My baby sis is on the mind… This one is for you, God. I am at a crossroads. A major one…
Back in LA. Ran into a guy that I had met over ten years ago, back in the days when I first stepped foot in LA trying to be a model. I was background acting and met this very memorable guy who was telling me about a script he had written. He was talking about how he had been speaking to some major actors and how he was going to sell the script. I have run into him from time to time over the years. He’s an actor in the union, but he also writes and makes music. He is always talking about a project he’s working on, and he is always struggling for money and always single and lonely looking… I ran into him today, about four days after my arrival in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles looks different after having been in Hawaii for a while. The sky is grey-blue and dusty. If you stay outside for a few hours and wipe your face with a Kleenex, there will be a brown residue on the tissue. It is a place where dreams come to die and dreams come to be born; but most of the dreams die here and people end up like my friend I just ran into: always talking about some project that never quite sees the light of day.
We run to relationships here in order to combat the loneliness. Standards are low. Will you stay? Check. Will you answer calls? Check. Will you tell me what I want to hear? Will you hold me sometimes? Check. That’s good enough. There are so many flakes here that being willing to stay with someone is more than enough reason for someone to pledge their body and soul to you…
It is a sad place… But I don’t want to tell you about Los Angeles. You already know about this place. I want to tell you about my life, because I need help… Can I speak plainly, and not in code? It has been over ten years since I first stepped foot in LA, and for the first time, I see how much time has passed. I have not gotten very far. I know, you will say I have gotten far. To have a car and a job and a decent apartment in Los Angeles is more than many. To not be involved in some crazy dysfunctional relationship while living in LA is saying a lot. To not be wanting to slit my wrist or jump off a building is an accomplishment in this city. But still, I haven’t done much… I’m just now realizing that I haven’t done much… You will say that I have done a lot for a lot of people, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean I haven’t done much for myself.
I am like my friend that I met today. It hasn’t been ten years since I thought of being a writer, but it has been more than seven. And more than seven years later, I have barely completed two scripts and hardly made any submissions. And my reel is tiny and not put together. I haven’t made much progress… I have been busy getting my heart broken and jumping from relationship to relationship with idiot lying men… I have been busy subletting rooms and letting my apartment out and dealing with strange roommates… I have been hashing it out with family members who don’t want me to have visitors or who want to have visitors that I don’t want in the house. I have been doing everything except the work that You have asked me to do…
And now I am here, in the dusty city of LA, wondering what I should do with my life. I have help everywhere. Even my sis wants to help me, but she needs more help than I do. I am tired of running. I am tired of struggling. I am tired of always having some sort of issue in my life. I am tired of being a nobody and having so much potential and so many gifts, yet never actualizing them fully… I am tired of being tired.
I want to go to my neighbor’s house, but I don’t like his religion or the energy in his house. I want to go to my sister’s house, but I don’t like her husband. I want to go to my friend’s house, but I don’t like the smoke. I want to go to my other friend’s house, but I don’t like the smoke (or the fact that he’s probably going to flirt with me). I want to go to my other friend’s house, but it’s too small and there are bugs in his bed and he’s going to fall in love with me if I stay too long… I would love to stay with My People, but he is overwhelmed by people always wanting to stay with him. People want to stay with him because it is so rare to find a drama free person with a clean house and fresh energy here in LA… I want to go home, but there is no home. Hawaii is not home. It is a place of refuge; a place to stop and think; a place to get it together; but it is not home…
I want to know where home is…
I want my dad. Sometimes I just want to go away from here… So why am I writing You, God? Well, I guess I’ll ask You the question. What should I do with my life now? Or, better yet, where should I sleep tonight? Where should I sleep tomorrow? I have no place that I want to go. I have a little bit of money, but not enough to stay at a hotel every night. I haven’t been able to find a room I want to rent, and the sun sets at 5:30p here… And it’s 5:00… Do I get a ticket back to Hawaii with the money I have? Do I go to wherever my mamma is? Do I just stay with one of the people who are willing to help me? Do I stay here in LA? Period? Oh. I forgot. I have a brother here. He always wants to give people his unsolicited advice, though, and his advice is usually to quit whatever your dream is and settle for what is tangible…
You said that if I followed Your voice, You would take care of me. Well, I followed Your voice last night and didn’t go to anyone’s house like You told me, and I ended up sleeping in my car. And I followed Your voice and ended up in LA trying to be a writer instead of all of the other fantastic things I could have done with my life. And I followed Your voice and I ended up not being there for some of the people who I wanted to be there for because You told me to take care of myself. And I am here now, in the one and only Writer’s Guild Library in the United States, and I don’t know where I am going to sleep tonight… An old man is sitting across from me flirting with me and procrastinating…
And I don’t know about Your voice anymore, but it is all I have.
Tell me what to do, please. Tell me what to do, because my brain doesn’t work anymore, and I don’t have any answers… How do I create a life I want to be a part of? How do I get to the place where I am finally doing the work that You have asked me to do? How do I be sure of the voice and the inspiration You give me? It never makes any sense. People think that I am being selfish or crazy or whatever else when I don’t do what would appear to be the move that helps others. They don’t understand… Or maybe I don’t understand. I don’t know anything anymore, but I have nothing to rely on but Your voice. So tell me what to do, please. Tell me how to stand up as a woman. Tell me how to get out of this seemingly endless nightmare that I call my life. Tell me how to have the life that You put in my dreams. Tell me how to be someone that I am proud of. Please. I can not continue on like this. I can not remain trapped in the fog of LA. I must do something with my life now. Enough is enough…
Please. Tell me what to do. Please… In the movies, I would walk outside and then have a major revelation. I know this isn’t the movies, but please give me a revelation. I’ll do the work. I’ll stay up late. My body works now. I have more energy. Please… Just tell me what to do… I will do it.
