...sipping on plum wine trying to figure it all out on this misty friday nite. on one hand, all is well. we are alive, healthy and happy. on the other hand, i feel like a huge failure where fasting is concerned. okay, the failure moment is done. poof....be gone!
other women are getting all dolled up tonite. putting their best freak'em dresses on; their best mac faces...to be seen or to be chosen. yet, they will all swear that they are 'at the spot' to unwind. being a woman in 2009 america is funny like that sometimes.
my current struggles include (but are not limited to): not taking on other people's energy; holding my bff's hand as she goes through a
nasty divorce; and dealing with my own growth (and lack there of).
i havent decided yet if it is narcissism that entertains my need to hold mirrors up and stare at fears and ugly parts. but for whatever reason, i get a kick out of cocoon and butterfly stages, alike.
i have decided to stop using a word processor to finish the manuscripts. i need more str
ucture that what wp give. i am not disciplined enough for that much blank space. do you know what happens for me, with th
at much space? you guessed it...nothing! the blank space seems to grow into massive whiteness; resounding emptiness. nothing to prompt me back. i'm sucking it up and purchasing some software. the bootleg software sucks rotten eggs. tired of not being able to completely finish a project in a consistent space/document.
i have committed myself to writing a poem a day, for the next 30 days, (Inshallah/God willing, i am blessed to see them, that is).
i am already putting myself thru a boot camp of sorts, to enhance flailing skills in discipline. the results are poor and to top it off, i have committed to writing every day this month.
as much as i want to gruel and complain about this "addition" to the things-to-do list, my reality is writers write: everyday. i have not been writing. the only thing that saves my neck is that i journal. but completed-writing tasks are left undone. so what do i say to this challenge?
good! maybe then i'll finish this book. needless to say, any works posted on this and other blogs are the rights and property of this writer. lets not have to pay court fees shall we? thanks.
disclaimer: i am not a poet. but i love to play with words, string sentences together and paint pictures. to get more meaning out of this, i've chosen to write in a poetic form most days and free-write/free-style poems and haikus to fill in the gaps. i'll focus on two poetic forms a week and go between the two, to create something. the poetic forms are chosen randomly. keep things interesting...
masterpieces of minimalism may be my best works. be kind. lol. these are mostly first drafts:)
so busy partying for the earthday that i completely forgot to purge and cleanse for the summer solstice. even today, i am eating ice cream and cake from yet another loved one's burfday celebrations. we are deep in the month of june and july. but now im feeling sluggish, piggish and ish. that cant go on. too hot for extra meat. bought some smooth move tea. thinking of sipping on it tonite and the next three nights. that or just take a sea salt cleanse. hope it isnt to uncomfortable but im certain that im pretty toxic:((( might be a bit painful. pain is a deterrent but what choice do i have? it's back to work in a few weeks.
there are no words for all that coonery. no classics. even the ojay tribute was all teeth. the only bright spot, was the sad occassion, Janet Jackson coming out to speak to the crowd. she reminded folks that mike was family for them, not an icon. ase. jamie is a penis sucking jerk, who did more shucking and jiving then most. and debra lee, as always with no clue. bet thought they did a good job. they even said that they did a great job with a tribute at the last minute. hogwash!
viacom has never agree to be a friend to the blak community. why should they create quality programming for our children? pathetic. that's what it is. bet is eating our children by the droves; contributing to the dumbing down of america. our future does not seem bright.
i have been pressured by my parents all week to attend the church anniversary musical tonite. i mean, both of them have called me, at separate, times to remind me of it. they dont ever both call me for church functions. i thought i had gotten them to the point where they left me alone about church. guess i was wrong. lol.
im going, cuz both of them have asked. im looking at it like a sacrifice. such a simple task, to give of my time, (((when i dont want to))), to attend something that would make my parents' heart smile. but it is the least i can do, in honoring them while they are still here. beside, this will count for sunday service!
and too, im interested in seeing if i shriek back when the church doors hit me, like vampires do sunlight, seeing as how my mom thinks its only the devil got me running from the church. lol.
