Welcome to my blog. Thank you for reading.
I’m sure that many of you are asking the same questions that I have asked at times, ” Who are you and why should I read your blog???”
I’m just a woman trying to learn how to live the life of my dreams, and I’m aware that after reading my writings you might think I’m arrogant, or silly, or just downright stupid. For a long time, the thought of not being accepted has stopped me from doing the one thing that I love to do most: write.
You know what I realized, though? One day I’m going to die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe ninety years from now. And nothing anyone thought about anything I did will matter. What will matter is whether I lived my life doing what I thought was best.
So I think it’s best that I write this blog…
Where This Comes From
In about January 2010, after yet another break-up with a man I thought I was going to marry, I had a major breakdown. Nothing in my life made sense any more. I didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. I was crying every day. Over something. Over nothing… I felt like I was just floating in the middle of a vast ocean.
I really don’t know how I made it through that time, but about a year later, in January 2011, I realized that I had made it through the hardest year of my life without dying and so I decided that it might be worth the effort to learn how not to cry every day, since I was gonna be here for a while.
I told a good friend of mine that I was going to do a self-experiment with becoming un-depressed, and he suggested that I write about it while I’m going through it, noting that most people forget what it was like over here when they get to the other side of happy. Sounded good to me, so for a while I did that. I wrote my friend a journal-esque entry every day about my adventures in not crying. That worked out at first, but then it didn’t. So I stopped. In the meantime I learned some things…
We write in our journals and hide them in the deepest, darkest places, closets, drawers, even under our beds, pretending all the while that we don’t want anyone to read them, when truly it is the only thing we really want. For someone to care. For someone to clean out the drawers and find out who we really are…
Why This Comes
My hope for this blog is that it will help. Both you and I. I think the world will be a better place when people can be honest about who they are and get over this notion that we have to be ashamed of the struggles we have been through. We’ve all had issues and oftentimes, our struggles are the greatest catalysts for our forward transformations.
It makes me happy to share my life with others and feel connected to people, and, since I mostly eat dinner by myself these days, I hope that I can come home and tell you how I’m doing. Your interest helps me to be accountable for continuing on an authentic path of integrity …
Structure
This blog started out with two categories, but has since evolved to many sections. It starts with “How Not to Cry Every Day Then”, which are the original writings I sent to my friend when I embarked on this adventure in January 2011, and “How Not to Cry Every Day and then Some”, which are written in real-time. It then continues on to “How to Live With Integrity” “How to Blossom” and on. The topics change as major shifts are made in my life and the current topic is “The Initiation”.
It is organized by days. Although the most current blog is on the top of the page, the story begins with Day 1, and I invite you to read whatever interests you. I started off writing an entry every day, but I have stopped crying every day a while ago, so now I just write when I am inspired, but they are still numbered by days. Every blog heading is titled with something I learned on that particular day, and they are in order from Day 1 until Day…
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There is a place in the in between. The space between a thought and an action. The space where you know that the thought you just thought will come to pass. Insha’ Allah this is going to be good…
Welp. Here we are. Navigating. Much has happened. I can’t tell if I’m procrastinating or just needing to sort things out. Feeling Low. Much has happened. Much always happening… I am trying to get in touch with my feelings. Trying to get in touch with my needs. Trying to get in touch with my North Star.
Trying to find the deeper place to navigate this life from. Not feeling anything. Many opportunities abound. In the heal the world country… I have so many feelings going on.
I am tempted. To do something else. I don’t feel good after meeting with the particular person that I just met with. I don’t like him that much. I do, but I don’t. Safety not there. Energy usually not quite right. I spoke with a family member today. A family member calling another family member evil for something I deemed quite trivial. This family member used to do the same kind of thing to me. Call me evil. The sentiment feels so painful to me.
So what I am tempted to do is go to some book or some program or some person to tell me what to do. To tell me what to feel right now. To tell me what I’m supposed to focus on. To tell me what’s supposed to be important to me.
What do you feel, Laydie? I can see that you feel lost. Laydie, what do you feel? I can see that you feel confused. What do you feel, Laydie? I can see that you feel like a non-entity.
I feel like I am missing myself. Not really knowing who I am these days. Something inside has been shifted and upgraded. I want to run away. Watch a movie with a friend. Find anything to do but be present in my work. Should I do my forgiveness work today? Should I set an intention for my life through Feminine Power? Should I complete the tasks in Positive Intelligence about action? Should I read the Quran or Oneness and see what there is to see? Should I focus on the Positive Intelligence task of “harmony” this week and just keep accepting and applying harmony? Should I go and take a spiritual bath and try and see how I can get clean water to come out of my bathtub in this hotel?
I want to run and hug somebody to be honest. I want to be held more than anything. I want to be going somewhere together with someone I Love. I want an easy time. I feel so very sad when I stop and think about it and not even quite sure where the sadness is really coming from.
Rooted deep in me for a long, long time. We’ve been on a ten year journey here with this blog. Have I learned how not to cry every day? Have I made it to the other side of happy? I’ve had a major health crises, almost died three times… my colleague just woke up looking for some emotional labor… I have a colleague out here. That’s another story… He distracts me whenever he comes around, but he always comes around. Literally shows up at my hotel and messages me telling me he’s downstairs. So let me see if it’s possible for me to focus when he’s around or if I need to go upstairs and boot him out. God, is it possible for me to focus when he’s around and not pick up his super hyper anxious tense needy energy? How can this dance be harmonious without me losing power? Almost impossible is the answer, but not completely impossible.
– Grow your energy field. Be ok with radiating your energy field. Do chapter four from Feminine Power this week. Get in touch with Keita. Get in touch with your counselor. Go down the list, Laydie. You know what to do. You know what to do. You know what to do. Now do it. You can do it. I promise you can do it. It’s not as difficult as you think. Tell your friend he should have some fun before he leaves.
That is what is missing from your life. Pure, unadulterated fun… My friend just called me and I realized I had been distracting myself just as I wrote pure unadulterated fun… I am out of sink again, but this is kind of fun. Just being aware of when I am out and when I am in sink. Now I am coming closer to my core as I am writing. And this writing is a tool. “Get what you need” is the whispering thought. Apply the tools.
I am wanting to know if I’ve done anything good, Allah. I am wanting to know if I’ve learned anything. I am wanting you to tell me that I’ve done a good job and that I’m OK. I am wanting to feel Loved. I am wanting to do life “with” someone who doesn’t beat me down. Someone who is feeding me. Someone who I can have fun with and go deep with and someone who I can be myself with? I really really miss my old friends. I feel a bit ashamed writing these things. Wondering how long I’m going to miss my old friends and what I’m going to do about it. Wondering how long I will be in this emotional state. And wondering if I’ve changed any. If I’ve grown any. If anything has changed since starting this blog almost ten years ago.
Have I made it to the other side of happy? Do I know what to do now? Do I need books and people and programs to guide me everywhere all the time? Let’s take account.