Ameen.
Day 423
The Question
Starting point. Ending points. Stability. So many thoughts. So much to do. Leaving soon. Four days. LA. Appointments. Lawyer stuff. Need to be there two days in Feb and one day in March.
Mom wants me to just go to appointments and come back to Hawaii. She is worried about my safety and health.. Hawaii. Beautiful place for healing. Peaceful. Gentle. Nourishing. Purifying. I Love it here…
I am thinking about the rest of my life and I am thinking about foundation building. This is the beginning of the rest of my life. Whatever came before this is just over. People who used to know me see me and think I am who I used to be, but I am not. I have changed. I am a butterfly now. There are wings on my side that will take me anywhere I want to go.
The only question is, what do I do now? Where do I go? What’s the plan for the rest of my life now? You say I have to create it, but I don’t even know where to start. With my movies? My songs? My books? The play I’m going to write? Where do I live? Here in paradise where people take it easy? Or out in LA where everything is always busy? What if I was able to live anywhere in the world and have enough money to get just the kind of living space I want and I could work from anywhere in the world and just fly to people or have them fly to me when I was ready to collaborate? Because, in truth, when you are a butterfly, and when you work as a writer, you truly can be anywhere in the world and get your work done.
And what about a man? I know that I will get one exactly when I want one.
So again, we come back to the only question that exists once you are free. What exactly do you want to be doing with this thing called life? Without the feeling that I’m obliged to try and save some people, and without the agreement to try and make others happy; without some man telling me to get on his team and live here and do this, that, and the other; without a kid forcing me to hustle so that I can make money for whatever; and without a car note or a house note to pay; without a super sickness stopping me from taking certain actions; and without the limitation of money (or I should say with the delusion that I don’t have the limitation of money); without depression or all that emotional stuff that keeps one moored to the bed… Well, there isn’t anyone or anything to blame for the decisions I make. There is no reason for me to do or not do anything.
And the question still remains. What does one do when one is free? Allah, I’m not afraid. I’m just confused. What is the purpose of my life? Am I supposed to be like Ghandi or Mother Theresa or Maya Angelou? Or am I just supposed to live a quiet life somewhere with a house and a family and a job? How does one figure out what to do really do with one’s life when one realizes that you can really do or be anything you want? Have You programmed us with missions? Like, are there already things that we come with? Things we are supposed to do? Or do we just make it all up, like a story? I know, most of us are caught up and we just do what our mom or our culture or our man tells us to do. But what about the men? How do they figure out what to do?
Maybe I am like a man, because I am not looking to my mom or my culture or some man for guidance. I am looking to You. Tell me. Who am I and what am I to do with this life of mine? I need a home base now. A place with my own bed and a place that smells good. A place where I can burn incense and sing to the walls, lol. I’d like to do things in the world now, like make things. I think this impetus came from You, God, because I can’t understand for the life of me why I feel so compelled to write things and just express myself to the world. Where should my home be? I am going back to LA and I don’t know if I should be planning to get a stable place in LA or if I should just drop in and come back here to Hawaii and then get my own place out here. But, even though Hawaii is by far the most peaceful place I’ve ever been, somehow it doesn’t feel like the place I want to live. It feels like the place I want to come and visit, for some months or so, so I can rejuvenate, but it feels like home is somewhere else.
And I don’t know where home is. The only time I’ve ever really understood what being home means is when I met My People, but he wasn’t ready and maybe not even willing to make a home with me…
Home for me is everywhere, isn’t it? Tell me. Guide me, now, into this abyss where everything is possible. I can not see the end of my story, and there are only a few things that I can see on the outline. How can I take any action when I don’t where the story ends? If I don’t know the ending, it’s hard for me to know which direction to focus in…
– What do you want your life to be about?
I want to be the hero that I have never had… Strange… I want my life to be about You. I don’t even know what that means. To me, You are everything. I want to help set people free and I want to bask in the glory and the beauty of my own freedom. I want to see the sun with others who have eyes to see. I want to make Love and make babies and I want to know that I am safe here in my own skin, no matter where I go.
Let us just push delete. Delete the fear. Just delete it. It’s OK. The world has enough of it to remind you of all the things that could go wrong on a daily basis. The free do not make decisions based on what they are afraid of. We choose based on what we want our lives to be about. It is a forward choice. And so I am more clear…
LA calls me home. For now. We will find a room with clean linens. A place to pray. We will fill our bodies with fresh food.. I want to fly now. I want to bless others with my butterfly presence and I want to smell flowers and be blessed by the presence of all You have created as well. I want to make a home somewhere and I want to make things: songs and dances and movies and plays and books. I can see a faint picture of my life in my mind’s eye. This is for me.
Allah, I am ready to take the next step. I am ready to start life as a butterfly. Thank you for taking me this far. I open up my wings…
Ameen.
Day 422
Freedom Songs
Ground Zero
Fear
Of starting over
Of starting anything
I can not write poems when I lay on my belly
The words don’t flow
I have to get up
Sit up
Stand up
Here at ground zero
Everything is behind me
Everything is in front
Everything is here and now
Pure choice, they call it
Decide who you want to be
Decide who you want to be
Decide who you are
And Live it
Be it
Bring it
Share it
Decide what you will receive.
Decide no Fear.
No Fear
No fear…
No fear.
Who was I before the war?
Survivor’s guilt.
My smile remains in tact and I am nicer than before.
How have I become invincible, God?
Will I be enough?
Will I be OK?
Decide no fear.
