After getting some amazing henna done, my car was blocked in the parking lot. A man in a bathrobe asked me if I had a lighter. I said no but maybe there was a matchbook in my car. He perked right up at the possibility. The party inside Painting with a Twist raged on. As I handed him the book, I told him to keep it so he wouldn’t have to get a lighter. He graciously thanked me and vanished. Once the car that was blocking me was moved, it became rather apparent that I would not be able to easily reverse. There were too many cars for my comfort level. Guess who reappeared out of thin air and spent his party time helping me to get out of the parking lot? He still had the bathrobe…..
Monday has been a puzzle of errands. A smoothie was in order with a strong shot of ginger. Cayenne pepper was added much to my spicy delight. The total came to $8.35. I handed over a $10.00 bill. While the cashier prepared my change, I found $.35 and handed it to him. He apologized and said that his math was very poor. I told him that two dollars would be my change. Far be it from me to judge anyone on their math skills. My math skills threatened my entire academic career. There are tasks that simply go undone in my adult life because I can not stand anything remotely mathematical. However, I did wonder how is it that this equation was difficult to figure out. Has Facebook, Siri, and other techie mechanisms contributed to this? A serious curiosity….
The world is comprised of different languages and dialects. There are subcultures within larger cultures. There is a label to clearly define everything so that people can easily handle that which may otherwise elude them. None of this prepared me to hear the new word: tel. Thot had escaped me and on fleek is still somewhat of a mystery; however, tel simply made me unravel.
A friend was telling me how she was the subject of a romantic proposition. She had recently given her number to a vague individual whom engaged her in conversation for approximately two days. The beginning of the end was when the question arose, “If I get us a tel, can we have sex?”. Upon hearing the word tel, mass confusion set in. What was the meaning of tel? It was not short for telephone and people do not refer to the bank teller as much anymore. Tel-Aviv did not make any sense for the conversation. Apparently, tel is short for hotel. All of this is taking place within standard English. How is this possible? It isn’t even a decent lol or btw. It is simply tel. Would this be indicative of the length of time that the encounter would take? The word hotel is no longer acceptable. It must be shortened to tel. Needless to say, the relationship did not blossom.
Tel is now used in reference to everything. I have not heard from you. You must be tel. You met someone new, did you tel?
I am hungry. I must go tel. It is a curious wonder for us playing with this ridiculous abbreviation.
The cramps have begun. Between my oil and giant pills, the pain game is being played. I have been fighting with my damn uterus since the adolescent scandal of 13. In spite of the fact that I have a bikini wax scheduled for the morning, my menstrual cycle has decided to arrive and make my left boob feel like an alien has invaded my body. The ginger candy and hot fudge topping round out my dinner. I wonder if my monthly pain payments and period regimen (sleeping on top of towels, dark colors, all kinds of pads filling my purse, etc.), are accepted as a deposit towards pregnancy. Mother Nature needs to sit down with us and explain this. Women get upset over menopause, and I am trying to figure out why…..
As I tiptoed into the office, an associate greeted me. I sat down and leaned in with a whisper: “I do not know where my father is buried”. She was very kind and responded that it is a very common occurrence. A map was presented which soon followed an escorted ride to the exact spot where my father was last seen in his body. There is no tombstone as of yet because my mother has yet to address it. On top of the place where the casket that held him descended into the earth is where my body planted itself for some time today. The sound of wind chimes were very pleasant. Other people were in other locations in the graveyard delivering flowers to their loved ones. My father would probably prefer a copy of Sports Illustrated or The Miami Herald.
There I sat simply having a conversation with him. His contributions to my life make me wonder if I am being effective with my life purpose. Am I making a difference? What is my legacy? The wind began to push me about as my feet carried me to my car. As I drove away, mental notes were taken regarding the spot of my father’s grave in the hopes that I could return with ease. It was time for me to return to Broward County so that I could further my knowledge about ancestors; there was a class on the subject. Because I have such a direct connection now, it is a topic of great interest to me.
