Keeping Black Beauty Intact

 I have the blessed privilege of raising beautiful black children.  Many of us do.  I question myself daily about the job I’m doing in supporting them.  I watch them struggle and fret about how much to help them and how much they must learn on their own.  Some days I pray for them and some days I cry.  It's a rough job.  Keeping Black Beauty in tact. 

I fight daily to protect them enough from the slings and arrows of American society.  But not too much or they never learn to protect themselves.  Right now, I am doing something I call black bagging.  I have black (trash)bagged my 12 year old’s life.  All the things that society has told her she must have.  It's all in trash bags.  I cleaned out her closets and took away her clothes.  Everything.  

Everything but traditional wear. 

She has lappas.  Traditional African clothes.  She can wear them.  To school. To the mall.  Anywhere she chooses to go.  Recently, she has been getting a lot of emails home about attitude.  About grades and the like.  So I decided to hit reset.  For me, black bagging my girls (She isn’t the first) is about reminding them so see beauty in themselves.  It's a challenge to remember that in and of themselves is beauty.  Natural, sure and pure. 

I’ve know this moment was coming.  I’ve procrastinated in employing the tactic because for them it is hard.  It is mean.  Maybe even cruel.  To push them out into the world without all the standard issue items for all to see is down grade.  I know better though.  I know that in these days to follow she will find strength and pride in her culture.  She will remember who she is at home, at school and everywhere.  It is not a punishment.  It is a gift. 

It is my way of saying to little birds, “you can fly.”  I know it.  I see your wings.  I know they are strong.  So I push them.  Each time, there are tears and sadness and fear but the result is beautiful.  They must learn to face this world as they are.  In their own power, strength and security.  Without all the accoutrements that they are told they must have. 

In a way, its an initiation.  A time to learn what it means to be an AFRICAN american woman in this world.  The television betrays them daily with images that don’t look like them.  The movies, the music videos, instagram, etc are no place for Black Beauty to be found in quantity.  (I don’t look there myself, but youthful minds do.  I’ve traveled my own road to reclaim my time...lol). 

But my children are beautiful.  I know it.  I want them to know it too.  So...

Today and everyday until I see this beautiful butterfly free, she will be draped in traditional color and fabric.  Even as the cold drab days of american winter settle in for a while, the sunshine of Africa will be her garment.  I will keep her intact.  Whole. Complete and utterly beautiful. 

Endless

Endless dead ends to choose from. But only one road.

Round and round I go, like an arrow from an archer's bow.

So many things to think but not know

Sweet invitations to taste and see

that the lord is Good/...God almighty

I want to be sure.

Certainty aludes me.

Restless moons rise above my sleeping place

I pace the floor of the cage with my heart

pounding and stomping

Snarling and gnashing of teeth

I would rend my defenses limb from limb

Accept, I want them

like them, need them, love them even.

Slivers of JuJu inserted strategically

casue confusion, delusion, illusion

But I am sure. Of that.

Steps slow and deliberate but without wisdom

I race forward arms flung wide

Smile wide

legs wide

stride wide

into the abyss

There is no way to know

if i can fly

If your wings are enough for both of us

If prowling heart will not devour all

that is left

I am a conservationist at heart. In heart.

I would rather give away bodies.

And visions.

And dreams.

And wishes.

Here I stay, in cage like finches

nails dug in like trenches

lines drawn in my mind like sand

while you reach for my hand.

So I rant, on and on

endless verse without consistent rhyme or reason

like time without season

the way my body betrayes me is like treason

your hands touch like salve

healing the urge to love what I can never have

Still i wait

Anticipating the eventual arrival of a pattern

to my ramblings

preparing for the inevitable silence of inner

panic

Silencing my mind, like manic

Where is the innocence?

in the dissonance?

the off chord or chance that

choice is true

that life could be good.

And then came you......

K.I.M. to K.I.S.S.

Kim should be my name.