Without fear, ground zero is a trampoline and not a desert.
It is fertile soil. It is an adventure. It is anything you can imagine.
Without fear, I am smarter than I’ve ever been and golden light surrounds me, welcoming me home.
Love pulls me forward.
Can you feel the air here? There is the sweet caress of gentle nothingness.
Choose and it shall be.
Decide no fear. Decide wisdom. Decide brilliance. Decide Love. Decide humility. Decided happiness. Decide abundance. Decide to be supported. Decide to be supportive. Decide. Decide. Decide.
Decide to be brave. Decide to be kind.
Choice is all there is, my Love.
Choice is all there is.
This is your new life
This is your new life.
The war is over.
Welcome home.
I’m an artist. I don’t know if I’ve ever said that out loud before. I might have said it here…
I’m trying to find the words for this feeling that is welling up inside of me. A friend of mine died last week. He was more than a friend. He was a soulmate. He had wanted for us to be married, but I didn’t want to marry him. And so he asked me, “Well, if you’re not going to marry me, can we at least do God’s work together?”
And that is the point. I told him that I would work with him, and I wanted to work with him on all of the brilliant projects that he had, and he kept telling me to hurry up, but I didn’t move fast enough. And now he is dead. I’m going to do what I can with the work he left behind, but it would be nothing like it would have been if I had done the work with him. He was him and I am me. And I don’t know anyone who is big enough and humble enough and caring enough and strong enough and confident enough to do his work the way he would have done it.
He thought I was. He thought I was a leader and a saint and all of these good things. He thought I was supposed to make stuff and help people, whatever that means… I don’t know if I’m a saint. I’m definitely a sinner with some insight every now and then… He was an old man. I liked to listen to him talk about me, because I knew he was telling me the truth: he was telling me the truths that I sometimes wouldn’t even dare tell myself.
Like, I am an artist. And I have things in me to give to the world. I don’t know where these things come from. I don’t know why they are here. It’s not that I want to be rich. It’s not that I want to be famous. It’s not that I want to say, “Yay, me. Look at me.” That’s not the point.
The point is, I’m supposed to be rich. I’m supposed to reach a lot of people. It’s part of why I am here. It’s the thing about being an artist.
We come here on missions. I know. None of it makes sense. It doesn’t even make sense to me. I have always been a quiet girl. I have always been shy. But I’ve always felt like I was supposed to do something here, not just have a man and some kids and work a job somewhere. I mean, I would love to have a man and some kids and work a job somewhere, but that’s not the point.
How can I bring to words what I know, God? What are You trying to say through me in this moment?
I miss my friend. I am sorry that I will not get to hug him again. I am sorry that we will not get to do God’s work together. I am sorry, my dear friend, that I did not understand the urgency of it all… I didn’t understand, God, that the time to do Your work is now.
Sigh…
One day, you just have to stand up and say, “I am ready now.” You can always keep practicing. You can always keep getting better. But one day, you just have to stop bullshitting. Do your work. Do your thing, man. Stop acting like your life doesn’t mean anything, because it does, artist or not.
We are busy lying to each other and lying to ourselves. We are busy hurting each other. We are busy wallowing in our own miseries and pretending like everything is OK. And I know. I couldn’t write these words if I hadn’t gone through my own journey of lying to myself and hurting people and being hurt and experiencing the depths of powerlessness and victim-hood. I wouldn’t be able to understand what it feels like to be overwhelmed by the ocean of water in your head sometimes, and I wouldn’t be able to recognize the eyes of the broken-hearted had I not experienced some of the things I’ve experienced. I wouldn’t know this concept called compassion and I wouldn’t have awakened the part of me that must come alive in order to break free of all you have ever known.
I know that being down-and-out has a place, too. And
I know that we are not always ready to do God’s work.
I know that we are not always ready to face the truth.
I know that fear is real and everyone will not be able to move past their fears – at least not in this lifetime.
But if you are ready – warriors, priests, Queens, Kings, workers, laymen, artists, mathematicians, healers, mothers, fathers, followers and leaders – If you are ready, it is urgent.
The Universe is calling you out of your pain. It is calling You to be whole. It is calling you to Love now. Give now. Do your thing now. It is calling you to move on and move past this part. It is calling you to connect with Your People. They will help you. God is calling you to get over your pettiness, now. Just forgive, already. Forgive, while you still can. Let your heart be at ease. Let your life be at ease…
My Spirit is waking up at last… Something in me is finally trumping all of the fears that I’ve had all these years. Something in me finally gets it. There is no time to waste.
Allah, I want to package up this feeling I’m feeling right now and keep it with me for the moments when fear and doubt will try and get in the way of me moving forward. I want to take this realization with me for the moments when pride will try and stop me from being loving and giving and forgiving. My Dear Friend who has crossed over to the other side, please help me to always remember who I am. Please help me to finally do God’s work.
I finally understand. I finally get it. It is urgent.
Ameen.
Day 420
The Urgency of Art. (And Life. And Love.)
Hey there…
It’s been a pretty challenging week. Probably the most challenging week I’ve had since I’ve been in Hawaii. I haven’t gotten much done. I don’t know how or why not.
This was my day: I woke up at 7am to the sound of mom chastising niece. Usually, I try and pray and meditate and stretch from 7a-9a, and then I start working on my writing from 9a to noon. Then after noon, I take a lunch break and rest, and I work on other stuff from 2 to five. That’s in my dream schedule.
