Last Thursday evening, amid a crazy schedule of drop-offs, school closings, cooking, cleaning, writing, Girl Scouts, haircuts, basketball, and laundry, I took a moment just for me, to make a delectable protein shake that would fill the void in lieu of a sit-down dinner. It was to be a delicious mix with chocolate PB2, a powdered peanut butter booster, sprinkled in for some much-needed energy and flavor. This smoothie would have put your Vitamix and Nutribullet to shame!
In my celebration of heaven in a smoothie, I happily gave my oldest two children some, while they scoured the pantry and fridge trying to fend for themselves for dinner. It was just that kind of day. Everything was hurried and we were all rushing to get to dance practice. In my haste, I had forgotten just that quickly that Read the rest of this entry »
In the meantime,
But, of course!
My babies grow.
“He loves me…. he’s special…. ly different”
In the meantime
On a masterpiece–
“Thinking of a master plan/’cuz ain’t nuthin’ but sweat inside my hand”
Little, but Tuff lights
Glowing in a dark world
But back to
In the meantime….
Recharging– everyone needs a respite
Into my new
Physical places, and
Tying up my literary shoelaces….
Getting acquainted with
Fictional and otherwise.
Clothes that don’t fit,
Pounds that won’t sit.
Lightening the loads.
Can’t nobody walk tall weighted down!
Quiet, personal victories.
A New Season.
In the meantime
Several of which,
Though new to me,
Lived in me–
My very nerves and sinew
From the start.
My brothers too….
In the meantime
Into my own Life
Humbling…. to my own gifts
In the meantime….
I’ve been praying for–yes again,
And receiving too,
In the time-ing!
In the meantime
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I am so pleased to bring you this post! In it, my eldest daughter River, age 7, reviews a beautiful story called “The Girl with the Magic Hands” by Nnedi Okorafor. Nnedi rightfully earned the 2012 Black Excellence Award for Outstanding Achievement in Literature (fiction). Her novels, listed in their order of publication, include: Zahrah the Windseeker (2008 winner of the Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature); The Shadow Speaker (winner of the CBS Parallax award and Essence Magazine Literary Award finalist); Akata Witch (An Amazon.com Best Book of 2011); and, Who Fears Death (2011 World Fantasy Award for Best Fantasy Novel, 2012 Kindred Award).
I went to pick up my four-year old daughter today from her preschool located inside a community church. I had a relatively good day trying to be reflective and more available and open to Spirit, and less distracted by the noise of social media or the news. So you can imagine my reaction when I learned of today’s horrific news that a 24-year old gunman opened fire at an elementary school claiming lives too many to count without streaming tears of helplessness. I must be dreaming.
It seemed surreal as I stood there zipping my baby girl’s jacket, adjusting her barrette which I apparently clipped too tight this morning. I could hear the chilling words from the chief reporting parent, as well as the words of the other mothers chiming in to confirm what they had also heard, but I was hearing all of this for the first time. None of it made sense.
I am sure that finding meaning in all of this was on the minds of all the parents and grandparents gathered to retrieve their children, but it was too early to contemplate. What will parents tell their children about their murdered friends, classmates, neighbors, or even siblings?
I stand away from Connecticut, but still know that tragedies like these seem to be hitting closer to “home”. Violence is quickly becoming a growing trend, and our most vulnerable are often the victims. In this case, it was children and courageous teachers who seem to be working in hostile times instead of developmental classrooms. Please someone, tell me I am hearing wrong.
I loaded my girl into her safety seat and then my heart sank. I looked back at her more often than usual, to make sure that she was still there, safely buckled and intact where I left her. I needed her fully awake and present. I needed to see her eyes. I looked for comfort and assurance beyond their glimmer. I needed to hear some more incessant pleading, and annoying requests. I don’t mind them, nor do I complain today. I needed to hear her.
My heart grows heavy with the knowledge that there are parents, not too far from here, who will not have the same privilege this evening. Instead, grief and an overwhelming sense of incomprehensibility await them. Though we who stand outside of their community empathize, we’ll mostly go on about our business, while their realities will be forever altered. I pray that one day these families will find the strength that they need to carry on, but in the meantime, as they search to find meaning, I hope that a comforting touch, a deeply pressed hug, and the openness and sincerity of community will tend to their hearts and homes during a very difficult time. This is my hope.
We may never find the words to describe this condition which seems to plague folk determined to carry out violence for whatever selfish, angry reasons they have, but I pray that our response will be one that will help these families find meaning in this. But I am not sure anyone can. I trust that in time we learn to trust, hope, and just breathe again.
I’ve always said that Life comes to teach us something, and I’d like to think that I’ve learned some great lessons along the way, but today was quite a reflective day, and the ten lessons below, though not entirely new, played over and over in my mind. Here is what I learned:
- No matter the sincerity of your intentions, there’s always the possibility of being misinterpreted or misconstrued. The only thing you own is your truth.
- I should not dim my light for fear of others’ feeling small. The total brilliance of this Universe depends on the light in each of us.
- There are people behind the Read the rest of this entry »