Cause I've kept it moving for so long, and through so much that I think that will be my Moniker. KIM. Sometimes when KIM caint do what she do so well, I get to catch up. But being still is foreign. I've kept it moving the way the horses in Central Park walk and wear blinders, I have K.I.M. Kim has blocked the hurt, the pain, the defeat, the lost, the confusion sometimes even whole chuncks of memory. It seemed that I turned off the part of me that left an option for failure, quitting and or having a break down. But Kim is tense and knotted up all around the shoulders from carring the world in her back pack. Kim's shoes are wearing thin and so is her patience. Where is the middle ground between Kim and falling apart. Just staying afloat takes so much. Where is the balance in this? Kim has done so much for me, I don't want to destroy, dismantle, disrespect or disregard her. I only wonder what I might be missing with her at the wheel. How do I get back to me? I think sometimes that I am not even sure who or what that might be. ( of course otherdays its the otherway) But today, I am contemplating KIM. Keeping It Moving.

KIM

When I know I just played myself.

KIM

When I don't know where it's coming from. (money, time, dinner..etc.)

KIM

When um tired.

KIM

When um scared.

KIM

When um angry and want to bash mister's head in.

KIM

When the days fly by with service to little one's creating memories that I can't remember.

KIM

When KIM wont move.

So KIM that I don't know whats left in the carnage. Don't know what I would have, could have, should have been. Making my way back to me is a long road. But Um on it, knowing that God damn it!! I've gotta do this for me. Not cause I need more money, or more friends, or a man or to be sexy, but because I need me!! All the little pieces that I gave away, lost, discarded, all the pieces that were taken as momentos, I need them. I WANT them!! I claim them now. By virtue of the power invested in me to KIM, I pronounce myself IMPORTANT to me and on bambi like legs I begin/continue the next phase of KISS (Keep it Still & Silent).

I don't know what I will find, develope, become or discover but Its my only me.

I know I won't be doing this alone, I desire, can use, would enjoy the prayers of my loved ones. I welcome your kind words you gentle hugs and your strong hugs. You are my reflection. Keep being you in all your glory and remind me of Gods wonder and power.

I Love you!

KIM to KISS!

Surama

Keep It Moving to Keep It Still and Silent!!!

We Teach what we believe...

and learn what we do not know. We live what we know and share our lives with others.

A coupla days ago I was on my way home and decided to stop into the National shrine. For those of you who don't know about this place, its Beautiful! Its located in Washington DC and is a collection of shrines to the "Virgin Mother" from all over the world. Yeah,Yeah, I know some of you have a one sided view of the whole virgin mother thing and react strongly to the mention of this icon. However, I have my own view of this that I would like to offer you.

When I think of Mary I think of the single mindedness of a woman's dedication to providing for her loved ones, the way a mother will stop at nothing to see her child succeed, the way a wife will stand by her husband through thick and thin, the way "big momma"/Madea (Mother Dear) Holds the family together. I think about the way this energy will drive someone to reach beyond themselves to serve, save and elevate the family and community. This type of devotion and dedication is what generates change in our homes, our schools, and our communities. Not to mention that each of them looks different! They come from all over the world and the architecture is fabulous.

As I walk through the various shrine rooms and read the prayers of others, I think of all the reverent energy and thought directed toward God. I soak up this connection that is present.

Disclaimer: This is not a subscription to the catholic religion. It is respect for spirit no matter where it is found.

I sit and listen, I walk and think, I kneel and pray. I open to hear the insight of spirit as I release my stresses of the day. And this is what was said.

We teach what we believe and learn what we do not know. We live what we know and share our lives with others.

What does this mean? Depending on how you think about it, and how you emphasize it when you read, it could mean several different things. For me, it reminded me of "The Witch of Portabello" where the main character was instructed to teach and that the teaching did not require and specific/particular content but that the content would come out of the intention to teach. Teaching gives voice to our beliefs, things that have not yet become so much a part of our being that words do not come forth to describe them. Sorta like trying to put your whole life into words. You can't. You have to live it.

In our desire and determination to teach, we realize those things in us that we have not yet come to know. Those points of inconsistency in our practice, the insecurity and unsure points in the positions we've taken become apparent when we decide to teach them. Like they say, " if you want a person to learn something, ask them to teach someone else."

The things we know. We live. For instance, we know that fire burns and therefore do not jump into it, or touch it with out serious provocation or extreme need. We avoid it at all cost. This we live, and our behavior need not be explained. (at least not very often, and then only to those who are recently inhabiting bodies, otherwise its assumed to be an understanding that everyone older than 2 has acquired pretty well)

When we share our lives with young ones, they imitate our understanding of fire. They come to respect it because we do. They learn to light stoves, ovens, fire places, incense, candles, lanterns.... and all with out setting themselves or the house on fire. (again, generally speaking. I'm not referring to accidents or pyromania, or other unusual circumstances.)