It doesn’t seem to always work out like that unless I leave the house. If I stay in the house, it usually works out like this: I wake up at 7. If I manage to get out of the door and go to the backyard before 7:15a (before my nephew wakes up), then I can do my routine until about 11, when someone inevitably bothers me. Then, when I come in the house at anywhere in between 11 and noon, it’s anything goes. There is always someone with something going on and they want you to participate in it…
So today I woke up at 7. I did not escape to the backyard by 7:15, so my mom found me. She was mad and in a rush to drop my niece off at school. She asked me if I could get my nephew ready for daycare. So I did. I put his clothes on him and helped him brush his teeth and combed his hair. He cried about me using the wrong toothpaste and combing his hair too fast. He got an attitude about the toothpaste and I threatened to whoop him, and then he started to listen to me. He and I had both brushed our teeth by 7:50a, and then I tried to do some stretches. Right then, my mom came home from dropping off my niece.
The night before, she had told me that she had a doctor’s appointment at 9 that morning. It didn’t matter if I start work at 9. My work does not seem important, since it is not a job job. Even though I usually don’t work more than four hours in a day, I am told that I work too much. So, since my mom was going to a doctor’s appointment, she asked if I could watch my one-year-old niece. Also today, someone was supposed to be dropping off a new couch that my sis bought.
So my mom came home about 8a, had a nervous breakdown because she couldn’t find her socks or my nephew’s slippers (by nervous breakdown, I mean she started whining and complaining about her lost socks, and then when she couldn’t find nephew’s shoes, she started crying). She left around 8:30. By that time I was mad as hell. I went and warmed up the baby’s bottle, because I knew she would be waking up soon.
My other sister who lives with us was at the sister’s house who doesn’t live with us. She usually watches the babies in the morning, and she was supposed to have been home this morning, but she was at my other sister’s house and hadn’t told anyone when she was coming home. I sent her a mean and angry text for not being here and for being at my sanctuary. She responded with a mean and angry text. Then the baby woke up. It’s about 8:45 now. Right when the baby woke up, the furniture people showed up. So I went downstairs real quick and let the furniture people in. Then I went upstairs and got the baby. I fed her her milk while the folks set up the couch. They left around 8:55. Then I changed baby’s diaper and got done right at 9a, which is when my writing coach called.
I was mad and frustrated. My minimum daily amount for writing is fifteen minutes a day, but I almost always write longer than that. Today, my coach told me to write for fifteen minutes. I took out my paper (I’m mapping out character arcs right now), but I was so frustrated I couldn’t write anything. I just stared into space. Fifteen minutes passed, and I had written two lines. My writing coach called me back and we did a therapy session, releasing mental blocks… Done around 10:15a.
Then the baby wanted to play. She wanted me to read her a book and when I didn’t, she threw a temper tantrum. I gave her some food, played with her, read her a book and put her to bed for her nap. 11:00a. I had an appointment for a job at 1p. I knew my mom would be coming home from her doctor’s appointment any minute, so I took some time to meditate and said loud “Ommmmm’s” before mom got home. She arrived right after I had gotten done saying my tenth “Om”. Talk talk talked about her doctor’s appointment. 11:40a. Had to leave house by 12:30p in order to make 1:00 appointment. Legs needed shaving. Hair needed washing. Got dressed. 12:32. Left house.
Made it to appointment right on time. Done by 1:30p. Hungry. Hadn’t eaten all day. Didn’t want to go home. Wanted to go to beach/park and work, but left my computer at home. !!!! Needed to get balanced. Spirit out of whack. Sad. Mad. Annoyed. Not feeling in control of much. Need space. Space. Space. Time. Needed time to breathe. I just want to get my work done. I just want to get well. Put beach on GPS. At least I could go there and meditate until I felt balanced. Read my books until I see something that will stop me from getting lost in this downward spiral of negative emotions.
On the way to beach. Passed by restaurant called SEEDS. Sounds good. Healthy. Pulled over. Hidden food complex. Jamaican restaurant right next to SEEDS. Looked at both menus. Jamaican seemed better. Went to Jamaican restaurant. Ate. Jamaican restaurant looked like restaurant that Dream Lover’s cousin owns. Memories. I Loved him so much. We used to be in his cousin’s restaurant just dancing in front of everyone. Having a good time. Natural. He told everyone I was his wife. And you tell me he had a secret life? You tell me he had a secret kid? Why? Why, God? I went to his Facebook page. None of it even mattered. I didn’t even care about his secret life or his secret kid. I forgive you, I thought. I Loved you so much. I haven’t danced with anyone I love since you, and it has been years, I thought. We were not supposed to end the way we ended, with a disappearing act… I was going to send him a Facebook message, but when I went to type, I saw the previous messages I had sent him. Years ago. They had never been read. I saw the friend request I had sent at least a year ago. It had never been accepted. It had been years, God, since I’ve had a real Love. Random heartbreak punched me in the chest. Not gonna cry at restaurant. Left.
2:30p. Nephew’s car seat is in the car I’m driving. They need it to pick him up by 5p. I need to be home by 4:30p… Sigh…
Headed home. Will go to neighborhood park and chill out. Arrive at neighborhood park. . Text mom and tell her I’ll be home by 4p. 3p now. Turn off car. Breathe. Cry… I don’t know why. I wish I was done with stuff. I wish I could make a daily schedule and stick to it. I wish I had a space of my own where I wasn’t bothered and I could just do what I want to do in a day. I wish I was well already and I didn’t have to worry about my energy just giving out at any moment when I have stuff to do. I have to go back to LA soon to handle some business. There is nothing in LA for me. My sis is pregnant and will need a friend. My friend, who nursed me back to life, is sick and doesn’t think anyone in the world can help him but me. Wants to live with me and be where I am until he gets well. I have no money to support folks with…
There is no food for me. There is no one to nourish me. People try, and they help a bit, but they are mostly too sick themselves. Unresolved rage. Denial issues. Demons surrounding their energy field. Undiagnosed chronic depression. No one believes in energy fields. No one believes in demons. No one believes in intuition. No one believes in being guided by one’s heart.
