I just wrote a whole blog putting myself selfish friends on blast, and deleted it…
I’ve been trying to write a blog for some days now, and keep deleting stuff. I’ll post this one, no matter what comes out.
I’ve been heartbroken and sad, feeling betrayed by my closest friends, feeling alone, and feeling like people just keep me in their lives because they think they can get stuff from me. They don’t even understand the concept of just giving and just feeding another without an interest in gain.
I’ve been wondering if I want to keep so many asshole selfish people in my circle, and I’ve been conflicted. On the one hand, there have been times when these people have been there for me, and they would try to be there for me again if I really needed it. On the other hand, the emotional cost of relating to them is high. They will be selfish. They will try to use you. They will hurt you. They will compete with you. They will have a hard time really being happy for your success. They will not feel compelled to be there for you and support you unless you are really, really dying. And for reasons that they’re probably not even aware of, they won’t really be truly happy or truly comfortable around you. There will always be a slight guardedness.
I’m realizing how people in the world see me. They don’t see me like I see myself. They either think I’m super lucky and super smart and charmed and successful, or they think I’m a super loser and delusional. I don’t think I’m either.
I’m feeling angry and sad and lonely and betrayed by life right now. I want to run away somewhere, and at the same time I want to stay locked in my apartment where it is safe. I don’t like human beings right now, God. I am disappointed with them. I am disappointed with my life. I almost did it. I almost changed it all. But I fell short.
And here I am, here in my apartment crying again… Sigh… A part of me doesn’t want to try anymore. A part of me feels like people are shit. A part of me is getting eaten by the bitter bug. I’ve made it so long without getting bitter, but a part of me is giving up. A part of me wants to sell all of my stuff, let go of this apartment, don’t turn in any more scripts, go back to the city I grew up, become a part of the religion I grew up in again, and just marry someone and be safe. A part of me thinks that this belief that I have a purpose and the world needs me and I’m supposed to do all this work is just a crock of shit.
I am losing faith, Allah. I am losing hope. I have been hit in the heart a bit too hard this time, and I don’t know if I want to be a part of this world anymore. I’m not thinking of suicide or anything like that. I just don’t know if I want to hope anymore.
It sounds silly as I’m writing it, I know. But that’s how I feel. Sad. Afraid to be open anymore. Hurt. Disappointed. Stuck. Things will never be the same with my friends and I again. You know how you know that something major has changed, even though it seems minor? Like when you’re breaking up with someone. There’s usually a moment. An incident. It might be similar to moments or incidents that have happened before. It might not even be as intense as something that has happened before. But after it happens, things are never the same. Things are broken. You know your relationship will never be the same.
My friends are trying to be nice to me now. They will be assholes once I open up and let myself be vulnerable with them again. They’re just not really mature enough to value a thing and nurture it without the threat of loss. And I am too broken to play the push-pull game anymore. I don’t want to come around people that I have to guard myself around, and I don’t want to be around people who are going to hurt me once I’m vulnerable.. They have been constants in my life for years. There is no one else. Without them, I am alone. And without me, they are alone as well…
And I’m wondering if it’s better that way. So that we can grow. So that we can have faith again and meet people who we can trust; people who we can feel safe with. So we can be happy and not be consumed by the bitter bug. So we can forgive and move-on. So we can see where we went wrong and change… I wonder if it’s better to be alone than to be in relationships that are so full of shit… Some people say I cut people off too quick. Others say I keep assholes in my life for too long. I don’t think that I know when to cut people off and who to keep in my life and why. I’ve never been particularly intentional about creating relationships… I don’t know anything these days.
So, it’s 4:07am. I signed up to do some audience work today and I need to start getting dressed in the next 10 minutes if I’m actually going to go and be there on time… I’m debating about going to the bed and feeling sorry for myself all day or getting up and doing something with my life… I don’t even know what to pray for anymore, God. I just don’t want to feel this way anymore. I thought I had escaped all this sadness and pain. I thought I had overcome despair. But here I am, despairing. Here I am, without hope, and not even knowing if I should pray for hope anymore.
You say that the trickster has gotten into my brain, and I say that I am tired of fighting to keep him out. I can’t fight him on my own anymore… I don’t have the words anymore… I need help. Not humans. Not books. Not words. I need Your Help, Allah. I’m drowning. I had come so close to the shore and I don’t have any fight left in me. And I am drifting back into the middle of nowhere. Invisible world. Sad world. Bitter world. World of the living dead. I don’t want to go there. I still want to be alive. I want to be alive. I want to be alive… I’m gonna go get dressed.
Day 487
Break-ups and Breakdowns
Hey… So… Wow. I’m procrastinating y’all. I’m procrastinating because I just started taking a new course so that I could get some support creating focus and structure in my life, and I had to make a commitment the other day. Commitment is not one of my favorite words. In fact, it’s one of my least favorite words. But it gets better. Check out the commitment that the teacher challenged us to make. She challenged us to make a huge commitment that will transform our lives forever and cause us to live our destiny. This is the commitment I made:
“I am committing to myself that at the highest level possible, I am going to create the conditions in my life to give myself the opportunity to become all that I can be in my life. I commit to fully show up, go all the way, create a life that reflects my potentials, discover what is and isn’t possible for me, and realize my destiny. YES!”