my prayer for my parents is not that we see common ground.i dont even know if that's possible, considering how old they are. my prayer is that when my mother looks at me, she will have a peace that comes over her, that in her heart of hearts she knows, that I am favored by God. that i am guarded, guided, protected, spared, and blessed by God too.
during my birthday massage at a very swanky spa, i decided to practice meditating. i was successful for some minutes. other minutes, my mind wandered off to very far away places. it was always interesting, the conversations in my head, when i caught myself drifting and had to reel them (the thoughts) back in. funnier still, was how i startled myself every time i became aware that i had been mind-rambling. at times, i played complete scenarios out before i caught myself.
it has been many years since i have been a practitioner of yoga/meditation, so it's like learning to roller skate all over again. wobbly is not even the half. instead of schedules that i wont keep, i've devoted only 5 minutes a day to mediate. u'd be surprised how hard it is to come by five minutes, but that's another rant. however, in order to sit for long periods of time, i have to step my yoga game up. (no, 5 minutes is not long but i gradually add minutes so eventually we will have- long periods of time).
"Concentration can be cultivated. One can learn to exercise will power, discipline one's body & train one's mind." - Anil Ambani
the task at hand in yoga is to find union- between mind and body, between the individual and her God, between our thoughts and the source of our thoughts, between teacher and student, etc. (liz gilbert). yoga is sanskrit, translated as 'union'. yoga comes from the root word yuj, which means 'to yoke,' to attach yourself to a task at hand with ox-like discipline. since i suck at discipline, what better way to fight my way up the hill? so those pretzel-like moves we have come to know as yoga, is but only one part: hatha. it's hard enuff as it is to sit still and listen to God speak. it's even harder when your hip is hurting. so bending, twisting and flexing goes hand in hand with sitting to listen.
after all, praying is talking. meditating is listening. i have come to learn that i talk alot. i dont listen much. and we cant have that!
the final battle for sotomayor to wear her robe is underway. now all the republicans and nay-sayers are to attack and find ways to block her. i was cool with it, from the jumpstart. was happy for her. she's more than qualified. resume's pedigree. did u hear her speech? the parts about her mom? we all could relate: blak, white or other. we all love our mothers.
what did move me was the constant reminders about the state of relations between blaks and latinos. i mean, i know it's there. i just dont know when it got there. i would agree with my conspiracy friends and say, it was a calculated plot to keep us from uniting. guess what? it worked.
when i was growing up, i was exposed to latinos two ways: one, my uncle the drummer, who found himself in afro-cuba/salsa worlds and (2) the latinos that lived in my neighborhoods in texas. there were no latinos in new orleans that i can even recall. it's safe to say, they (in texas) are mexicans. i met more latinos in chicago. in texas, mostly mexicans and salvadorians. anyhoot, we were cool as a fan in school. no beefs between us. i was interested in how come the whole world knows that blaks and latinos hated each other and i never got the memo.
here's what i know so far:
some of blak america feels that latinos are riding the coattails of the civil rights movement. they had none of the pain, blood, sweat, and tears but benefit completely from blaks being killed and hung to have equality.
latinos dont share a desire to uphold affirmative action the way blaks do
latinos think blaks should care more about immigration laws.
Latinos resented the notion that they were merely junior partners in minority politics
by the 90s, things turned violent and the blak/brown divide grew wider than grand canyons. i think it's ridiculous. especially when u start tracing genetics/lineages/and history. how two groups of people who are more connected could be at such odds, is beyond me.
and the beef is bad: in california and texas the youth kill each other strictly b/cuz of skin color. both groups dont spend money with the other. no trust whatsoever and the racist remarks and cold glares at each other, up and down the street speaks to the challenges. all of this to jockeying for who is america's favorite minority group? what an honor:(
some say obama owed sotomayor's nomination to the hispanic vote, seeing as how they churned out a remarkable 67% of their vote to him. not a bad trade, if u ask me.
will obama and sotomayor be a soothing balm on the racial tensions of the two groups? maybe. maybe it just takes a little time and the right two leaders to help ease a sore spot. but sotomayor deserves this. she worked her buns off and she holds her own. it is a proud day for women as well as people of color. for now, i choose to be happy in that.