No one understands that anything good or true that ever happened to me only happened when I followed my heart and intuition.
Sat in my car and cried. Tired. Don’t want to fight my sister. Think she has issues with me. I’m so over it… Sis just came home. Nephew just came home. Gonna be kicked out of his room soon… Sigh…
Sis is gonna want to go and stay at other sis’s house. Why wouldn’t she? Why wouldn’t I? I should want to go. I do. But I feel like the move will be a big deal. I feel like my mom needs me. I feel like the energy of this house needs me. It sounds stupid, I know. But my mom is worse off than me. She needs Love and care more than anyone in this world. Everyone’s always asking her for shit and wanting her to be there for them, but no one even notices when she’s dying. And she’s dying. I’ve helped bring a little light to her life, but it’s not sustainable. I can’t sustain this, Allah. I am feeling drained and I have no food. No spiritual food. No like-minded soul that I can be honest and open with. Nobody who is interested in truly creating a balanced and stable inner life with a foundation of integrity and truth… If I am to help all of these people, if this is my calling, then it is OK with me, but I need to know how and where I can go to get nourishment and get well…
Got home at 4:15p today. Stayed in car until 4:30 and let the sun touch my face. 12-yr-old niece came outside and got me so I can come in… Came in house. Talked to mom. Ate. Talked to sis. Talked to niece. Played with baby. Watched Wheel of Fortune. Started writing this blog around 7:00p. It’s 7:48p now. I’m glad I wrote. The longest blog entry I’ve written since I started this thing…
Cathartic. Thank you for reading about my shit. I got invited to join a dance group out here. I declined because my energy was all messed up this week and I think the commitment might be too much for my body… My People’s not into me. Maybe he is, but he’s not pursuing me or trying to get to know me any better, so it’s all the same to me… There is no lover to cuddle with. There is nobody on this journey with me. I am the strong one here. I am the leader here. And it’s OK. I’m OK with being strong. I’m OK with leading.
But I need your help, Allah. Help me to fully get to the other side, please. I know. Today is just one day. But our lives are just a compilation of day after day. This is some grown-up, brave shit. I’m not going to let this day, or this year, or all that has happened before now stop me from moving forward. Nope. You say heartbreak is mend-able, right? You say my body is fixable. You say my mind and Spirit are capable of being balanced and aligned. Yes? I’m in it, then. Tell me what to do. I’m in it to win it. Yes. I’m in it to win it. I will not stop! I will keep going. And on days like this, I will come to You and commit myself even more. I will let my ego fall apart. I will say sorry. I will restructure, rebuild, realign and communicate. I will reach out. I am reaching out. Will you help me, Allah? You say You will. You say just keep moving. Just take it day by day…
Day by day.
Day 419
Day By Day
Hey.
I have about forty-five minutes before I have to go and do my niece’s hair. I pulled a twenty-four hour shift yesterday. I woke up at 4:30am and was busy doing stuff all the way until 4:30am this morning.
I am amazed and grateful that I was actually able to be on “go” for twenty-four hours straight. A month ago, I couldn’t have done that even if I wanted to. I saw my doctor yesterday. He’s the most awesome doctor ever. Perfect for me. He’s a classically trained chiropractor, but he’s also knowledgeable about Eastern medicine and energy medicine. Yesterday, he tested my electromagnetic field in order to find out if I had imbalances or deficiencies in the different parts of my brain. He gave me some nutritional supplements afterwards and suggested that I do a 21 day detox program, which consists of me eating different foods for twenty-one days. I’m excited about getting started…
I’m feeling a little groggy and moody right now. I sent My People a text earlier today and he didn’t respond. Sigh… Sometimes, Allah, I wish that I could just get started with my dreams already. I don’t know what My People is up to. He could be out in a forest somewhere meditating or he could be romped up with some woman or he could be sitting at home drinking tea and just deciding not to communicate with me, for all I know. I’m not upset with him, because he’s awesome and he’s never led me on or anything, but I’m just upset.
I have to go back to the world soon, but I don’t want to go back to the world by myself. And I don’t want to go back to some stupid job that pays the bills just for the sake of having a job. Last night was my sister’s birthday. And we went out to dinner with her and some of her friends. And one of the people at the dinner table was an old 65 year old lady. She works in media, but in news, not in creative stuff. I told her I was a writer and she took an interest in me and told me that the only thing I will regret in life is not following my heart. She told me to continue following my heart… I got the feeling that she had wanted to do something creative with her life once upon a time.
What happens when you follow your heart but it doesn’t get you anywhere? I love my family in Hawaii, but I would like to have a bed again and be comfy again. I would like to decorate my space for once and have flowers and paint my walls and burn incense and sing out loud in the house like I used to. I would like a husband to come home to. I know I can have friends and I will and do have friends, but I would like a husband now.
And I guess I’m frustrated because I thought You had finally sent me my husband, but he’s not ready to be with me, or he doesn’t pick me, or whatever. And I can’t dream about building a life with him because he (being the noble man that he is) hasn’t given me any rope to hang myself with. And I don’t want to wait for him to figure himself out. I don’t want to wait for twenty-one more days before I can get well and get started with the next part of my life. I want to be done already. And I want to get started with my dream life already. I want My People (or somebody) to be here getting to know me and building with me already.
What else do I have to do, God?
…
The good news is, even when I am feeling all frustrated and confused, I know that the moment will pass and I will have clarity and peace soon. Even as I am here writing out my frustrations, I know that they will end in a moment, and I will find You, God, right where you have always been. Here with me. So shall we skip to the clarity and peace part now?