I do believe that when I started this blog, I had just come back from Colorado. From moving in with some guy who said he wanted to marry me. I had just finished grad school (kind of) was working on my thesis, was trying to be a screenwriter, and had a really good upwardly mobile job at a production company. The guy lived far away. My job made him feel insecure because I was interfacing with fine, rich celebrities daily. I wanted to be with him. Didn’t want to go another day without him. And so I moved. Quit my job. Went to a dark house in Colorado. Violated my values and lost touch with who I am… Finally, when I got sick of it all, I ran away. Back to LA. My sister bought me a Greyhound ticket. My mom let me use some hotel points. I stayed in the hotel for a few days till I found a room. It was nice and temporary. Then another room, nice and temporary, too. Then another room. Not so nice. An attic. Cold. Mean. Met another man. Dream Lover. Finicky. Fell in love with his promises. Said he would go to the end of the Earth for me, but didn’t see him for two years, though he’d call sporadically… Nine years after he finally ghosted me after planning to go look at houses, I found out he was married the whole time.
Sometime during the beginning of our “courtship”, I started this blog. I had finally gotten an apartment after renting rooms. My life was quite a mess. I am so embarrassed about how my life has been, but I must say, I have indeed come a long way… My life was a mess. My inside life has been a mess. What is the difference between now and then? The biggest difference is that I feel again. Maybe it sounds small, but it is huge for me. I am in my body again. I have been away from my body for a long, long, long, long time…
I have been at the effect of so much for a long, long, long, long time… And so I guess the biggest thing that has happened in the past ten years is that I have finally gotten in touch with some of the dynamics of the relationships that I have. It has been a painstaking process. I have been bumping my head over and over again trying to get somewhere that I hadn’t even defined. Maybe a place called OK, not even knowing what OK felt like or looked like. I am so sorry for so many of us with so much suffering in the world…
But the questions remain: Have I made it to the other side of happy? Have I learned how not to cry every day? And what has my progress been in life since writing this blog?
Let’s start with the first question. Have I made it to the other side of happy? I wish I could say yes or no. But both. Yes, I have. I have come out from under the deep, dank spell of depression that has been the greater part of my life. The journey has been heart wrenching, though, and I’ve lost so many friends and distanced myself from people I love because I couldn’t figure out how to be around them without feeling used and/or abused.
Random thought: I actually met one single guy in this place. I’ve been approached by so many men since I’ve been here, and I was thinking they’ve all been married, but there has actually been one single guy who has approached me. And he actually lives in this hotel. And I actually really Love his energy, although there’s not much else I like about him. But I digress…
The second part of the question is no. I’m not feeling completely happy yet. I feel more sad and full of grief than anything, although I’ve probably had more moments of bliss and ease in the last year alone than the past fifteen years of my life compounded. And so, even though I am not the happiest I can be yet, it is as if lifetimes and layers of such profound pain that I’ve been living with are finally being released. Ease and goodness are ideas for me now, but they have been taking their time to manifest as real pillars in my life. So… The answer to the question is yes. Yes, I have made it to the other side of happy. The happy side where I don’t cry every Blessed day. But I’ve just crossed over. And this blog has been helpful. It is my self-therapy. It is where I cry and process and put things in their place and evaluate and celebrate and make meaning. And I am grateful for these words…
I just heard someone ask me in my mind why I don’t have a man…
So, on to the next question. Have I learned how not to cry every day? Yes! Absolutely. I think I might have to make a cry journal. I’m pretty sure that I spent the greater part of January without crying a single day. And for February, I was very busy and out of touch with my emotions, but still, I was not overwhelmed with crying like how I have been before. And even now, as I slow down and process and feel my feelings deeply, the crying is not like a quicksand puddle being stepped into. It is more like a shower or bath, washing and washing away. The tears feel cleansing, not binding…
And lastly, what has my progress been in life since writing this blog? I am trying to assess whether I have actually made any progress since writing this blog or if I have just been going through motions of progress without any real inner transformation. The answer is, yes, I have made massive projects and major shifts and me taking time to be aware of and feel my feelings has contributed greatly. What is the progress? Firstly, I no longer feel like I have so many hooks in my back. I’m just going to write it like I feel it. I didn’t know it and other people didn’t know it either, but I had been stuck wanting and needing others’ approval for so mach in the past, and so moored in fear and trauma, that I wouldn’t take any real steps towards moving forward in life. I’ve started respecting myself and demanding respect. It is such a huge leap and I’ve lost many friends because of it. I had created a whole relational matrix where people felt it was ok to just use me and not really pay attention to my needs or values. I had dated so many men who cheated on me or abused me or didn’t listen when I talked or treated my like shit and violated me in the worst of ways. I had put others’ needs and wants ahead of my own for a very long time with very little appreciation or acknowledgement and, well, I don’t do that anymore. I had been trying to behave in certain ways so people would approve of me for so long, and I finally cut it out. It’s been messy, but it’s been the best thing that has happened to me since starting this blog. I’ve cut chords of pain. Wounds still remain, but the draining, dulling agreements that I’ve made with so many over the course of lifetimes are over. I no longer date unavailable men. I tell them no. I no longer work on teams that have no sincere energetic reciprocity. I’m not interested, unless I just feel like doing charity for some reason, but even that, I do on purpose.
I assess friendships and relationships for character compatibility. I’m still getting better at it, but I’m kinder with myself and kinder with others and I have even learned these concepts which was heretofore foreign to me: boundaries and letting go. I’m a bit excited about what all this growth means and could mean for me. It’s a lot of progress. Lifetimes of progress. Generational progress. I have a farm in the heal the world country. It’s been hard as hell to get it started, but alas, it exists. I just got invited to do a dream job in this same country.
I want to be held. That is the final point of all this. I got down to it. I’m proud of myself. I didn’t have to read a book or go to a person or do whatever Feminine Power exercise to understand this about myself. I want to be held. I want to hold someone. I want to know what Love is. I want to Love something with all my heart and not have it hurt me – at least not too much and at least not on purpose most of the time.
You say pour all this Love into everything I do. Be kind. And forgive everything all the time. I have learned about boundaries. I have done a good job at pushing away energy thieves. They don’t come my way anymore. Practice Love. Kiss each cell of yours and wash it into Love. Practice Love… Ameen.
Day 548
A Place Called OK (Practice Love)
I wanted to say I don’t know what to write about, but the Truth is, I do. The bigger truth is that I don’t want to know what to write about because it feels scary and I’m not sure what to say about it. The second part is not so true, either. I am sure what to say about it, but I feel afraid to say it, because once I say it to the world, it becomes real to me.
I woke up this morning with Love on the mind. Love has been on the mind for some time now. My inability to feel it. My heart has been breaking and breaking and breaking open and I am beginning to feel good feelings again. I hesitate to embrace them out of fear that if I open up to the world and make myself vulnerable, I will be stabbed in the heart and get sick again and almost die and be paralyzed/debilitated with nobody believing or understanding how sick I really am and nobody there to help me without hurting me, too and experience a pain that I just don’t want to feel anymore.