All of us have heard the phrase, "don't do as I do, do as I say" and we've also heard, "children learn what they live". I introduce these two phrases to illustrate the fact that the power of our living, and teaching even, is in our own integrity. Only what we live with conviction is truly transferable to another. When we become the concept through our living ( the act of knowing something) can we be that for another and therefore expose them to the process of being (knowing something) anything.

This is why no matter what your parents tell you about sex and alcohol, most people will at least try it once. (usually more than that, and I did say most, not all). I grew up in a place that said we should not have sex or drink alcohol. They didn't tell us what we should do, just that we should wait. They didn't, which was evidenced in the very small age gaps between us and our parents. They forgot we could count! So, as soon as opportunity presented itself, we were off to the races, doing every thing we could figure to do. The abstinence advocates had no real conviction regarding the utility of waiting. I know people with different experiences of course but I'm focused on those who lacked conviction or reason for the waiting.

So what Surama! Whats the point of all this? You might be asking. The point is, each of us has something to teach! Teach it! And you'll know yourself better. The better you KNOW yourself, the more you will transmit through your life. Let your life be an example to back up your lessons, the closer they align the more powerful you will know yourself to be. And within it all remember love. For self, family and community.

Monogamy?....Monogamy....Monogamy! 102909

What is monogamy? I know some of my sista's don't really want to hear anymore from me surrounding this subject. But I have to say these things and I really do look forward to some honest dialog. We have to be the voice of reason for each other.
When I was struggling with this issue in my own relationship, (not that I'm so over it), the idea of monogamy I devised for myself is this:

Monogamy/monogamous: When you and another person agree to bear witness to the life and times of each other. When you decide to simply be another pair of eyes to observe the development of a God. The choice to say Amen (peace) to all of another's life challenges.

Love in its own right does not demand control. It has not external requirements. It is a consistent lighting of the path of peace. Love really does not get offended. Cause if that were the case, God would have discontinued its services long ago.

The fact is, most of us use monogamy as a tool of total domination.(cheer announcer voice with lasers: Total Domination!) We only accept our beloved when he or she is being good. Not remembering that what another person does aint got nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with who they are choosing to be. How YOU RESPOND has everything to do with you. And I mean, evaluate your response with the removal of excuses. Like for instances, we broke up because he was always late and that made me feel like he didn't respect my time or me. (personal one here folks) Now, I could have corrected this by moving ahead with my plans and not adjusting to accommodate this individual beyond what I found enjoyable, which would have been more powerful, since I would have insured my own self importance. But I didn't. I focused outwardly, and broke it off. And now, I am repeating this lesson with someone else.

I recognize when trying to put this into words that this is a complex issue that is recommended only for those choosing total responsibility. And I do mean TOTAL responsibility for all that they experience. I crafted my definition of monogamy out of my own drive toward total responsibility. I recognized that my capacity to love went beyond the need to control someone. Or to submit to someone else's control.

Most of all, I guess I've been tryna figure out why, Why, WHY this issue is so *&^T important to the concept of love. How many relationships would still be intact if we released the need to control and stroke our own ego's? And I know this paradigmn is not common and I grapple with it when someone I want to spend time with is too busy, or not responsive, or not interested even. So do I get mad? Do I punish them later? Or do I feel gratitude for the opportunity to see the others in my life that I can also enjoy? Learning to flow folks is key! Open up and realize that all worthy relationships will bring you deep and lasting change if you let it.

Do you equate putting it on lock with love? Are you still tryna figure out how to stop ya wo/man from cheating, or wanting to cheat, or thinking of cheating, or planning on cheating? Are you tryna foil his/her plans to get out the box? But more than that, Is it working? Are you happy when he/she submits to your will? Are you satisfied when they stop tryna be bigger/larger than life? Is it your wish that they stay home and stare at you and only do what you enjoy? Where do we draw the line?

Disclaimer: I am not advocating irresponsible and reckless behavior that can result in death, dismemberment, emotional destruction to anyone outside of your self. If sex is the issue, use a condom. Other wise, do you.

When I was a pseudo monogamist, I adhered to the classic rendition of monogamy, cause I was afraid of anything else and because I was a control freak and believed that by being in control of that I would be happier. Now, I'm learning to love. Instead of control. It has taken time to develop a sense of self that allows others to also be themselves. But damn it folks....