Yep. Umhm. I said that. Now I’m dealing with it. There is no way that I can make that kind of commitment and stay the same. I imagine that all that I can be looks a whole lot different than who I’m being now. So there you have it. Now I’m gonna have to do stuff. I’m not sad. I signed up for this course (It’s called Feminine Power and it’s taught by Claire Zammit by the way). I had taken this course before, but I didn’t fully participate in it the first time I took it. I definitely didn’t make that kind of commitment the first time I took the course, and if I’ve being honest, I must say that I’ve never made a commitment to anyone on that level, especially not myself…
So, I’m procrastinating. Because I’m horrified about the changes that will occur when I walk out of the door today. My life is kind of magical. The time lapse between me setting an intention and it happening in my life is usually not that long. So here I am, afraid of the massive change that is about to take place and sitting in my house blogging, instead of connecting with all of the people that I know I’m supposed to connect with today.
I have become used to me being here. Let’s just admit it. We get used to our shitty lives. And even though we want to change things, there is the fear. We don’t know what’s going to happen when things change. We know what’s happening in our lives now. We know what’s going to happen if we stay the same. We have figure out ways to deal with whatever misery we are in. We have even figured out ways to be happy sometimes without having to change. I am here. Yeah, I don’t have a man and I don’t have too many friends and some of my relationships with family aren’t the best and my health isn’t ideal and my money flow could be better and my professional life is on the border of a breakthrough but hasn’t crossed over yet, and my apartment still isn’t decorated like I want it and I need a new couch, and I never have sex, but so. So what? Tehee.
It’s not that bad. I have free time to muse and write blogs, I have enough food, I have at least one friend on the planet who I’m authentic with, I know how to make money when push comes to shove and pay the bills, nobody is breaking my heart at the moment so I’m not crying every day, and sometimes I’m happy, and sometimes I’m inspired, and sometimes I do good work and collaborate with other creatives and have the time of my life. Life is ok, I tell myself.
And the truth is, life is ok. It’s not that bad. But the other truth is, I’m not living out the potentials that I know I have for myself. The potentials that I feel are huge. And I’m so afraid to get out of my comfort zone and go for them all the way. Because it is safe here. Because I had been so hurt by life for so long, and I finally found a safe place right here in my little apartment, not having to interact with mean humans who might hurt me, not having to be disappointed by guys who might break my heart, not having to be judged or rejected, not having to worry about people not liking me just because I’m me, not having to protect myself from being used or manipulated, not having to play small because people close to me with be jealous or hurt if I’m my full-out self, not having to pretend that I believe what I don’t or that I don’t believe what I do. It is safe here where I can pray like I want, sing songs and burn sage in my apartment and not worry about anyone calling me weird or evil or whatever.
I am afraid to go back into the world where it is possible that people can hurt me. That is the truth, too.
I am afraid that if I live my destiny, then even more people will hate me than they do now. I’m afraid I won’t have any friends who aren’t frenemies. I’m afraid my mom won’t love me when she finds out who I am really am. I’m afraid my sibs won’t like me. On the one hand, I’m afraid that I won’t find a man if I’m too awesome, and on the other hand, I’m afraid that I will find a man and he will be so awesome and then I’ll be vulnerable and fall in love and he will break my heart. I’m afraid that people will try and steal my creative ideas and/or exploit my work and images like some people have already done.
I am afraid of so much, Allah, and this commitment that I made is going to force me to have to face every single one of these fears. Can I be honest and just admit that I’m not excited? I’m not feeling ferocious and strong. I’m feeling like a little kid who just has to go to school by himself on the first day, and I’m crying and cowering over here. I’m not always brave.
In my mind, I hear a voice ask, “How much do you want it?” How much do you want to live your destiny? I know, I started this blog just ‘cus I didn’t want to cry every day. I wasn’t talking ’bout no living no destiny. But what do you do when you stop crying every day? What’s next? I didn’t think about that part, but I guess You did, God. Do I really have something good to do with my life? Sometimes I think I do, but I am afraid to say it out loud.
You tell me that I am afraid of so much. I know. I know… What are we gonna do about it? I can’t sit in this apartment looking out at the sunshine through my windows forever, but oh, Allah, do You know how much pain I’ve seen? My life has been a bit much for a little sensitive girl like me. Will You keep me safe? I am afraid…
And You say nothing to me… Instead, my body tingles and I know it is time to stop procrastinating. I know I will choose to get up. I know that there is something in me that is deeper than my fears. I know that if I allow You, Allah, You will make this part easier than I can imagine. My mind wants to lash out and say, “no… but… if… and…” but I know that there is a part of me that is greater than my mind, and this is the part that I must lean into. I won’t even denigrate this part by calling it spirit or soul or intuition or any of that. It is greater than all of that, and honestly, I don’t even know what it’s called. I just know that it exists.
So I’m gonna get off this blog. I am going to trust that the part of me that I can not name will provide what is needed so that I may be safe as I embark on the greatest adventure of my life, the adventure of realizing my destiny. I am going to trust in this even though I am scared out of my freaking mind. I’m not even gonna say I’m not gonna obsess anymore. I might still obsess and worry. But I’m gonna show up anyway. I’m gonna do the work anyway. I guess that’s what commitment means.