So there you have it. That’s why I feel hesitant to talk about Love. Asshole past traumas… The traumas and their cohorts of false personality saboteurs – the avoider, the controller and the pleaser – took a break last night while I was asleep. They have been taking breaks here and there and in their absence, my mind has wandered into possibilities. Possibilities of being OK for real. (It just dawned on me that I’m going to treat myself, and at least one other person, with the most exquisite Love these next two weeks in preparation for Valentine’s Day. But I digress..) Possibilities of having. “It’s OK to be OK” has been a mantra of mine. I have begun thinking about men. And analyzing my life. On one of my favorite TV shows, the main character, a single woman around my age, has been struggling with Love for many years. This season, which is the last season of the show, the show creators are going to focus on her grounding. Finding her place in the world. Like, being balanced and OK.
What a concept. We have been suffering and hurting and disappointed and heartbroken for so long. In a perpetual tornado. So much so, that we don’t even dare to dream of what we really want. We don’t even dare to think it’s possible for us, because if we do, we risk the heartbreaking disappointments and agonies that we’ve felt before. If you’ve ever had your body break down, then your cells know that too much or too little whatever will make you not work. Will have you not able to think. Or walk. Or talk correctly. Will have you in perpetual pain… So, we have been here. In these caves.
And, we don’t do it on purpose, but in our choices, we find ways to stay in the cycles, so that we don’t have to face the possibility or re-experiencing our traumas. We never quite follow through with the steps that would give us a breakthrough in our dream career and instead dedicate our time and energy towards jobs we think we can succeed at. We keep dating the same type of person over and over again. You know, that person we don’t really like, but feel like they won’t hurt us? The one we’re not really into. We tense up a bit on the inside every time he touches us and there’s always a little dying of ourselves when partnering with him on stuff. We forget about passion and integrity, because at least he doesn’t hurt us. Not that much.
I’ve been thinking about men, and that’s what Spirit told me to write about this morning when I woke up. Spirit told me to write a Love letter to myself. I’m overseas and outside of my window is literally the Atlantic ocean. I hear it’s waves daily. And when the sunrises, I hear roosters crow and birds chirp. I am rich now. I don’t feel afraid to say that out loud (even though my bank account doesn’t reflect as much), because I know it’s possible for me to work and earn money and be rich. I’ve done it before without too much pain. And now I choose to focus on it. Life is just easier when you can have the foods you need and live in the environments that are nourishing. Financial freedom for myself, and then helping others get financially free so that they, too, can have time and space to align with the truth of who they are…
Anyway. I left for a while while writing this and surfed the internet. Can you tell that this is challenging for me to write about? Facing all these doggone demons. So Love. Men. Heartbreak. Disappointment. Redundant patterns. Aging. How am I still single? Will I be able to have kids? I stopped dreaming of those things. Well, actually I didn’t stop dreaming. The dream just became a dream. Something somewhere far away from me. Somewhere in my subconscious, I stopped believing a long, long time ago. My Loves just kept hurting me. My first Love disappeared. I didn’t know that that’s not what you’re supposed to do. My brother did it when I was younger. Just stopped talking to me and acted like I didn’t exist because I kissed a boy and he thought I was bad. He was my best friend before he started believing I was evil. That hurt me so bad. Do you know I’ve been living with that wound for so, so long?
I’m still mad at him. Kind of want to punch him in the face. He grew up to be an emotionally abusive jerk and bully. I grew up to be a bully, too. So there you have it. I wanted to write about Love, but I guess I had to start there. With my first real heartbreak and betrayal. A compounded trauma. A kiss followed by a secret shared followed by being rejected and shunned by the person I shared my secret with, followed by being rejected by my kisser and punished by my mom. And painted as “bad” for the rest of my adolescent and young adult life.
This is the foundation that I built my romantic Love life on. Some unhealed bullshit and dysfunctional pattern. And mostly, my relationships have been the same as the first. Intense connection followed by rejection because of some aspect of me deemed as quite horrible. Not quite horrible in and of itself, but quite horrible if I do it. So how to change a whole lifetime of debilitating patterns? How to reconcile and heal? And the final question, how to finally have relationships with men that aren’t rooted in betrayal and usury… how to have relationships where people like and value me and treat me with respect and I like and value them and treat them with respect?
It’s time for major transformation. The good news is, I am able now. I feel able to face the dark things and not die. I feel able to keep myself safe. For the past few months, over and over again, I have been confronting abuse. I have been leaving situations where I feel disrespected or not liked or not appreciated or not celebrated, or just judged too harshly and unfairly… Where the expectation has been that I will give and be a support at all costs, and in exchange I will be punished and despised if I don’t do what is wanted of me how it is wanted and when it is wanted. It’s been pretty bad. This relationship matrix founded on this false identity of “I’m bad. I’m not good enough. I don’t matter. I deserve to be punished.” That is what my life has reflected.
I’m finally seeing it. Calling bullshit bullshit and seeing how I perpetuate and create these experiences. So, step one was to extract myself from all the situations that just didn’t feel good. Y’all, I’ve been fighting for my life. I’m proud of me. Because it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had to let go of so many relationships. People I’ve been walking with in life for so long. And it was hard. And I was scared. And I was so super lonely afterwards. And hurt feeling. And I won’t say I don’t feel lonely or hurt still, but the difference now is that it feels like a scab healing, instead of an open wound constantly being poked. The difference now is that I see and feel myself healing. Like, my brain feels air in it and parts of my body that have been constantly tightened up for longer than I can remember are now starting to relax. When my brother yells at me or verbally assaults, I push back or leave. When others take advantage of my kindness or don’t treat me with respect, I acknowledge my feelings and have conversations, and if behavior is not changed, I separate myself from the abuse. I am learning to forgive and not judge so much. We are all working through our own traumas and trauma responses.
And I don’t even understand anymore, how I could have been in so many bad relationships. I want to throw up thinking of all the things I’ve put myself through. I’m sorry, Laydie. Please forgive me. I didn’t know. These concepts of honoring myself and valuing myself and respecting myself are all new. I didn’t know. But I know now. I can’t tell you why all of this happened. I can’t tell you why bad things happen to good people. I could make up a meaning, but it would be made up, you see. I could say you were learning this or that or there was some divine decree or karma you are paying for or life you were preparing for – learning compassion or nonjudgement or disattachment so you could be a great leader… but it’s all made up. Choose the meaning that helps you be in peace, Laydie. Choose the meaning that moves you towards Love.
Choose to believe in Love now. Now we can talk about Love. And this is a long blog. But I’m going to push through it and write down these things on my Soul. Love. I want to forgive my brother for the painful seed he planted many years ago when he called me “bad” and the actions he’s perpetuated over the years to validate his thoughts of me. Even if he meant it. If he tried to hurt me on purpose. I’m just a little sick of him having power over me and even more sick of sitting by while men destroy the world. I know that’s extreme, but we women have become so complicit. We watch men burn down the world and even help them, hoping they will love us for our sacrifice. I’m a bit over it. I do believe I will stand up to bro now. All my family wants his approval. Because our dad is dead and he is next in line. But his approval sometimes comes at very extreme costs of self-approval… So anyway, I’ll stand up to him now. Not to bring him down. To lift him. That is the secret of the Light warriors. The fight is for lifting up, not breaking down. So I will do that, God, and I know you will show me the way. You are showing me already. Forgiveness and Love.