As the Retrograde began, a serious issue came to my attention. Instead of confronting it head on, I decided to lay low to give myself enough time to think clearly and rationalize the predicament. It was the best move ever. I reached a solution to this impasse and developed a plan of investigation in order for me to go farther. What is the moral of this shared experience? Honor your feelings. If something doesn’t feel right or just doesn’t sit properly with you, do not dismiss it as nothing. Do not ignore it or look the other way. When dealing with your well being, be diligent and always have enough time to handle it. Nothing is more important than you.
Sometimes, my interactions with people cause me to take a pause. More often than not, this is the case which is part of why I would rather stay in the comfort of my own home. It is simply easier and safer. The downside of this is that the house begins to swallow you whole. Time passes you by and life becomes mundane. This is not news.
What is news is that after a long period of questioning and trying to rationalize my purpose in life, an epiphany washed over me earlier today. Research and browsing are both something that I would like to conduct for myself once again. There are certain spiritual matters that require answers for me. This will require training, reflecting, interviews, and time. It is my hope that I can find whatever it is that seeks me. It is comforting to know that there is a foundation that I can lay. Resources will begin to reveal themselves, and a new layer of myself shall unfold. Am I not the onion that is peeled away layer by layer?
There I was sitting in the middle of my home. My mother crossed my mind as she does a lot these days in her grief. Since the passing of my father, her life has changed drastically. After almost 40years together, the love of her life has gone to the land of the ancestors. A moment of inspiration struck me. This is the letter that I texted her:
My sadness is not for my father dear mother. He walks amongst the clouds in the land of heaven. He is free from the troubles of the world and enjoys the company of his long lineage. My sadness is now for you. Your soulmate has transitioned from this life and you are left behind to mourn the tremendous loss. Know that the burden is not yours alone. Know that God will never forsake you which you have seen firsthand since God put his angels in motion. You shall rise from this process a victorious woman. Daddy shall await your ascension. Until then beloved mother, your entire life lays ahead of you. As you embrace this new chapter, I await at your feet to encourage and cheer you on. It is your time to shine. Do not fret. Mommy, God is always on your side. Cry if you must, but when the dawn comes, smile. Life is beautiful. Your faith alone shall set you free.
Change is a personal choice because it involves effort. Effort is something that not every individual on the planet has the desire or integrity to execute. It is easier to speak about an issue without the person’s knowledge instead of confronting the person. Instead of dieting an exercising, many opt to spend tons of money on plastic surgery only to be disappointed when the weight returns. A band aid is too small to cover a wound; it requires a team of surgeons.
Change is not something that you can hope for or expect. You must take part in it. How? It begins with something small. Perhaps you are unhappy with the way that you carry yourself. You lack confidence or that extra spring in your walk. You know about these things but have yet to do anything about them. What is stopping you? Perhaps it is fear.
Fear is a crippling disease that begins in our own minds and can rob us of our hopes and dreams. Obstacles may appear larger than what they truly are when in truth, help could be just around the corner. I have found that I am surrounded by people that know a lot about other avenues that can often assist me. It only takes asking the right person the right question. It takes starting a conversation with that nice gentleman inside the botanica. When you want to help yourself, people want to help you.
For the last few weeks, my life has lacked any purpose whatsoever. I have felt completely useless and withdrawn from the passion of living. My existence has been unimportant. These feelings lingered long enough for me to check the info regarding my personal life cycles. There it was in black and white. During cycle 7, feelings of aimlessness and pessimism frolic. Mind and spirit are low. Reading that made me feel so much better. A girl likes to think that she is associated with some sort of positive meaning in life and to be without one was a bad feeling.
Since reading that, not much has changed. The routine of life bores me. There are ways that I engage myself with fun. My nails are a screaming bold blue. My new handbag is a bright orange which has company with a matching water bottle. It is the little things in life that get me. After finally beginning the background work for some upcoming projects, my feelings are slowly coming together about myself.
It was in this lifetime that I discovered the beat of the drum. No one else followed this particular beat and so….I danced with it.