Me and my previously commitment-phobic behind are going to commit to something. Nope, we couldn’t ease into this commitment thing with something small, like committing to eating a green leaf every day. We had to start big, talking about transforming our entire life and all. Never really thought I was worth shit, and now I am going to have to believe that my life is worth something, that I am worth something, that I have something to offer…
So here we go again. Commitment is the word of the day, You say. It will see me through to the other side. Ok. Commitment, my previous arch enemy, I’m turning towards you now. You’ve been trying to help me all this time, and I thought you were trying to trap me. I’m sorry. I’m turning towards you now. I’m turning towards… Ameen.
Day 486
Commitment (My New Best Friend)
Had a lovely dream last night. Don’t remember all of it. I had a baby. It was weird. I didn’t even know I was pregnant, then one of my sisters told me I was pregnant. I was ok with being pregnant. Then I asked when’s the baby coming, and someone brought a baby to me, and said it was mine. Said someone else had gone through labor for me. They handed me this beautiful baby girl with bright eyes. The father was this sexy guy. Just prior to me finding out that I was pregnant, me and Mr. sexy had been talking about whether or not we wanted to be together. When I woke up, me and my baby daddy still hadn’t decided whether or not we were going to be a couple and parent this kid together. But we were ok. We were ok with having a baby. It was a good thing. It was weird going around with a baby in my arms, being a part of the sacred hood called mother. People looked at me different. The only thing I missed is that I had wanted to go through the experience of labor and delivery…
I know weird. It was one of those dreams that, when you wake up, you feel like the dream meant something. I woke up, and I was in the middle of being asleep and being awake, and the thought “make it up” came to me. “Make it up” is the tagline on my writing business cards. It came to me that this is what I have to do now. With this part of my life. Make it up.
I am here in an apartment that looks like a box in the middle of LA. It’s crazy because I have absolutely no drama in my life for the first time I can remember. I don’t think I’ve felt this way since before I was 11 and I had my traumatic first kiss. There are no fires to put out. There is no toxic relationship pushing me to and fro. Family ties aren’t the best, but I’m ok with them as they are for now. Health and money aren’t the best, but they are good enough for now. I’m not worried about survival issues. I will survive and pay bills and eat somehow someway always, as long as I’m alive. I know this.
But now what? Where do we go from here? This box apartment is lame now. I want to be a part of the world. I want to be connected to the world. We don’t learn how to make a life. Most of us just make do with the life that was given to us – our culture, our family, our place where we’re born. But if you break away from that, which I did, then what? Us women are taught to latch on to some man and build from there, go where he wants to go, do what he wants to do…
I don’t know. I’m not scared. I’m a bit inspired, but I don’t know, you know? How do I dream, Allah? How do I build this part of my life? Where do I go? I don’t know much. All I know is that I can’t stay in this apartment in this way by myself anymore. This just won’t do anymore. My heart is craving Love. My heart is yearning to love and be loved. I am yearning to care for someone deeply. I am yearning to know joy and truth in an experiential way. I am wanting to take my rightful place in the world and know where I belong. I am needing to belong, not out of desperation, not just linking with bodies to have bodies around. I am needing to belong where I belong. For true.
So I’m just sharing. One of my daily affirmations states, “Loving trust of oneself to provide what is needed helps to create the circumstances through which that result is virtually guaranteed.” It’s from the book Oneness by Rasha.
It is time to do the work. The harvest has come in, and now it’s time to decide what to do with the fruit. I remember my magical ex, Dream Lover. His life was a fairytale of made up things. He couldn’t figure out Love. He couldn’t figure out how to be vulnerable and trust in Love, but he was so good at imagining and making up everything else. And he made up songs, and beautiful places to live, and wonderful food dishes…
I’m going to take my feet and step back out into the world now, Lord. I want to build a life that is good and holy. That is my heart’s yearning. I know You will guide me one step at a time. I wonder what will happen. I wonder what picture will emerge as I start to use the paintbrush of my imagination. Here we go. Here’s to a good life, an extraordinary life, a life where dreams comes true are normal and everything I have to give is given… Abracadabra! Abracadabra….
Ameen.
Day 485
Make It Up (The Rebuild)
At my sister’s place. LA. In my feelings. Helping her move-out, but right now I’m waiting on a friend to come from out of town. Airport pickup is in 2 hrs and 15 min, so I’m trying to figure out what I can do in the next 1hr and 45 before I leave to get him.