And today I thought about men. On an online video I watched, someone asked, “Would you date yourself?” My answer to myself was no. Why? I have too many boyfriends and I’m too busy “working”. So, a few days ago, I decided it was finally time. It’s been me all this time. I keep meeting unavailable men, but you know why? I’ve been unavailable. Not wanting to be vulnerable for real. I’m ready now. The thought makes me feel afraid, but I will keep thinking it until I’m not afraid of it. I’m ready to be available. This means I can’t be all caught up in my mind with men who I’ll never be with. When I say I have too many boyfriends, I don’t literally mean I have too many boyfriends, but I do mean that there are too many open doors in my life, either emotionally or in real time, that I’m holding onto. How could I love someone or be with someone when I spend Monday mornings going walking on beach with some guy who wants to be with me and whom I don’t want, and then I spend Tuesdays chatting on the phone all day with some other guy who I really like, but who doesn’t like me, and then I dream about whoever whom I liked way back when and made a promise to be with way back when whom I’m still holding out for. Then somebody’s husband who has a crush on me is still inviting me out to dinner hoping I’ll have an affair with him, and I’m eating the food ‘cus it’s free and tastes good…
And going out on dates with guys whom I know from day one I don’t want to be with… These are not actions that make me available to being with the Love of my life. These are actions that cloud up my focus. And when I woke up this morning, Spirit told me to dream. Write a letter to myself. Imagine what it would be like to wake up hearing the ocean breeze and have someone with you. Someone you Love. Someone who lights your fire. Imagine this was possible.
So here we go. What would he say to you? I don’t even know what it’s like, God. It has been so rare that I’ve been in a mutual moment of Love and care with a man. It has been so rare that I’ve been present and he’s been present at the same time and we’re not hurting each other. So let’s start.
Good morning, Laydie. I know you feel afraid to turn towards me. You think this is too good to be true and that I’ll turn around and leave you or cheat on you or betray you. Not put you first. Not invite you somewhere. Save all my smiles for someone else. Be mad if you’re doing good. Ask you to give all your energy and attention to me. Not answer your calls or talk through challenges. I know that you feel like I can’t hold the sadness you’ve been through, and maybe I can’t. But I can help you let it go. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ve made up my mind about you. It’s you. It’s you for me. And I’m not going anywhere. There are no women in my life that I’m bound to, that I need to check permission from before putting you first. I have done my work and let them all go. I have healed so many things and I’ve been making a space for you. I know you don’t want to believe it, and you don’t have to. I’m going to show you.
I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of all your healing. I’m so proud of all the work you’ve been doing. You don’t have to do it on your own anymore. You don’t have to be the leader of everything any more. I will help you in the ways you need and I won’t hurt you as compensation. And you don’t have to do anything. I already know about your loyalty. I already know about your sweet heart. You already inspire me with your talent, grace and femininity. With your ambition and your reasons underneath. I am honored to help you. It’s not true. It’s not true that you won’t be able to find a good man if you are too smart or if you do too much in the world. I Love that you have your own thing going on. I Love that you’re smart, because I’m smart, too, and we can talk about things together and I can count on you to solve problems with me.
But this morning, before you go out for the day, before we get started, can I hold you? I just want to hold you. Even if you feel afraid to turn towards me just now, can I hold you from the back? Please? Can I touch those places on your skin that have never been touched with Love? Please? Let me touch your lower back. I won’t hurt you, Laydie. I promise. Not on purpose. Tell me, OK? Tell me if something bothers you and we will talk through things and work through things. And I will be a safe space for you. I know, you can’t believe all this without experience. So, for today, on this sweet, sweet Saturday, in a room overlooking the ocean, let me just hold your back. Let me just touched that spot that feels so wounded so that it can know the energy of Love. Will you be willing, please? That’s all you need. That’s all I need. At your own pace. It’s ok if you make mistakes. But just be willing, again and again and again. Be choosing again and again and again. At your own pace. Be willing, be choosing to know, to receive and to give the energy of Love.
Have a Blessed day. Ameen.
Day 547
The Mens (The Energy of Love)
What can I complete today? Sometimes I feel like a fraud. Others look at me and think I’m doing much, but I look within myself and still feel like there is still so much unfinished business.
I won’t write too long here. I suppose I could just go down the list of unfinished business and finish one thing out a day. I’ve been saying that for too long. I don’t know what’s the deal that I sabotage just as I come close to the last step that will break through everything for me.
I’m so close to so many breakthroughs. And I went to sleep yesterday. Froze on some momentum that I was having. On purpose. Because I was scared. When I had my big epiphany, I thought of making a small documentary, and then doing a training for my team where we learned how to harvest cacao and learned how to make chocolate, and I thought about packing up and leaving this hotel and heading off to this place where I had done a yoga retreat… But then I got scared. I got scared of being a woman and being out in this retreat space by myself in this country… Being by yourself here is different than being by yourself in the US…
I wanted my business partner/mom to be here to join me in the cacao harvest and chocolate training, but she won’t be able to travel due to prior commitments and also due to a recent travel ban where she is. And I don’t have any teammates to do the small documentary with. Sure, I could make new friends and teammates and learn to do things by myself here, but I don’t want to.
You know, we have this narrative. People of my race and gender. We have this “Do it all by yourself” narrative. We are proud of it. Proud that we can overcome all manner of obstacle and do things all by ourselves. But we are not happy with it. At least I’m not. I am not happy in the narrative of the singular warrior woman who does everything alone and defeats all odds. It’s no fun for me. Been there done that. What is fun for me is what is fun. Facing challenges with people you care about. Bonding. Overcoming. Celebrating one another and making it all fun as you go along. Seeing ideas become reality. Loving. I know my farm and creative projects are not just for me. They are for the people and the world I’m serving, but I am so over this idea of being a martyr…
I do indeed need to reevaluate everything. Kind of just put my whole used to be identity on the side of the road and ask God what it is now… The good news is, although I have negative feelings and thoughts, I don’t feel overtaken by them these days. This month has been a hell horse.
What I’d like to do now is get back to doing the work. The work I didn’t do before. Like, the stuff. The unfinished business that has been here all along. It looks ugly and hard and sometimes I just go to sleep instead of doing it. I don’t know why. For once, though, I’m going to give up making meaning of this resistance.
Start over. Start again. Celebrate the wins. There have been many wins. Reach out now. It’s time to reach out. I can do it. I know it seems scary. There’s not even much reaching that needs to be done. People are willing. Let me be willing, too. Let me be willing to receive and Trust. Even if I don’t know how stuff is going to happen…
What’s the next step? Make a commitment. Put a stake in the ground. Do it now. Do it now. Do it now. You owe it to yourself. I know it has been hard. I know you feel like a fake. I know you think it’s not possible. I know you don’t always understand and it’s easier to just not face everything and go to sleep or play your life away or do the things that you know you can do, even if they don’t really do anything for your inner goodness. I know. Trust me, I know that all these things that happened to us hurt so bad… I know. I know how frustrating it is to want to be a way or want to do a thing and just not be able to do it, for whatever reason. I know what it is to feel betrayed and unloved and unaccepted and abused and unworthy and not able to be yourself without backlash and judged and etc, etc. All that sh*t. I know.