I am here thinking about survival stuff again. How will I make money? I need to start working soon. What job should I apply for? Should I go back to LA? I can never get my mind to believe that I can make money writing and doing my projects. In the back of my mind, it’s always like, “I can do such and such job and then do my projects on the side.” It’s never like, I can make money from doing my projects. And I am afraid of LA now. The smog. The stinky streets. The warning sign at the front of my apartments that says that standing by my mailbox may cause harm to pregnant women. The opportunistic, fake people who are always more concerned about work than anything else.
I like some things about LA. I like my spiritual center. I like the fact that you can do freelance work really easy. I like that fact that there are a lot of people willing to collaborate on entertainment projects. I like my favorite park out there. And I like the way the sun shines through the windows in my apartment. I like the tree with the pink flowers right outside of my bedroom window. I don’t have many fulfilling relationships in LA, though. I don’t hug anyone from my heart like I hug my nieces and nephew in Hawaii.
The people in Hawaii are innocents. Not just my family. The culture here is warm and authentic and pure. The air is pure. The water is clean and fresh. Smiles are genuine…
Allah, I am ready now. You keep telling me to do the same thing. You keep telling me to do my projects and see what happens. You keep telling me to follow through on the ideas that I have already had. You keep telling me to keep my heart open in the direction You guide me. Don’t betray my heart. Be patient, OK. If I have done everything You have asked and things still haven’t worked out, then come talk to You again. But see what You have done? See, how I am here, in the land of healing, with the best doctor I can imagine, and Love, and support, and food and sun… and time? See where you have led me? Be patient and obedient and know that the rest is on its way.
-Just let the fears fall away. Let them. I am here changing you. I am here molding you into the leader you are destined to be. I am here humbling you. I am here refining you. I am here nourishing and purifying you like you asked. I am here. Only acknowledge me and you will see that I have always been here. Patience…
Ameen.
Day 418
Patience
Good morning World! How are you?
I have touched the source of my being this morning… I watched a service from my spiritual center online this morning. That center was my favorite part of living in LA. I received so much food for my soul there.
And this morning I am in Love. Not with any particular person. I am in Love with life. Oh, I know. Life sucks. But it’s also beautiful. I was listening to My People give a speech online. He was speaking about claiming one’s inheritance. He was saying that all of us are given everything we need…
My People called me on New Year’s Day. I hadn’t heard from him in about a month and I was missing him. His presence always inspires me to go deeper within myself. Emotions wake up, and I start thinking about the purpose of life. The thing about him is that I never feel hurt in his presence. I never feel like he will hurt me. There is a profound sense of safety with him and there is so much honesty between us. I don’t want anything from him. It is the strangest feeling. I just want to be connected to him, and I want him to be happy. And if being my man would make him happy, then I would want that for him. But if he doesn’t feel the connection and the love and the excitement and all that he would want from a partner with me, then I would still want him to be happy elsewhere, and I would Love him and I would still want to be connected to him in the way that suits us best…
What would make me happy, you ask? Well… I’m already happy right now. I can honestly say that I am sitting here on an island with absolutely no guarantees about anything at all in life, and I am happier than I’ve ever been. And this makes me happy… What I would want from a man is someone who is sure that he wants to share his love with me and someone who wants to build a life with me. That is not the only requirement, but that is the one thing that is necessary… For now, I know that My People is interviewing me and figuring out what he wants to do with his life. And I have a little more preparation to do before I will be ready to fully partner up with a man, so everything is going well. I am faithful that my life partner exists and I know that when the time is right, we will connect with each other and continue on a new journey together…
In the meantime, I am thinking about Love… I am thinking that my Hawaii healing will be ending soon and I must face the world again. This place was designed for healing. It is a place for ease. It is a place where children learn how to smile and get along with one another. I really Love this place and I would like to always be connected to this place. Maybe I will have a home here and raise my children here and connect with the rest of the world on a project to project/seasonal basis. I think it’s important that we all take some time and space, at some point in our lives to be renewed and refreshed to know what it is to feel at peace…
This is another post about nothing. If I keep writing, I will get somewhere. I just felt like reaching my hand out and offering something to someone who may be wanting what I have to share. I felt like touching the world and being a part of everything. Because I touched the Source of everything and there is no point in knowing anything if you are not going to use what you know and share who you are.
I can not dance for you, and you probably wouldn’t want to see me dance anyway. And I don’t have money to give, dear reader. I can not make your dreams come true and I can’t take away your pains. But I can give you words. And don’t say that words are nothing, because words are the beginning of everything for many of us. In our human agreements, they are one of the first expressions of thoughts, and after them, action follows.
Words can identify your pains and words can help you find a way to release them and heal them. And words can name your dreams and words can plant seeds in your mind that help you actualize those dreams. And dear reader, words can type, write, talk and plan your way into jobs, situations, and opportunities that can get you money. There is power in words. I recognize this.
And this New Year, my only resolution is to use my words more wisely. This is my gift: the usage of words… We are not victims anymore. So let us get over this idea that we have no power. Even the most destitute of us all can get up today and say, “I choose.”
I choose to drink a glass of water.
I choose to get off the bed.
I choose to smile just to see what that feels like.
I choose to touch my toes.
I choose to imagine what life could be if I had a choice.
I choose to write a poem and share it with someone.
I choose to say I’m sorry.
I choose to forgive.
I choose to take a bath and touch my skin.
I choose to eat so I can live.
I choose to live.
I choose to live.
I choose to live.
I choose to find a book to help me.
I choose to find a voice to help me.