He’s my best friend. I call him Wings. He always comes to help when I am falling. I help him, too. I am blessed to have him. Someone outside is smoking and soon my clothes will smell like smoke. Either that or close the windows and be hot and stuffed up… I put a face mask on…
Maybe I will ask my friend to live with me. Maybe I will ask him to stay. I am tired of doing it alone. He’s coming because I was falling. For the past two weeks, I have been falling hard. Don’t quite know how it happened. I slipped and fell into a vortex – another world. I world I have been in before; I have lived in before, but I had gotten out of it and been out of it for at least three months. I had (finally) begun to live the life I had always dreamed of, but in the past two weeks, I fell…
It started when I came back to LA at the beginning of this month. An old friend of mine (I’ll call him Vamps b/c he sucks all my energy and has no front teeth) saw an opportunity to try and be a part of my life, and made himself constantly present, showing up with breakfast, inviting me to lunch, offering to pay for stuff, calling in the morning and the night. I know him. I’ve known him for years and I know how he operates, and in the past couple of years, I haven’t accepted any of his invitations, because I know that if I hang with him one-on-one, it’s going to end up with him trying to be romantically involved with me. When I came back to LA at the beginning of October, though, I was afraid. I was afraid of being alone. I had had such an amazing August and September, and I was afraid of coming back to my apartment by myself. I was afraid of coming back to my lonely life after I had experienced how amazing life could be when there are cool, loving people who you are in harmony with in your life… So, when Vamps made his invites, I said yes.
For about a week, Vamps called and/or showed up every day. Then my friend Wings came into town for a quick visit. Wings has a way of pushing men and mean people away from me. So for the few days that Wings was around, Vamps wasn’t. But then Wings left. And I was sad to see him go. And right after he left, I got recruited to do a huge move-out project and my car broke down on the first day. My AAA and insurance had also expired on that day. And I had a presentation due that night and I was supposed to edit a document for my mom on that night, too. Like magic, Vamps called me and asked me if I needed his help with anything. He hung out with me for about 9 hours as we took my car to the shop, stopped by the move-out location, went to Western Union to send out money, and finally ended up at my place. Before the night was over, he tried to hit on me and make me his girl.
That was two weeks ago. That was the beginning of the fall. My back started tingling, and the tingling has only started to subside today. My muscles started hurting, and I became very sad. Between then and now, two other men from my past have proposed to me. Literally. Proposed. Asked me what the eff is wrong with me and why won’t I marry them. I couldn’t ask my two out of three female friends for help with anything b/c their mad at me for not doing for them what they would never fathom doing for me…
Tired of whining. Suffice it to say that I was drowning fast and deep. The men didn’t want to help me unless I let them hold me hostage and women were just bogus always asking for shit that they’re not willing to give. I had one female friend who is ride or die, but her life is so hectic that I don’t want to ask her for help. She needs my help…
My neighbor offered to help with stuff but didn’t. Instead, he took the opportunity to try and manipulate me and at the same time try to be with me. I’m laughing right now. That man can’t figure me out for the life of him. He is always so busy trying to play tricks. He’s a kindergarten trickster. He has no idea that I am the daughter of a con artist and my first love was a mastermind trickster. I smell tricks miles away… They make me sad these days.
Perhaps that is why I’ve been so low the past two weeks. I’ve been out of the land of tricks and manipulation – of meanness and people doing the least while trying to get the most. I’ve been around giving people and people who like me and want to be a part of my world just because they like me. They’re not mad at me for anything. They’re not resentful because I didn’t behave in a particular way. And I came back to LA and found myself alone. Found myself being pulled in all these different directions, none of which had anything to do with anything that is good for me, and found myself feeling like I have to fight again. All my life I’ve had to fight and I didn’t have much of a punch left in me.
That was yesterday. It is amazing what can happen overnight. My friend, Wings, told me that I was tarrying in the mud. He said that I don’t belong in the mud anymore. I understood. There are different worlds all around us. Even in one household, people can be living in starkly different realities. For a long time, I have been involved in relationships that are founded on manipulation, trickery, dysfunction, power plays, abuse, codependence, guilt. I have been close to people who literally can’t stand my guts and want to hurt or punish me for one reason or the other. My Love hasn’t been received openly and Love hasn’t been given to me openly. Maybe I wasn’t willing to receive it. For a long time, my heart has been broken and closed.
But it opened. Sometime in the past few months, my heart opened up, and I experienced a whole new world. I experienced a world I had only ever dreamed of, where people liked me and received me. There was no condition except that I be myself. No one was asking me to save them. No one was asking me to be with them or else. No one was mad at me for not being who they wanted me to be, and people were patient and understanding of me. And they allowed for me to be flawed and still loved me. And they didn’t try to use me or manipulate me. And I was safe in the world. I lived it. It was my dream. I was safe in the world at last.
And last week, with these men.. with these asshole friends… I wasn’t safe anymore. And it took me to a really low place. It was like I was under a spell. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t make decisions. My body was tingling nonstop. I was crying nonstop. I felt alone. I was scared to leave my apartment. I was scared that if I separated myself from the people in my life, then I would be alone. And there I found my greatest fear. All this time, I have been afraid to be alone. I have been afraid to not belong. This fear has held me hostage for most of my life and it was keeping me entangled with vampires, blood suckers, and usurious bastards.
My friend told me to choose. He told me that I couldn’t tarry in the mud anymore. I just couldn’t. But if I cut chords with people from my past, it would leave me alone. Alone. With a broken car maybe. Alone with no dinner companions. Alone with no one to obsess with or talk to or go to parks with… I looked alone in the eye. You see, I had been to heaven and I could see myself slipping back into the mud. And I just couldn’t go back to the mud anymore. So I looked alone in the eye, and I told it to come on! I was willing to be alone. I chose to have a good life, even it meant being alone. I yelled my choice out to the walls in my house.