But what we gonna do about it? We just gonna be sad forever? And beat down and broken and stuck on our beds or stuck in these redundant dysfunctional relationships? We just gonna have all these cool ideas that we never implement on? We just gonna have this “life is hard and then you die” story forever? Baloney. Pure absolute baloney.
You’ve done well, OK? Don’t get down on yourself. You have done so well. You are doing a great job. I know in your culture they teach you that it’s not ok to celebrate. That it will make you weak if you do so. But we are laying all that down today. Your entire identity before this moment. What it means to be a woman and what it means to be your race and your age and to have your past and your ambitions. We are laying it down to the dust and thanking it all for bringing us here to this breakthrough point. And we are committing now. Today. I am committing to Being the Truth of who I am. Even if I don’t know what that means yet. I am committed to finding out. I accept my Strength at last. I accept my Power at last. I accept my Brilliance at last. I accept my Redemption at last.
So all those things? You know what they are. You have the list in your mind. It’s been running for quite some time. Let’s get them done. Just commit to it. Get them all done. So that’s it. One a day. Yep. I said it. I’m committing to it. One a day. One completion a day. Even if it’s a tiny, small task that’s been giving me anxiety for decades… That is my action commitment. So getting offline. Taking my life serious now. I know it’s all been so much bullshit. I know a lot of bad stuff happened. But I’m still here. I’d like a new experience now….
Ameen.
Day 546
Commitments and Completions
I’ve been struggling. Struggling is an understatement. I’ve been unable to write anything for about a month. My grandma died. Just about a month ago…
Everything changed. Just like that. A lot surrounded her death. Extended family issues. She was robbed six days before her death and the security cameras went out. My mom couldn’t come to see her immediately because she had some urgent commitment that she couldn’t get out of. No one knew she was going to die. I thought it might happen. When the security cameras went out. I thought anything might happen when the cameras went out.
I feel guilty. Like I should have done more than I did. Most of my family didn’t think it was urgent for anything to be done, because, why would they? My grandma had family around her and she had people staying with her. And there was another family funeral right on the day that my grandma got robbed. So no one was really pressed to file police reports or set-up a new security camera system. But I felt it. I felt danger and urgency in my Spirit. I did some things. Asked folks to go by the house. I didn’t ask everyone, though. I asked two people. I wanted to ask three, but family doesn’t like the third person I wanted to ask. He’s probably the only one who would have done something, though.
The other two people whom I had asked to check on grandma didn’t go. They didn’t know she was going to die, either. Nobody really thought that my grandma could die. She had just been alive for so long and seemed immovable.
But alas, she’s dead. Her cause of death is unknown. They put “cancer” on her death certificate – she never had cancer… They had their reasons and explanations. Said she died of natural causes.
My mom is heartbroken. Feeling guilty for things she shouldn’t feel guilty for. Our matriarch is gone. It’s all my mom has wanted to do these past two years of her life – take care of her mom.
My grandma and mom were the chords that kept us connected to this heal the world country. With her death, I wasn’t sure if I would continue my endeavors here. I wasn’t sure how she died or what she died of. I’m still not. Her two present children refused to get an autopsy done. I’m curious about her cause of death, but just the thought of investigating her death offends people, so I let those thoughts go… My family decided to at least file a police report against the cook who robbed her, and me and my cousin did that last week. Confessions popped up even before the report was filed.
Anxiety has been on ten. I hide out in a hotel room and eat breakfast with the staff. Men approach me daily, but most are not giving. They are looking to take, bargaining. Seeing massive opportunity. Love is not a thought. A sweet, young guy who is interested in giving comes to mind. I just messaged him. That would be a real trip. If I married a youngin’ almost half my age who has never been out of this heal the world country and has no clue about the western life… He’s nice and he likes books. Cut from a different cloth. Interested in integrity, but in this society, I’m a privileged girl…
It’s quite interesting, actually, to be privileged. You think differently. I’m not privileged in America. I’m the opposite. Pressed down upon. Just thinking of survival. But here, I’m rich. I stay in hotels where the president’s possee stay. I interface with ambassadors and honorable this’s and excellency that’s and celebrities. My grandma has a big ol’ house in the neighborhood where the governor lives. I drive a car, which is a big deal for anyone here, much less a woman. I spend two weeks’ worth of the average person’s salary on a single meal. It’s cheap by American standards. Actually, not so cheap, but average. About $15. But that’s about two weeks worth of pay for someone here. It’s quite interesting. It’s like those rich people in America who will spend about $500 on a meal. That’s the equivalent. Or maybe even more… I don’t actually have a bunch of money in my bank account, but when I conceive of a project or a mission here, I’ve been able to tell colleagues, family, acquaintances, investors about it, and they believe in the project’s potential, and they’ve been willing to sponsor me so that I can get things done and not have to suffer too much while doing it… I recognize that the people who live like this in America are the extremely privileged. They are able to sit down in their day and think about what they want to do with their lives… I could complain about so much all day long, and believe you me I’m about to do some complaining, but I also must acknowledge the massive good that is my life. I have sisters and brothers and other family members who love me daily.
I’ve lost my best friend and other friendships this year, and my “withs” have all together disappeared, and that saddens me so much, but I’ve also had friends and support from places I never imagined.
So there is much going on in my mind. I’ve felt afraid to face it all. Somehow I face it all when I write here. I had this big vision this morning about this fantastic new year I was going to have, but when I said the vision out loud, it disappeared and doubt and fear replaced it.
I don’t know what to do about my extended family. It’s all a big mess. There is no one to lead. My mom is heartbroken. So many are heartbroken and trust is nowhere to be found. My mom was the leader. I would be the one to take up what she left behind, if anyone was to take it up. But I don’t feel particularly fit or able or interested to be honest. There’s just so much trauma and drama and danger and hurt. I don’t even know where to begin with it all.
Then there’s my business and the creative things that I endeavor to do in the world. Not sure if any of it makes sense any more. A part of me thinks, “Who cares”. It has been the bane of my existence. This super deep thinking. Someone told me that I think too much.
I want to find my place in the world. Sometimes I feel like I know it, but when I say it out loud, it just sounds so ludicrous that I won’t say it.
I would be lying if I said that I cared about healing the world or even healing myself or being famous or having a bunch of money. I know I’m supposed to say I care about all those things, but at the moment, I really don’t. I wish I had some friends to bond with. I wish we could just hash it out, every single thing, and get over everything until there was really nothing but Love and goodwill between us. I wish there was nothing that they wanted from me that I wasn’t giving and there was nothing that I wanted from them that they weren’t giving. Friends. Family. A Lover. I wish I could forgive and feel good. I wish all my thinking so much would lead to something. I wish there were people who understood me for real. Like, for real for real. I wish I could hug somebody for days and days and days and they would hug me back for days and days and days and not go anywhere and just love me while they can.
