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Day 545 – Do The Work

December 21, 2020

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

From → Identity Shift

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