I choose to find a song to help me.
I choose to demonstrate the wisdom and knowledge that I have gained.
I choose not to fight.
I choose to fight for my life.
I choose to choose.
I choose to look at this word, “power”.
I choose to think.
I choose to think of what power means to me.
I choose to think of what I would like power to mean for me.
I choose to participate in the creation of my own experience of this life.
I choose to allow myself to be helped.
I choose to participate. I choose to participate. I choose to participate.
I choose to let the fullness of my potential be actualized in this incarnation.
I choose to radiate life.
I choose to actualize the fullness of my potential.
I choose to give.
I choose to receive.
I choose…
I choose to give something, anything, good to someone who will receive it. Even a word… Even a word.
Thank you, God.
Ameen.
Day 417
The Words
Well, well, well… This is my attempt at getting balanced. I have some “me” time for about forty-five minutes, before I have to go back home to the fam. I’m at my other sister’s apartment right now. The single one who lives alone in a comfy, quiet, bright, peaceful space in the middle of town in Hawaii. I asked her if I could come here and work while she went to work…
I could have stayed here with her. She invited me to stay here about a week ago, and I was supposed to move in, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to leave my mom and my other sis and the kids at the other house. It felt like they needed me. I know. I am nothing, and no one really needs anyone, but my mom was pretty bad off, and sometimes it takes a person from the outside to see what’s really going on with people. She was sick. She is sick. Nothing major, but a lot of little things. Feet hurt. Legs hurt. Low-grade depression. Needing to be noticed. Needing to be Loved…
My sis does her best. She does a good job, but she has her own issues. She has two children under the age of four, and she’s in medical residency, so she works a whole lot. And she has a husband. She barely has time for her own life…
I see that it is not only me who came here to Hawaii to be healed. The people here were in need of a healing, too. And although I don’t have much to give, the things that I have to give are just the things that they needed here: a foot massage, a little more noticing of one another…
I feel super emotional and I don’t know why… So much suffering in the world. I realize that I am not so sad anymore. I mean, I get sad and discouraged sometimes. I have doubts and fears… But I see them for what they are: doubts, fears, sadness, anger. That’s all they are. They are not me. I am more than them. And I have been practicing, Allah. I have been practicing choosing other things when the doubts and the fears and the sadness try to consume me. Like now.
Thank you for this moment. Now I choose to write all of this confusion out of me. I chose to come to my sister’s place so that I could have some time alone. I chose to hire my writing coach again so I can get some help finally getting my projects out there. Thank you for making me aware of these choices, Allah.
This blog isn’t about anything today. It’s just me working out all the things in my mind so that I can be balanced when I go home. I think the time is already here: It is time to be my powerful self. I have been afraid of so much.
I was at the beach this morning. The Hawaii beach is different than the Cali beaches. There is no smoking. No loud music. It’s super clean. The water is really clear. The skies are super blue. And right next to the water, there’s the sand. And right next to the sand, there are parks and trees bordering the beach. No big stores. The vibe is different. It is as if this place were made for healing and rejuvenation. I was running in the sand at the beach and feeling my shins open up. I haven’t been able to run in so long… But I ran this morning, and I had to ask you, Allah, how I got here.
And I had to thank You. And I’m thanking You now, for bringing me here. I’m thanking you for saving me. I’m thanking you for putting a hold on my life and making everything fall apart. Yes. Thank you. I asked for it, didn’t I? I asked to start over. Why do we ask to start over and then think that everything is going to be the same? Thank you for doing a major overhaul on everything. Thank You for allowing me to help bring peace to my family and thank you for the peace and the practice they are bringing to me.
Some times it is hard not to butt into people’s lives, but I will trust You. I know that everyone is evolving at the perfect pace for them. I just wanted to touch base with You, God. I am OK with this time of my life. I will be here until I learn to find balance here, and I am learning fast. And then, no matter where I go, I will be there: a balanced woman; a happy woman; a woman who comes with peace; a woman who understands love; a strong woman; a powerful woman; a kind woman; a woman who is comfortable in her own skin; a purposeful woman; a joyful woman; a faithful believer; a committed woman.
Allah, sometimes I feel like it’s not fair for me to be so lucky. I feel like I am leaving some of my companions behind. I feel like I made it out of the darkness and they didn’t, and it’s not fair. And I want to stop going forward until they come. And I don’t want to write about good things…
And You are telling me to keep writing about good things. You never know who is reading. You are telling me to keep moving forward.
-You see, our lives are all our lives. This I have given You to do, and when you do what I have given you to do, all whom you touch are touched by Me, in their own time. In their own. You open your arms wider now. Straighten up your back. Smile as big as you can and write about it. Work about it. Dance about it. There is no shame in happiness. Don’t worry about them. They will find their own way when it is time. And you, my dear, are helping them to know that a way can be found.
…
This blog entry is all over the place, but so was my mind. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but whatever it was, it’s worked out now. I feel more balanced. I feel like we are back in conversation, Allah, and that’s all I need to keep moving forward and to enjoy where I’m at that. Thank you so much for this. Thank you.
Ameen.
Day 416
Balance
Dear You,
I miss you. What I miss most is the feeling of flying and the pure joy. I miss the honesty between us. I miss the way your house felt, like open space: clean and pure. I miss the wisdom and compassion in your eyes. You said you would hold a space for me, and so I am speaking to this space: I am here. I am here. I am here. I know I have a lot of growing to do, but I am ready now. I know how to Love now. I know how to be in my own skin now. I am no longer afraid to live. I know, all my dreams are ahead of me. I am sure that I can do it all by myself, but I feel no pride in doing it by myself anymore. You don’t have to save me. I can save myself. I just want you to be with me sometimes. Hold my hand sometimes. Smile with me sometimes. Pray with me sometimes. Sit and be quiet with me sometimes. Share love with me. Talk about limitlessness. Plan things and do them… Let me dance for you. Let me dance for you…
The war is over.