I’m glad I finally got to a good place with my mom. We finally are good with each other for real. I feel the deep Love. And it’s getting there with other family members. Not so much with friends. Still not clean energy with everyone.
God told me to come back to the world today. I know it sounds weird to say God told me anything. It’s all make believe. This whole world. It’s just a bunch of stories and agreements that we have. We make it up. These systems. These cultures. The system that says God controls stuff. The system that says there is no God. We find ways to make sense of so much that we don’t understand. Some things can be proven. There are some one plus one science stuff that helps…
I digressed again, researching the science behind vitamins. I’m gonna finish this posting, because it’s been at least a month since I’ve finished writing anything… A part of me feels absolutely terrified to face the world. A part of me feels so, so alone and unable. A part of me believes that I need a person, a “with”, someone to come home to to make any movement. A part of me just wants to be held and let someone else do this life stuff for me. A. part of me doesn’t want to stop crying every day – ‘cus I ain’t stopped crying yet. A part of me is uncertain about everything and feels sorry for myself. With all this potential, how did I end up like this, with so much sadness in my mind? When does it get better? Will I ever just be ok inside? Like OK OK? All the way OK? Who is OK? Is anyone OK OK???? Or are we just masking things and coping?
A part of me misses the days when I was too naive to notice the shitty shit I was living through. I was OK then. I just had no idea about how bad off some things were and it was fine with me. I laughed and smiled from my heart and I didn’t hate anyone. And I wasn’t mad at anyone, except my brother, who had betrayed and abandoned me.
So how do we move through this, Allah? How do I get out of this room and into the world? How do I be safe in the world? What if no one ever comes to save me and hold me? How do I get over whatever else is in me that is so lonely and sad?
The answer that comes in, that has come in for so long, is that I’m going to have to do the work. Just do it. Oh, it hurts to even write that. Like, for real. My whole body swells up with anxiety. But it has to get done… I just started taking action – I booked a room in a new lodging tomorrow – and all mu visions turned to ash. My body froze up.
I’m wondering if I should finish writing this blog or book a ticket to my safe place (prison) in LA ASAP… God says I have to evolve. There’s no way out or around it. I have to evolve. Should I finish this blog or run somewhere? I have to evolve. My head literally hurts. Things stuck in my throat. Overload on the shoulders. Wonder if it’s demons. There’s no hot water where I’m going. Maybe it’s the wrong choice. No room for doubt. Lord, give me a clear answer.
DO THE WORK yells loudly in my soul. Don’t talk to sh*t f*ck else person till you do the work. This is not a punishment. It is training. It is discipline at last. Do the God d*mn work. It doesn’t always feel good. You’ve known the answer for quite some time. You know what to do and you will be ok when you do it. It won’t feel good at first because it’s different. Let. That. Shit. Go.
Stop procrastinating by writing. Do the work. Now. Offline you go. Toodles.
I Love you… Mwa.
Day 545
Do The Work
Y’all. I’m procrastinating. Well, not all the way procrastinating. Somewhat. Yeah, procrastinating. If I take one more step, this will all be over. It’s already over. I’ve been trying to hide from my destiny, but it keeps finding me. I asked for it, but I don’t know how to have it. Except that’s not true. That’s just what I’m used to saying.
I do know how to have it. I’m having it now. Nobody has liked my recent posts… Can I tell you what has happened? So much has happened. So much always happens. First, I’ll start with today. I have a profile on a dating app. This year has been the shits with dating. I have literally had three proposals this year, which isn’t bad. But two of them pulled out and left me high and dry. My year started off fighting one guy that I thought I was going to marry. We were fighting bc he was visiting Cali for the first time, visiting me, and he didn’t want to go to a New Year’s party with me. He didn’t want to do much with me at all. Just wanted to sit at home all day and talk to his friends on the phone. So, yeah, that was that. We were talking about getting married, even got a marriage license, but he pulled out after all our fights.
Then, I got whisked away by family. My little sister came into town with her son and shook up the limbo that me and my then roommate were in. Made me realize that the life I was living just wasn’t the answer. I ended up starting off the quarantine single-mother babysitting my nephew for a while, and my nephew is so lovely. I Loved taking care of him and teaching him stuff. I fell in Love with the idea of being a mother. Had never cared much about mothering before. Priorities shifted. Hung out with sis for a while babysitting and had some harsh realizations about our dynamic. Still processing it all, but left heartbroken.
Came back to LA. Didn’t feel welcome at brother’s place. He didn’t say I wasn’t welcome. I just didn’t feel welcome. He frowns and tightens up when I come around. I was in the sunken place and couldn’t handle anything much less than blatantly knowing I’m wanted and loved. I went to my apartment. Sunk more. Didn’t realize that I was actually taking some skin meds whose side effects were “potential suicide and depression”. The side effects were hitting me hard and I ate ice cream every day and cried on the bed for about two and half months straight.
Finally, when my brain just couldn’t get my feet to move off the bed, I thought that maybe I was going crazy and needed to see a doctor. I looked at the meds I was taking. Reread the side effects. Stopped taking them. My brain relaxed a bit. During that time, George Floyd was murdered. The world was in a state of unrest. We were ordered to stay at home. I had already broken up with most of the people I was living life with six months earlier, and I broke up with the last one that month. A friend who also frowns at me more than smiles. I was on my way to see him, wanted to support him at his business, but I didn’t know where he was located. I called him but he didn’t answer. I messaged him asking for the address but he didn’t respond. I was scared, out on these rioting streets. My brain wasn’t working quite right and I had to really breathe hard and concentrate to make sure I was driving ok. Finally, my friend reached out to me and gave me the address. He said he was busy and I should have gotten the address earlier or looked it up online. He saw my message but didn’t respond out of spite. I should have been more responsible, he said. There was no excuse.
It was just a bit too mean for me at the moment. Broke my heart, actually.
And so, broken-hearted I have been. Wounded. I lost interest in frowns. Frankly, I couldn’t bear them anymore. And so I locked myself up in these walls because I just couldn’t see anywhere in the world that was emotionally safe for me. Maybe it was all my fault, but I didn’t know how to fix anything and didn’t have the energy to fix it even if I knew. I just didn’t want anyone to hurt me anymore.
I met a guy. He was cute and sexy. But I was fat now, since I’d been eating ice cream and crying every day for about three months straight. And I was kind of raggedy. My clothes were raggedy. My legs weren’t shaved. My nails weren’t done. He liked me at first, but then he didn’t. He wouldn’t tell me why. I really think it’s because he saw some fat rolls on my back. I forgot that I had fat rolls, and also that there are people who don’t like fat rolls, and I went on a hike with him with my back out, some short pants that showed the bottom of my hairy legs and some raggedy shoes. I couldn’t hold my pee bc my nerves were shot at the moment and I was acting a fool so we could get to the bathroom. He ended the date early. Then I touched him on the back with Love and he froze up. Called the next day and said we should just be friends bc he overestimated our chemistry, but don’t touch him anymore because my hands were magic and he wanted us to be platonic friends. So basically, he didn’t want to date a fat, depressed girl and said we had not enough chemistry and too much chemistry. I was sad bc I was really attracted to him. It was really easy for me to just like the way he moved…
Blah blah blah. A bipolar guy liked me then acted bipolar when I didn’t immediately respond how he wanted. A guy that I met six years ago and lost touch with resurfaced and we met up down South. He was a perfect catch for me. Single, age appropriate, handsome, tall, no kids, owned a house, worked as a social worker, stable secure life… He wanted me to marry him. Move in first or marry first, whatever I wanted. It was the first time in my entire life that I felt like a man had actually chosen me. He had chosen me. I could feel it. There were no hangups. No secret lovers anywhere. No doubts in his mind. I could feel it.