And the spell was broken.
That was yesterday. Today I can think. I’m gonna go pick up my friend now. My friend came from out of town to help me out. I’m bragging a bit. But he makes me feel loved. I’m grateful. He’s texting me as I’m writing this blog. He’s early. Oh lawd! Gotta go.
There are worst things than being alone. Like tarrying in the mud…
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Laydie
Day 484
Worse Than Alone (Tarrying in the Mud)
Hey,
So, I’ve written about four blog entries since my last one, but haven’t posted any of them. I’m kind of out of sorts. Not depressed or sad or mad or happy or any of those feelings. Out of it. Have a teleconference in 30 min. My first decently paid writing job. Helping someone rewrite a movie and we have a phone conference scheduled….
So I guess I have 30 min to spill my guts out and get centered some kind of way. They talk about this place – the place that I’m at – at my spiritual center. It’s like you are at the end of one way of being, but you are not quite at the beginning of the new way of being, and so you are in the in between, where nothing makes sense.
You are not motivated by the things that used to motivate you and the goals that used to focus you are no longer your goals. I asked God to take me back to the beginning, to the place I was at before I got programmed into having all the beliefs and goals I had. Nothing made sense anymore.
Right now I am in a big house that is owned by my sister – an MD who is married to an engineer and who has two lovely kids and a dog, and who is pregnant with her third child. This is the dream. She is living the American dream. And I asked myself, do I want to live this dream?
And I couldn’t say yes. Don’t get me wrong. It’s lovely. Money is lovely. And having a life partner is lovely. And kids are lovely if you want them. And working at the career you want is lovely. And living in a house that has enough space and that is near nature is lovely.
But I couldn’t get myself to sit down and pray for these things. I couldn’t get myself to sit down and pray for anything. It all seemed so silly to me. I didn’t know what to pray for. And then the idea of sitting and always asking and praying and working for more, more, more seemed silly, too. I saw us humans, including myself, as a bunch of little ants, just running to and fro, gathering mounds of dust, hating each other, envying each other, hating ourselves for all of the things that one didn’t do for another… And I became uninterested…
I am picking up the feelings of the people who live here, You whisper to my Soul, and I am grateful for this sudden revelation. This is an awakening that I’m experiencing. That is what it’s called. I am here, in the ant world, and I choose to be here as ant, but I am more than an ant as well.
You tell me that I am the guide, and these thoughts seem blasphemous to me. Who am in relationship to You? Who am I, God, and what am I doing here? Really. Who am I?
I am interested in giving now. I am interested in sharing. And I see that our world is not set up this way. Am I one of the people to usher in a new way of being? I would be honored to be this. Can you imagine the prophets and saints and teachers of our world? These are the parts of their lives that no one ever speaks of. They were not of their time. Do you know how lonely and confused they must have been? The things of their world did not make sense to them, and people hated them for their new way of being. People tried to kill them. Kill them! They shunned them because they couldn’t get with the program of the world they were in. Most of them died by the hands of the people they were trying to help, but oh, what mighty lives they lived!
I think I am here to help with something bigger than myself. I am a part of a mission greater than myself. I want to be who I am, Allah. I want to be who I am. I choose to be who I am. How do I know what to choose? How do I know what do next? How do I know what to focus on? How do I know where to live? Who to live with? How can I be the guide if You are the guide? “Finish what you started” is the only message that comes. And so I will. Thank You. Ameen.
Dy 483
The In-Between
My heart is full.
I’m sitting in a room. An instrumental lullaby plays from a little music player. On a bunkbed to my left, two small children, a five-year-old, and a 3-year-old, fall asleep. They are my niece and nephew. They are Love.
I am in Colorado. Visiting my sister. Becoming aware of how much Love I have been missing out on. My niece and nephew welcome me with open arms, unguarded. Nothing between us but love. They smile as big as they feel. They hug as deep as they feel. They play freely.
My sister has things like bedrooms and real furniture and a home that feels like people live here. And I am aware that my life must change. Very soon.
I have been missing out on all the good things. Dance camp. Now here. A home. Love. Openness. True openness. It’s different than just having people around. True openness where there is nothing but love between you and another. I have been missing out.
Thank You, Allah, for letting me come here. Thank you, Allah, for this past month of so much beauty and Love. Thank you for letting me see so many ways that we can be and live.
I guess we are here again. At another crossroads. My Life must change. I must change. I can’t go to dance camp and now here and then go back to the life I had. I will shrivel up and die, knowing now how good life can be.
I want to write about the nonsense and tomfoolery that has happened over the past month – I called the cops on a sub-letter and kicked them out because they said they were going to stay in my apartment and not pay me rent for a month… In the course of a week, I started flirting with and/or dating four different guys and ended it with all of them before the week was over. Met another guy I kind of liked, number five, but he was so mean, and I realized I don’t like mean guys anymore.