The fighting is done.
And all I have are love poems, because I don’t care about anything but Love. No, I don’t care about anything but Love. Finally, it has come to this.
They wanted to break me. The others. They wanted me to die. But somehow I am still here. I can not take credit. I don’t know how I’m still here, writing Love poems without a place to put them… But they told me, the pieces of myself, they told me that if I kept writing, if I kept digging deeper, then a place would be made, and you would come and find the poems that I have been writing just for you.
They would be like a beacon of light guiding You my way.
And so I write. I write for my life. I write because there is nothing left for me to do but believe. I write because I will explode if I keep these words inside. I write to sing my own lullabies. I write to set myself free.
Dear You,
I am here. Writing Love poems. Come and get them, baby. Come and get them…
Ameen.
Day 415
On Writing Love Poems
There is so much to write about.
But can I start with telling you about what happened today? I went to the doctor – a chiropractor out here. I had been to him once before, last week, but I don’t know if I wrote about it.
So… If you don’t know, I’ve been sick. For a long time. Over a year. At the worst of my sickness, I had zero energy. If you have never had zero energy, it will be hard for you to understand what that means. You will think that I was lazy, or depressed, or that I just needed to motivate myself to get up and do something, but that wasn’t it. I had zero energy. I literally couldn’t even get up to save my life, and at the worst of my sickness, I would just lay on the floor of my apartment and pray that I didn’t die. I couldn’t get up to eat. I couldn’t get up to go to my bed. My muscles hurt everywhere. It was really bad.
Well, I didn’t die. A friend of mine came and stayed with me and helped me get better. He cooked for me and made sure I ate healthy foods every day. He made sure I went outside and went on walks with me and was patient when I walked super slow and would have to stop and rest often. Doctors did all kinds of tests on me and diagnosed me with several musculo-skeletal conditions, but none of their treatment methods worked. I was horrified and I couldn’t do much. And on top of that, the people in my inner circle were having so many issues and reaching out to me for help, and I couldn’t help them. I didn’t know if my life was going to stay like that forever. I didn’t know if I was just gonna be a disabled woman with no energy and all these pains, who looked like a normal woman, and so most people didn’t even believe I was sick!
When the doctors would do their tests, they would gloss over some “nerve irritation” that would always show up, saying it was no big deal. Finally, I decided to do my own research. I didn’t believe in any of their diagnoses. I looked up nerve irritation and came upon a condition which seemed like exactly what I had. The medical community has not made it an “official” condition yet, and the treatment for it is relatively new and considered an “alternative” treatment method. This past March, I found a doctor in Cali who did the treatment, and I immediately starting feeling better. He was a chiropractor, and he was very expensive. All the Hollywoods went to him. I got better quick, but I couldn’t afford to see him as many times as I as supposed to. So eventually, my health reached a plateau, and I had gone from about 10% functional to roughly 65% functional. It was good enough to at least be independent, and eventually my friend/nurse left.
Fast forward to today. I hadn’t been getting better for several months, but I hadn’t been getting worse either, so I was just learning how to live at 65% functionality. But then I came to Hawaii. I got a job and worked for about a week, thinking I could it, but I couldn’t. I started getting exhausted again. My body pains started getting worse. I was getting worse… And so I sought out a doctor here. I went online and found the one doctor on this whole island who does the treatment that I need. My sis (God bless her soul) said she would help finance my recovery.
Last week, I went to Dr. Magic, a little Hawaiian man around my age, and he literally touched almost every painful spot that I have had on my body this past year or so. He knew exactly where they were just by touching me. The good news, he said, was that I was fixable. The bad news was that was a lot of fixing to be done.
I saw him for our second session today. He was primary releasing nerve entrapment in my hips and thighs. And let me tell you something… This past year, there has been a pain that goes deep, deep in my inner thigh and travels deep somewhere behind my ribs… It is so deep that I can never touch it and there are very few stretches that I can do that even come close to helping me feel some relief in those areas… Well today, he touched it. I’ve never pushed a baby out of me, so I don’t know how painful that is, but I can bet that the pain I felt today probably comes near… I screamed. I sweat. I told him that I didn’t think I could bear it as he twisted, popped, kneaded and stretched the pain out of my body… And then it was over. And now I am sitting here writing my blog. As I breathe, I feel breath going in to areas of my back that didn’t feel alive before. I feel movement in my hips.
How can I capture this feeling? The feeling of coming back to life? The feeling of opening? I can remember the moments that I started to close. I can remember the moments that my heart started to break. I can remember the moments that my muscles began assuming a defensive position and started staying that way. How can I explain? Those moments had formed solid pictures. They had become me. I had become them. All of that pain had become a solid thing within me. But in this moment, those moments, those memories, shattered like glass. They just fell apart. They were only memories. They are no longer who I am…
I am amazed at this magical doctor. All this time, there was someone in the world who could help fix me… And God, You sure do know how to teach a lesson. I am thinking about life and I am so hopeful. Sometimes it takes a while for you to find your way back to good. And some of us will bump our heads over and over again until we figure out what is wrong and how to make it right. Don’t stop trying, OK? Don’t stop trying to be better. Don’t stop trying to get well. Don’t start believing that the pain is all there is. It’s not true. It’s a lie. There is more to life than pain. Believe me. Please. There is so much more…
Ameen.
Day 414
More Than Pain
hownottocryeveryday 