By the time I had met him, though, I had been working with a life coach for about a month. I reached out to her because my life was not what I wanted it to be and I didn’t even know where to start anymore. I had tried doing stuff on my own, but it wasn’t working. My support systems had fallen apart and I wasn’t interested in rebuilding them as they were before. This life coach had suggested that I be selfish. I know some people already think I’m selfish enough, but she told me to be even more selfish. Consider myself. Consider what I like. Consider what’s good for me before I make decisions. So, this guy was great, but he wasn’t good for me. He didn’t frown at me, but he never seemed to really be listening whenever I’d talk. He’d cut me off. He’d belittle my efforts subtly, calling my amazing farm in Africa, the most challenging thing I’d ever done, some “little plants”. He was really concerned about me letting him lead, and I realized I didn’t really trust his leadership and didn’t want to follow him.
I mean, why would a woman want to follow a man who has shown no interest in understanding or respecting her needs and/or wants. He ain’t leading me anywhere I want to go, because he doesn’t even respect or know about where I want to go. So that was that. I declined his proposal and the next day I met another guy.
Within a week, new guy was at my place visiting him. I thought he could have been the one. His energy was electric. But then we fought. More leadership stuff. Wanted me to shut up and do what he said and also wanted to belittle any and of all of my views that weren’t aligned with his. It didn’t work. We disagreed. He left… I’m writing too long, but I’ve been wanting to write this blog for a while. There’s nothing like writing it for me, really. This is my super therapy.
Which brings me to today. My Electric man had really hurt my feelings by leaving. I wanted him to stay. I wanted us to talk and talk through our issues and get to the other side of a thing… But he left. A little over a month ago. My life coach told me to make a choice: Choose to be lit or unlit in life. Stop waffling. Either choose to do stuff that don’t light me up for whatever reason, or choose to gravitate towards and make choices that light me up… It was hard, because there was very little in my life that lit me up at the time. Nothing, to be quite honest. But I chose to be lit, and then I had to look at how dim my life really was. I cried a lot. I’m crying still…
I ran out of money and stopped seeing my life coach, but I had also had a success coach that helps me with business stuff. So I kept doing my business stuff. And, business stuff moved forward. My mom and sis came in town. I hadn’t seen either of them in almost a year. I faced our issues. Resolved many. I can’t even say I resolved them. God did. But I did put in some work in setting good intentions and being cognizant of my projections and doing my best to communicate with Love. I became aware of the issues with me and my brother, and finally this. This is what this blog is about. This is why I started off by saying that no one had liked my posts and why I’m just overflowed right now.
I realized that it could quite possibly be that my brother doesn’t like me. Stay with me. Maybe he does. But maybe he doesn’t. What if? Right? What if he doesn’t? What if there’s just no way that I could be the fullness of myself and my brother would like me? What if he just doesn’t like women who laugh loud? It’s against his religion? Or what if my smells and my sage and incense and whatever else just offend him? What if he always thinks I’m a potential hell monger because my ideology is not his and so he’s not allowed to listen to me, lest I lead him astray? I mean, what if this is just the way it is? What if I just don’t fit in all the way with the fam? What if mom will never accept my lifestyle or religion? What if bro always frowns at me? What if sisters always have an expectation that I can’t meet? What if friends just won’t allow for me not to be ok? Or won’t allow for me to be too ok?
Would I keep going on doing this and that, not doing this and that, showing this and that, not showing this and that, looking for approval? It wasn’t working anyway. Nobody was approving of me anyway. So – and this was just a few days ago, after my brother said I was bringing spider’s to his house because of my body lotion – I decided to stop living for other’s approval. Soften my hands. This is what came to me. Soften my hands. Be aware of the ways I show up. Start approving of myself. I didn’t get it all right. I got some things really wrong. Forgive myself already. I tried. I could stop beating myself up now. I tried. Even in the places I didn’t try, in the places that were intentionally mean, just forgive myself. See if I could look at all the dark places. Could I Love them? Even if nobody liked my blog, could I write it anyway? Tell the truth anyway.
Don’t worry about saving the world or lighting up the world, You say. I was born to be a light-bulb. A transformer. A transmuter and transmitter, like everyone else. Once the light is circulating within me, unimpeded, all of my relations will know. Life takes on a new flavor.
Yesterday, I made an online dating ad. I just told the truth about what I really wanted and what I had to offer. I didn’t even have my picture on the ad. Just had the picture of the back of my bald head. When I tell you that the finest, flyest men I done ever met have responded to that ad???? Ahimsa: absence of injury.
So today, a super-fly, fine man responded to my ad. He wrote: “The power of words… Reading your words… made me like you even though I have no idea what you look like”.
“The power of words” stuck with me. He didn’t know I am a writer. I never really thought of the idea that words could be powerful, especially mine. I hear the energy of my dead dad telling me to move on now. I feel Matsemala telling me that I can move on now. I passed the test. I learned to soften my hands and soften my mind… Use the power of my words now. Own it. Accept it. Make a definite and firm decision to be lit. Accept being lit. Be OK With Being OK. Accept goodness. Accept that you are good. Even with all the shit you’ve done and all that has happened. I forgive you. You didn’t know. You were just trying to get by. I forgive you. And I accept you. Accept you, now. And Thrive.
Ameen.
Day 544
Acceptance
They have a new thing going on with WordPress. Had to switch back to the classic editor cus I ain’t ready for all that.
I just wanted to touch bases with the world. This is my healing. My balancing. My centering. My dance. My gratitude. The roller coaster ride of my life is becoming a river, an easy stream. I am learning to relax into it instead of flailing around with fear. I am learning to surrender and be with ease.
I ate dinner with a friend last night. My People. A giant of a man. A kind, brilliant soul. He is my friend. He has never hurt me and serves as a reference point on how things can be with people. Easy. There can be trust. There can be a deep understanding of mutual goodwill and harmlessness.
I brought him some food. We prayed together and he spoke about the harvest and the harvest moon. Then we went outside in his backyard – there is a lemon tree there – and sat under the moon. We talked about life, just chatted it up. I was myself and safe and so easy. I was having such a good time with him. He hugged me. His hug is electric. Can’t hug too long or it will turn to sex and we have only ever been platonic friends. He is a magician of the best kind, transmuting through Love.