I used to like mean guys. Go figure. Used to be intrigued by their trickery, be compelled to see the good in them and try and exhume it – I didn’t even think of this consciously. I just used to be ok with assholes. Don’t take me out on a date? That’s ok. Forget a birthday? No problem. Cheat on me or have suspect behavior that makes me feel like shit? No worries. Only answer my calls sporadically and never when I need something? Don’t notice me? Don’t ever really ask me anything about anything that doesn’t concern you? Welcome, I would say. Let me save you. Let me show you how good you can be. Hurt me and don’t say sorry? Welcome was my word. Make shit hard just because you don’t believe in easy? Have no intention or plan to build anything with me? OK. I didn’t even used to notice, at least not consciously. I just want to say it out loud, OK? I used to be that girl. The girl who was so ok with bullshit. I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m not a girl anymore… I told mean guy number five he can’t be mean to me. He can’t hang out with me – he’s too mean. And it wasn’t a game. I didn’t say it so that he could come back and try to be nice. He needs some therapy or a life changing event before he can be nice to anyone. I said he can’t hang out with me and be mean to me, because it was about me. No one can hang out with me and be mean to me anymore. They just don’t get to do that to me. That sounds small when I write it, but it’s so huge to me. It’s so big for me to say, just like a little kid, “I’m not gonna be your friend if you’re mean. I only hang out with friends who are nice to me.”
We’ve been in the mud for a long time. A long, long time. But the sun has touched my skin recently. The sun is baptizing me. I was baptized by fire and renewed by water.
So much happens in our lives. Imagine, for most of us, at some point or another, someone sat with us while we slept and asked God, the world, the Earth, to bless us, just as I am sitting here with these sweet children, asking You, God, to bless them. Asking You to keep them safe. Asking You to let them not lose this Love that they have, and if they should lose it for a moment, let them come back home soon.
And for my life? For me, Allah, I am ready now. Tell me what I need to do. I will do it. I humbly surrender to Your will. I humbly align my heart and my will with my soul’s purpose here. I’ve been starving. Oh, I’ve been so many things. Now, I would like to be alive…
Ameen
Day 482
Ameen
What a day to be alive.
I am overflowing with gratitude. I am coming to understand something bigger than me, and what a day to be alive.
Love. Love is bigger than me. I don’t want to preach today. I don’t want to tell you about all of the rollercoasters that are always waiting to be ridden once I step outside of my house.
I want to mention, though, about my sub-letters, a brother and sister who had been living in my apartment since mid August and who were supposed to be staying in my apartment for the month of September and who decided to tell me on September 1 that they would indeed be living in my apartment, but they were not going to pay me to live there. -_-
I had quite an adventure figuring out what to do about them a couple days ago. But I did the right thing. In the midst of the drama, I prayed and I asked God what I should do. I asked what action would bring the highest possible results for everyone involved. And I did the right thing. I kicked their asses out.
Now I am sitting outside on the patio of my mom’s residence. Crickets are chirping. It’s 11:06pm. Mom and I talked today. Just talked and bonded. And I Love her like I never did before. I just love her. I know she’s not perfect. I know she’s got all kinds of issues and there are things that I don’t like about her personality, etc. But there are things that I Love about her. Like I Love how she will give her last dime to help people. I Love how giving she is. I Love that she’s really brilliant and wise and strong and she takes action on things. I love how she calls a spade a spade and can’t fake about things even when she tries. I Love my mother’s laugh, full of joy and delight. I Love my mother. And today, I let my mother love me.
She is not the story book mom that I would have drawn up in one of my imaginations. We have fought about so much for most of my life. Mostly, I have been fighting her for the right to be me, and not her, and she has been fighting to show me that being her is good. And today, some kind of way, we understood each other. We didn’t say it out loud. We talked about things – my friends, our different choices in life, the way I handled my subletting situation – but some kind of way, I felt like my mom was finally giving me permission to be me; and I think she felt that I was finally seeing that being her is good.
And we came to this place while she is alive, while I can still hug her, and not after someone had died and I’m writing a remorseful blog. We came to a place of Love and understanding. I Love my mother at last, and she Loves me.
There are parts of me that are such a little girl, and I am ok with them. I am ok today, and I am just so grateful to be ok.
I want to Love and forgive. That is what I want to do with my life. Love and forgive. And I’m ok with that…
That you, Allah. Ameen.
Day 481
To Love and Forgive (My Mother)
Hey.
I’m on a train. Back to my life after living a dream for the past five days. So many thoughts… Can I tell you about the past five days? I feel a little lucky. A lot lucky actually. I checked out from the world. Not on purpose, but I’m glad it ended up that way because it allowed me to immerse myself into another world completely. And this other world was a cultural dance camp tucked away in the middle of lush nature in Northern California. I had no internet or phone reception there.
At first, I was reluctant to go this camp for several reasons: firstly, I didn’t have a lot of disposable cash. Secondly, I had a lot of writing to do. Thirdly, the thought of going to a camp when there’s a lot of work to do just seemed frivolous. And fourthly, I had just found out that I had advanced to the final round of a very prestigious writing contest and I had some more work to do for the final round. But my spirit wanted some joy. Kind of needed it. It had been a tough summer, full of family issues, man issues, not so much nature, not so much good food, not so much authentic connecting or community or kindness or anything that feeds my soul, and I was beginning to feel depleted.
So I went to this camp. And I’m so glad I did. I arrived in the city nearest camp on an Amtrak train, watching the sunrise on my ride out there. The camp shuttle van came and picked me up and the driver loaded up my tent, sleeping bag, air mattress, two suitcases and backpack into the van. He delivered my things to the front door of women’s cabin number two.