I really want to say, "Stay together, love each other, be patient, say amen once in a while, when you aren't sure what to do next, just try love and acceptance. (not agreement, acceptance) I know it can work. If we work it on out this life time"

How do I...102909

Put into words the extremity of change that I experience.
How can I put into words the days I spend retreating from my life trying to get a view of things from the top.
How can I put into words the reason I need all day Saturday in my bed.
How can I put into words how much I need you.
How can I put into words how powerful I know I am.
How can I put into words how afraid I am of that power.
How can I put into words how deeply I want to live my life with no regrets or doubt.
How can I put into words the level of importance God holds in my daily decisions.
How can I put into words what it means when I trust you anyway, even though you don't really want me to.
How can I put into words what it is I'm really offering you.
How can I put into words the complexity that is me.
How can I put into words the duality of my being, don't you feel it too.
How can I put into words what I see when I look at you, look at me, looking at you.
How can I put into words the words I'm thinking and the prayers I'm offering.
How can I put into words the desperation I feel when I want to leave the path I'm on.
How can I put into words the deep knowing I have about my identity.
How can I put into words the joy I feel at my clarity.
How can I put into words the sorrow at my lack of execution.
How can I put into words ....what can only be lived.
How can I put life into words. And have it still be life.

When do we stop being humans and start being old? 102209

So um in the grocery store a coupla weekends ago and I'm standing behind an older gentleman. He turns to me and asks, "How old are you?" and of course I answer truthfully, cause he's my elder and I tell him 34. He says No way! You can't be any more than 25. I laugh because I think he's being cute and he's charming. I also thought he was with the woman in front of him and that his conversation with me was a branch off of a conversation they had been having. But it wasn't. He proceeds to flirt with me through the check out line and he's quite charismatic and engaging. I enjoyed the banter. Eventually, he gets up the nerve to ask me if I would spend some time with him. I know I didn't say this yet but we established his age as 73 years 10 months. He wants me to help him celebrate his birthday! He’s turning 74.

A million thoughts.....

1. Awwww he's so cute for an old guy.
2. What do these people think of me flirting with this old ass man?
3. Is he trying to just get some booty? Some of these old guys ain't no different than the young guys.
4. What would his children think...of course he has children older than me
5. Why doesn't he hang out with some one his own age.
6. Well he is funny and seems ok.
7. Does he think that he can just buy my time?
And on, and on and on.....

But I agree to give him my number. After all, we were having a nice conversation.

When he walks me to my car he shares with me that at his age, there aren't a lot of people his age who want to be active and that he gets bored. He went on to say that he doesn't want to spend all his days laying around watching TV and he'd like some pleasant company when he goes out to the movies. We continued chatting at my car and he reluctantly asked me for a hug. Immediately assuming that I would refuse. But I didn't. There seemed to be such a need to connect with another person that I saw no harm in giving a brief embrace to this "stranger". We parted company with the plan to call and keep in touch as we approached his birthday time.

This encounter started me thinking...along with an article on Alzheimer’s and sex among the elderly (Washington City Paper)...about the question of aging and the elderly. I know that as I've gotten older, my ability to feel emotionally has not diminished. (Of course I'm not 73..but I'll let you know when I get there) So when do we stop seeing older people as people and as "old". It seems that the youth doesn't make friends with the elder because some how they are supposed to play with people their own size (or age...lol) We frown on young women that we see strolling arm and arm with an older man. We assume, usually, only 2 things, either it’s her grandfather, or her sugar daddy and that she's using him for money. BUT, aren't they still people with personality, style, conversation and caring to give. At which age does this schism start? Is it a look that the person has that says, “Stay back! um Old" I think elderly people as well as teens live in a no man's land where touching and tenderness are at a great deficient. How do we connect with each other young and old with out the confusion? I don't know the answer to this question for everyone, but I plan to keep my date with my "new" friend and get to know "him" not just his age.

One more thing....I want to challenge you. When you are on the bus, or out and about, look into the eyes of the elderly and see if they are lonely. See if life and their loved ones have relegated them to the sidelines of life’s experiences. Take the time to connect with them. Listen to their stories and laugh at their jokes (if they are funny). And talk with them just like regular people. Compliment them when they look and smell nice. Notice them. And MOST of ALL remember that one day, you will be an elder.