And this morning I am thinking about ease. I am thinking about being easy and loving and forgiving, as a way of life. I am thinking of joy as a way of life. I am grateful that I made it to this day, a day in my life where I can believe that it is possible for joy and Love and Ease to be foundations of my very being. I am grateful that fear is easing its grasp on me and I am becoming better. More kind. Some people can’t tell, but I know. I have a million gifts to give the world. I want to write poems. I want to hug someone and Love someone. I want to help people get out of these deep, deep, ugly feelings that usurp our lives and have us living like zombies for so long. Mostly, I want to laugh again and live with ease.
I’m excited. I have shirked my own power and responsibility for my life for so long. I’ve had my reasons… but I think you need to take all of you on these journeys, even the best of you. We are always focused on loving the worst of us and coddling our pains. But the best of us is important, too. The good things. My friend judges me all the time. Not the one I just wrote about. My Earth Guardian friend. He reads my blogs so he can judge me and call me self righteous. So I’m a bit self-conscious as I’m writing, so as not to sound self-righteous.
Life, thank you for this day. Thank you for this moment of interest in ease, joy, and good will. Oh, and especially Love and forgiveness. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Ameen.
Day 542
Ease
You are hurt. Feeling rejected. Back to eleven again. Everything happened at eleven. I have been reliving eleven over and over and over. And now here I sit, crouched in a corner, rejected again. Mad at my grown up self. Why didn’t I make life better for me? Eleven year-old me thought I would get her out of this. All this hurt and rejection over and over and over. All this not having what I really want over and over and over.
Lucy passed on the script. Said she only works on things that she “absolutely loves”. And I understand. And she gave me a gift in her words. I didn’t absolutely love my script before I sent it out. I kind of liked it. It was good enough. Now I will work on it till I absolutely love.
My Eleven, I’m sorry. All these years, I didn’t know I had grown up. I didn’t know I had the power to take you out of this curled up ball, always rejected, always hurt. I’m sorry I didn’t make life for you any better than then. Please forgive me. I have tried. I have really tried. I have been going in circles and bigger circles and bigger circles and most of us do. Most of us don’t break out of our traumas in one go round. I need to forgive me, please. I’m sorry I didn’t take such good care of you. I’m sorry I didn’t heal your wounds. I’m sorry I didn’t find you places and spaces where you could play and be safe and thrive and I set you up over and over again to just barely be good enough.
I’m sorry I didn’t work on that script till I absolutely Loved it… Grown ups don’t always know that we have grown up. I didn’t see how hurt you were. I was busy running for so long. I was trying to survive. I was just doing things to do them. My baby, I was not that smart like they thought I was. I was stupid. I hate to use that word, but I was. Yes, grown-ups can be stupid. Most of us are. But we are smart, too, sometimes. We keep you alive as long as we can. Forgive us. Please forgive me. Please forgive me for taking so long to see so much.
How can I ease this pain of rejection for us? How can I heal all of these wounds poking the same spots over and over? How can I make it up to you? How can I restore all these years that the locusts have eaten? There are stories in holy books of redemption. Is my time too late?
You rail and say NO! Can I tell you something about adults? There are those of us who don’t grow up. There are those of us who don’t even know we have wounds, much less knowing how to heal them. We try to build mountains on piles of maggots, so far detached from the deepest hurts that we don’t see why we can’t thrive. I know it is nothing to look forward to, but I want to tell you something. Today I learned something. We need your help. I need your help.
You know. You, my resilient young eleven, know how to love. I know you know. I have forgotten. I need you to remind me, please. I know you think you are too little and you can’t do anything, but, oh, your smile! It brings life. I will keep it safe. I will keep your innocence safe this time. Please forgive me. This rejection hit a wound. But it hit a wound because a wound was there with you, my eleven, crouched up in a ball always feeling rejected.
We can work together now at last. I will bring you band-aids and medicine and sing to you. I don’t care if the whole world talks about you and calls you names and only sees the curled up ball you have become. I will look for your smile and when you show it to me, I will keep it safe at last. I know how. I will find safe spaces and places for you, even if folks call me crazy. And if meanies come around, I will scare them off for you. And I will use my grown-up powers to tap into more than me to keep us both safe, so I don’t have to spend so much time fighting and running and we can play at last.
I will start to do things in ways that I absolutely Love. It might make me different or weird. I’ve always been afraid of being different or weird. I know, it’s not a grown-up way to be. That’s what eleven-year-olds do. But I’ve been afraid all these years and have kept you in spaces and places where we fit in with whatever we started with in this life. But my baby, I want to tell you something that might be scary. We were not born to fit in with this. No. We were born to be heroes. Did you know that? I’ve been keeping it a secret, even from myself, but it’s been hurting us so bad, trying to be things we aren’t, and trying to live in a way we’re not supposed to.
I know, you never thought you were a hero, but somewhere deep deep deep deep deep deep down, you knew… To Be Special, Different, Lucky, any of that was a bad thing and so we tried so hard to push away anything that would make us be that. But still people hated us. For being that. For not being that. So it didn’t work, you see?
What am I saying? I’m saying that I’m going to be a grown-up now. Yep. You stay around with your smile and your love and your innocence. Oh, and your friskiness. I Love your friskiness so much! I now know that I’m eleven, but no longer eleven, and I can get out into the world and find us medicine. I can nurture us and nourish us. I can create things and do things in a way that we absolutely Love! I can turn in projects that we absolutely Love! I can make them that good to a point that I absolutely Love them!
I can absolutely Love you and me, even now. Even as we’re feeling rejected and even though we didn’t do so many things and be so many things that we wanted to do and be by now. I hear you cheering for me and saying I can still do it. I hear you pushing me and smiling at me and saying that I have done so much, that I am worth something, even right now. I hear you thanking me for looking at you finally. You forgive me already? You believe in me. You are celebrating me… I am celebrating you. And do you know what I will do for you? I will be a grown-up. I will get up. I will use all my grown-up tools that I’ve learned all this time – I’m not perfect, but I have learned some things about healing and cooking and I know places we can go to play and, I’ve never done it before, but I have an idea of a house we could live in that smells good, and even if I don’t feel like cleaning, I know how to make money so that we can find someone to clean for us and pay them.
I’m not gonna be perfect, OK? People might still reject us. But I know how to make my writing better, and it’s actually fun to work on things and practice until you get them to a place where you absolutely love them. You know what I mean? And I guess as I’m thinking about a man and friends and work and even as I’m thinking about how to fix some of these old relationships I’ve been in with family and old friends and old Loves – I know that scares you and has you going back into a ball. “Do we have to fix those?” you ask me. Only the ones you want to fix. Only the people you miss, OK? I haven’t figured out what to do about those yet, but we’ll put our heads together, and call on our super powers, and get a big ol’ light bubble, – I can get that for us so we can be inside it and no one can hurt us – and we can tap into the biggest Light of the World to help us figure out what to do about all this ruin.
Are you with me? Cry about this rejection if you feel it. Feel it. I’ll be here with you as you feel it as long as you need to, giving you medicine, keeping you safe, singing to you, making a life for us as last. Responsible. Me and you together, Eleven.
Ameen.
Day 541
Dear Eleven (Absolutely Love) (Grown-up Stuff)