In the cabin, I was greeted by an older woman from Northern California, and in the coming days, the cabin was populated by a three other women in my age group and a woman about my mom’s age. We were all single, crazy, free-spirited magical kind of women who were at crossroads in our lives.
The camp provided three healthy meals a day, and several drum and dance classes throughout the day, which you could elect to go to or not. It also had two lakes, and one of them you could swim in or paddle boat in. On every night, they had a different activity, such as a club night, a night of a special performance, a campfire/storytelling night, and a talent show night.
The whole summer long, I haven’t gotten as much writing done as I did at this camp. I would wake up before seven, do my stretches and meditation. Go eat at the dining hall and talk and mingle with people. Most of the people were so awesome. There were people from all over the world – China, Japan, UK, Australia, New Zealand, Hawaii, Africa, all over the US – all coming to this camp to be taught by some of the best cultural teachers in the world. And I must say, they were some of the best artists I’ve ever met. So talented. So disciplined. Amazing, amazing people – cool, funny, smart, bold, sweet, loving. A met a little girl who told me her name was butterfly, and she was just full of kisses and cuddling for me. And there were a few people I knew there. A guy I used to hang out with, and his two kids were there.
After mingling with the cool camp people, I would go hide out in this spot where nobody goes, and sit out in nature and write for three to four hours. Yes, three to four hours. Sometimes in LA, that’s my weekly writing total. It was so cool writing out in nature, sitting near enough to the classes to hear the musicians playing beautiful live music for every class.
After writing, I would each lunch and mingle a bit, then take two dance classes and nap in between them, then go to dinner, then attend the evening activity, then lay in my tent and look at the stars as I meditated before I went to sleep.
I met women. Such beautiful women. Oh, the dance teachers there! Some of them were women- elders- and they walked with such grace and danced so fiercely. It was so nice to see them. Just powerful and loving and breathing. And I made friends. Me and my cabin mates would stay up talking about everything. Everyone was talented and people played drums and flutes and guitars and sang and danced. And some people were successful artists and others weren’t so much, but they were open. And we shared about our lives and our weirdness and our heartaches and our triumphs. And the men – they treated me like brothers (except for the guy I already knew, who kept trying to talk to and flirt with me). But other than him, the men were so respectful and fun and sweet. It was such a nice balance. It was such a good time.
Day before yesterday, they announced that they would be having a talent show. I didn’t have anything in mind, but that night, a poem came to me. It was about women. It’s called “They Walked Like Women”. I was just so inspired by the brilliance and the grace and the power and the balance of some of the women there, and I was so in love with the communal way of the place, that I wrote a poem about it. And I decided that I was gonna be me. Laydie. I was gonna write something and I was gonna share it. And I didn’t want to do it alone. So I got all brave and I invited my cabin mates to accompany me as I read the poem. One would dance, one would play flute, and one would drum. And they agreed.
THEN. It gets better. I’m not making any of this up. The morning of the talent show, this beautiful woman who I had been admiring but whom I hadn’t spoken to yet, approached me and asked me if I wanted to be in her singing group for the show. Now. I’m not a singer. But I Love to sing. She is a woman like me. Magical. And she stands out wherever she goes. Not that she’s the most pretty in the room, but there is something about her that just makes you want to know her. I told her I can’t sing that good, and she told me that she grew up in the church, and that sometimes the person selected to sing the song in the church is not the person who sings the best, but the person who has something in their heart that they need to share. She thought that I had something that needed to be shared, so she asked me to sing a solo verse in a song she, I and another women were to sing together.
So now, I was going to do two performances. Read my spoken word poem and sing in a trio of beautiful women. I’ve never sung at anything in front of people. I haven’t gotten up and read a poem in front of people in years. At least seven years since I’ve stood up in front of anyone, and shared my creative anything. Long story short, I did it. It was amazing. It was so wonderful to do these performances with these incredibly loving, talented women. And everyone loved us. So many people came up to me and told me how inspired and touched and empowered they were by my poem. They thanked me for speaking about what it is to be a woman. They told me they loved my singing voice. Me! The woman who loves to sing, but who everyone had always told that I couldn’t sing. They loved my singing voice!
I Loved giving my heart to them. I loved giving my best to them. I gave them my all and they received it. It was the best feeling ever – to be received and appreciated for what I had to offer.
After the talent show, a few people, including me, didn’t want to go to sleep. We sat out on one of the plazas while a couple of people played songs with their guitars. I swayed and danced. We shared blankets.
I was myself. It was everything I wanted for my life. It was beautiful…
And now I am on a train back to LA. And LA is no dance camp. I am greeted by messages from people I hadn’t thought about for days. Everything looks the same as I left it. Some things are probably worse and maybe some things are better. I will find out soon.
Can my life be like dance camp, God? It was so beautiful. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by gratitude for the beautiful things I’ve experienced. It’s like a whole other secret world exists. There are so many ways to experience this world.
I got to be a leader this past week. I got to empower others, but not in a pretentious way. We were all equals, but different. Just different types of people with different things to do, giving their gifts. Today at lunch, this lady came and asked to clean my plate up for me. I told her I’d do it, and she said that queens should be served.
