It's A Slow Beat

I had a cup of tea the other day. One of those companies that give you words of wisdom as you poor your cup. It said, "Your head bows to your heart". I was considering the idea that if I only ever listened to my heart, how much better would I be? What would it say? How would it direct me? Today alone, it didn't say much. I listened too. I found myself curious about what it would say that was different than the mind. Isn't it funny that the mind has lots of words, and the heart seems to chime in only when necessary. I assume they work together quite well. As I write, I communicate as if each one are all different entities. I don't know have much more to make of it except I am going to try the heart. I like the quiet it exudes and how possibly I could use the mind for its rightful purpose... communicate the message our heart decides.

Frustrated with my clarity

Sometimes I get in my head so much that I forget where I am. It's like, "Scoot, you jumped your ass into this forest, jump out." I went back and forth about a guy who has every quality a girl would ask for, bring forth, call forward, except my heart doesn't pound. I see heart pounding and the excitement of a 5th grader when a cute boy just started his first day. Apparently, we need not feel that way as adults. We are too busy finding ourselves, as if ourselves got lost after 18. I'm so sure about things. I know true love partner exists. I know God is grace, love and life. I know the company will be a movement. I know my parents were the greatest and all is well just as is.

I was reminded today that I am sure, safe, perfect right in these moments. I've decided confusion is seen as God's way of pulling you closer. IT'S CLEAR UP HERE, GUYS... COME SEE FOR YOURSELF.

This is dedicated to my dude, Chrissy The Don... thanks for always cleaning my glasses for me.

A State of Being

I watched "Love In The Time of Collera" last week. One of the lines was, "Love is a state of grace, not a means to an end." That is really all I have to say. I am actually unsure what to do with it right now. It resonates with me, however so I'm rolling and praying on it.

I love love so dearly. It shows up everyday. Today I spoke to an old lover whom I've remained friends and there was love. I called a guy who'd like to marry me, but alas I'm unsure I can give myself to... there was love. Pamela and I shared a hardy laugh over the phone... there was love. Noelani spoke about "missing her honey" if she was forced to move. To hear about love makes the heart flutter, as well.

I'm not always clear, but God ensures my peace.

Soul Crying

You know those cries that seem to start at the abdominal and plummet from your throat. It seems as if a demon is etching its way out to allow for a new peace of you to come through. I had that this week. We will leave names and specifics out of it, but wow... I felt great after. Like a good laugh, its so pure. I'm working the steps, but forget that it is about the journey. Pam used to, well still says, "you are a restless soul, little one!". I guess I am. I want to dye my bang blond for the Spring. I'd like to make love until I can't move my legs and that thrusting feeling down below becomes too great to bare. I see travels and phenomenal dresses, jeans that fit me like a glove and shoes that don't hurt, but create a leg extension that would make Brigitte Bardot swoon. I yearn for chocolate ice cream and can't get enough of my spring rolls. I run because the air feels like heaven. But go back and forth because after all you gotta love a thick girl body.

I love life when you are present. I get chills when I'm centered and laugh at myself when I'm a complete bitch. It's all OK, though. I forgave myself this week. For the child who craved the pleasing of people and decisions that were better left in that moment rather than the 26 year old who wouldn't let HIM in. It's all right in front of you isn't it?

I'm flying

Love is a beautiful word. I hear it or see it and I flutter. I say, "Thank you, God", because it shows up daily. I felt it last night.

He came with a nice lady. The one that needed to move away. Who I prayed would find his wings. She seems lovely. Who knows if she will be his girl, his woman? I am unsure that it matters. My ego showed up on their date. I let it pass, as I called it forward, after all. I'm so in with love him and always will, but do I like him, do I really care, when I know it's just not right. At the end of the day, it is time to stop reading the last page to this chapter. I ache though. He left. He moved on. I prayed and God said, "Well, here you go, Eb. Here are your wings. This is the umpteenth time I'm giving them to you, stop walking when you know now how to fly."

At the beginning

"If he puts his hands on you, Ebonni, you ensure he eats your dust." My mother would say that as a child. It was never even something I talked about. I didn't know anyone who had been in an abusive relationship. My mom was never one to be messed with and my dad aloud for a voice to be heard. He'd let me push the envelope with him. As he justified it, you won't ever let a man cross you if I let you test me. It was never a question. The men in my life have been amazing, kind, loving, true, and real, not because I am different from the next woman, but because that is the universe I created within myself.

We are but a producer in the play called our life. I guess I just wonder how we manage to get on the stage or think we are the director. My ego gets fired up when I hear people discuss one dimensional conversations about everything under the sun. These topics become laconic, silly, trite, and understated even at the expense of us all needing to put in our "two cents".

I wish that we can get to a blank canvas. My hope is to see us really get out of the way of a higher power, smile at our egos, and see what life really brings.

I say all of this to say, how are we having yet another conversation about domestic violence? Why are we not getting to the route of it? When we manage to do so, on few occasions, we see the other person as "bad" and the accused as the "victim".

What must he have seen in his life? What insane insecurities must wreck him? How he must not realize that he is in fact an adult and can not use his ego as a way to move through his existence? The pain of one that only sees his own flesh and not the spirit of a living God. I don't want to play the "God" card, but wow are we not given experiences to really have a conversation about relationships and life and yet we seem to dumb it down to something trite and typical.

What does it feel like to be alone? What kind of pressure am I under? Will I ever know love? Am I good enough to be with him? At my core, do I see God? Do I know God? Do I see myself as a sum of my experiences as oppose to whole at the beginning and just on a fun ride?

I begin this conversation, because I wish to see us discuss a broader picture of relationships, of life, of a will to love fully, to enjoy what is at our feet.

To see images or hear stories of abuse breaks at your core. I understand it. Pam used to say, "you are always for the non-victim". I don't think we should use that word. No one is a victim. Both parties are too deep in their own egos, focused on the past, and fear of the future to realize that what truly matters in life they possess. I won't be the next person to be angry with the man or the woman that feels it necessary to blame the abuser. It is a hard road to be on and I know pointing fingers is easy, but my heart brakes not only for her, but for him.

Lets discuss why we take the pains of our childhood to adult. Lets be the group that speaks on true love. How would it feel to weep for the man that hit along with the one he put his hands on. I feel as if it is time to stop with laconic conversations and taking sides and labeling a thing bad or good and see how we can all tap into whatever our truest self is. We must be the change. We have to use the tools to see the glass as half full.

What can we do today to ensure we welcome our destined relationships with open arms?

Too Easy

So your girl was canned, laid off, paid the piper, sliced, pink slipped... It was last Friday and quite frankly I am on top of the world. There was that initial feeling of, "wow, no job" and "wow, no money" and "wow, lots of bills", but I have not felt so free and at peace.

I don't have thoughts. There are no astute ideas to "get me through this tough time". I recognize who God is. I sense that it all is shaping up nicely.

I have 'Belles' to keep me active and Barack just earned his vote from me as my first check should come just in time to help me breathe. I'm OK. I'm secure. Everything I need will be.

I am going out tonight with friends. I will work on the 'ol resume. I may teach a kid or two and I'll enjoy my holiday. The world did not end and my soul feels at home.