my heartfelt requests. My Creator knows me inside and out.  He knows all that I am and aspire to be, yet my emotional pleas do not move Him one bit.  I know this for certain because if they did, I would most likely be married by now.  I digress.  Divinity's presence in my life offers support, consolation and comfort yet does so without complete ignorance of who He's working with at all times. The Mother in my God tenderly comforts me and the Father in my God logically confronts me.  His voice almost sounds like that of my daddy when I come to Him with some bull.  Yes I said it.  When I approach my daddy, meaning the man who raised me, with an emotional appeal I am met with a blank stare and what I believe is a crude observation.  My daddy can be a bit rough around the edges to put it mildly.  For example years ago in my twenties during a very brief, unthought out engagement I saw a particular wedding dress that I simply had to have, never mind I knew the marriage was not meant to be, the dress was meant for me though.  I asked my daddy for the finances for this particular work of art detailing to him how the flowy chiffon skirted ballgown would look on me.  I went on and on about the fabulousness of this dress to him. I showed him pictures of the dress, the front and the rear view with full details of the train and all.  I showed him pictures of me wearing the dress.  I received no absolutely no response from him.  The man took another drag of his cigarette and continued watching the television. He sat there unmoved.  Seeing as I was getting no response whatsoever, I felt I had to up my emotional plea a few notches. In my most emotional tone I shared with my daddy "this dress will make me feel pretty" and I just had to have it.  Completely unmoved as he knocked the ashes into the ashtray, his only response was "how pretty do you think you can feel in a less expensive dress, cause you aint getting that one if I have to pay for it and definitely not to marry that clown."  Did he just tell me no? Did my daddy not understand the importance of my feeling pretty? Clearly, he did not nor was he moved by tears, yes I did cry. I was a bit overly dramatic in my exit.  He was truly insensitive to my needs.  The only thing that I could do of course in a situation such as this was turn to my mother who understood my need to feel pretty. She did and she magically bought the dress that I never wore because I, of course called the wedding off six months prior to the date.  Did I feel foolish, yes.  Have I ever admitted it to my father? No. This memory truly makes me understand all the better the masculinity in my God.  His understanding of me is so unfiltered by emotion yet grounded in total understanding and logic of his love for me.  God, my ultimate Father always answers my prayers in the most uncanny, distinctive ways.  Without music or fanfare, in comes the lesson to deliver aspects of those requests. 

I still approach my Source with some bull from time to time.  Yes, again, I said it, some bull.  I naively and immaturely, at age forty still ask for things and experiences that I have no idea that I am unprepared for, cannot manage, or unable to understand the full magnitude of.  When I'm in my bratty mode I ask for bull, things that sound so great, lofty and spiritual that I am nowhere ready for.  Months ago I did such a thing.  I asked to live a life of complete abandonment, liberated, spiritually centered where my gifts can be used. Wow, doesn't that sound so enlightened, so spiritual, so above the base concerns of the world? It was heartfelt, yet I had no real clue of what I was asking. I honestly believed that I was not living yet existing.  My ill-conceived relationship, one that I had invested much in was on life support and failing miserably.  Although I was larger city than my hometown and had much to offer, I was severely discontent with the life that I was leading.  I wanted more.  I wanted to live by faith for real. How cool did that sound?  Was I ready for what it would mean? Nope.  Charged by emotion, I exited stage left from the relationship wishing him well and hoping for the best.  Somehow in my emotionally charged exit and profound optimism I stepped over the thought that the guy who wasn't working out was also covering the living expenses and my contract with the school I was at had just ended.  I was determined to move ahead yet it appeared that I was going backwards in different areas. Again, here's where I envision my Divine Daddy unmoved by my silly emotions turning and looking at me as tenderly as possible and shaking His head thinking to Himself, "look at her, she has no idea."  Somehow I knew that it would all work out for me but I wanted it to work out pretty.  There goes that word again, "pretty." I wanted God to answer my prayer for personal progression and liberation with a pretty little tidy bow so I could live happily ever after.  Well, thanks Divine Daddy for working all things together but I am so not feeling pretty, nor are any of the details flowing perfectly into place in a timely manner.  Where's the job with benefits? Where's the romance? Where's the heroic theme music chronicling the life of woman getting her life back? I'm not feeling pretty at all. There goes my daddy's voice again "how pretty can you feel in a less expensive dress, especially if I have to pay for it?"