I was a queen at camp, but it was different than what I envisioned a queen to be. It was better. Because I was not separate from everyone, standing on my high horse. I was together with people, listening to them, talking with them. They had things to offer, and I accepted their offerings genuinely. And they accepted my offerings and trusted me to do a good thing.
I don’t know where I’m going with this blog. I guess it’s time to stop writing. I just wanted to share what a beautiful time I had. Thank you for this nourishment, Allah. I needed it so much. I needed to see how beautiful life can be. I needed to see what community could be like, and how it could feel to be around people that are so gifted and amazing. I needed to be in your nature. I needed to feel wanted and valued and appreciated. I needed to be received as I am, and not hated on. I needed some people to champion me. Women. I needed good experiences with women. Cool women standing in their power…
I want to give my heart, Allah. That’s what I want to do with my life. What I did at dance camp? That’s what I want to do with my life. I want to give my heart. I want to connect so deeply and be together with people in this world. I want to be received and accepted and appreciated for who I am. I want to be surrounded by people who keep me safe and see me and want the best for me and don’t try and manipulate and use me. I want to be that support for others. And You showed me – You had me experience that. Those things were only dreams in my head before. But I experienced it, and now it’s real. Now it’s a possibility for my life.
So I ride back to LA empowered. Empowered in a way I’ve never been before. Empowered with Love. Power is not mean and forceful. Power is giving and loving. And power also includes honoring your own self. This is woman stuff. This is grown up stuff. This is more than I ever imagined for my little ol’ life. And I thank you so much, Allah. I am so grateful. I am so grateful… Ameen.
Day 480
They Walked Like Women (Dance Camp)
Hey. I can honestly say that life is magical.
One day, you are full of doubt and the next you are full of conviction and faith. Not going to write too much, because I’m going to do a lot of work today.
Don’t want to share too many details, but want to share something I came upon about allowing and accepting the good. About having things now and not always looking for something in the future.
It’s been a long time that I’ve been in this vortex called struggle and sadness. You get used to it. And you start believing that your dreams are just dreams. Just down the street, someone is living the life that you have begun to think is impossible for you. Literally, just down the street.
In the past couple of weeks, I made it out of the vortex. I got a glimpse of life outside of sadness and struggle, and I realized that I wasn’t used to it. I had to (and have to) keep telling myself that I can get used to this. I can get used to this. I can get used to this. I realized that I had begun to believe that I couldn’t have the things I had always dreamed of, and I had to go back in my mind and change what I believe.
I decided that if I didn’t really believe in anything, I could at least be willing to allow for the possibility of good things, and that’s where I started. I started telling myself that it’s possible. It is possible that going back into the world could be safe. And it’s possible that other people and environments can be life enhancing and nourishing. And it is also possible that other people could understand me and even help me have a better understanding of myself. It’s possible that others could accept me as I am without judgement. It is possible that others in the world could fight for me and defend me instead of trying to hurt and use me, and it’s also possible that I could be able to fight for and protect and defend myself when needed…
Just because I haven’t experienced certain things doesn’t mean they’re not possible. I could wrap my mind around possibilities, and I kept affirming them to myself. I had been traumatized, you know. I didn’t realize it, but I had been traumatized a long time ago, and I had all of these beliefs about the world that were making me afraid to go out and be back in the working world again, and making me afraid to come close to people. Granted, my beliefs were formed because of the experiences that I’d had with others, but I at least could understand that just because I had been hurt in certain ways didn’t mean that I would always be hurt in those ways by everyone.
I planted possibilities in my mind. And then, when I could say that things are possible for me and there wasn’t too much dissonance, I realized that there is a level above possibility. There is allowance. And this is a thing I want to write about. I went back to my affirmations, and realized that although I could believe certain things were possible, I wasn’t really willing to have them.
I mean, they felt more safe out there and not here with me. And so I started affirm that I allow. I allow myself to be safe out there in the working world. I allow other people and environments to be life enhancing and nourishing. I allow other people to understand me even better than I understand myself. I allow myself to connect with others and be as loving as I want to be and still be safe… I allow. I allow myself to be filthy rich and have all of my needs met till the end of time. I allow. I allow myself to be Loved and seen and known as good. I allow myself to be free, and yes, I allow myself to be lucky. I allow life to be easy. And joyful. Yes. I allow. I allow life to be joyful. I allow my life to be full of joy and love. I allow myself to have. To own. To have. To own. I allow myself to have everything my heart has ever desired and more. I allow myself to have everything my heart has ever desired and more. I allow myself to have everything my heart has ever desired and more. I allow myself to be my full, whole, authentic self. Oh, yes. I allow myself to be my full, whole, authentic self.
This is the prayer that I want to share with you. A prayer of allowance and acceptance. I allow myself to be surprised by the goodness of life. I allow myself to be surprised by the goodness of life. I allow myself to be surprised by the goodness of life. I allow my life to be better than I ever imagined it to be. Yes. I allow. Now. Today. I allow the struggle to be over. I allow the struggle to be over. I allow the struggle to be over. Today. Today. Today.
Ameen
Day 478
Allowing
