Where Do The Tired Find Rest

I have contemplated suicide in my lifetime. The thought briefly crossed my mind as early as this morning. Sometimes I wonder what it’s all for, what am I here for. I know the answers and yet they elude me. I used to live for my children. They kept me going and at the same time caring for them was a burden because I was doing it alone. I have an amazing support system, but sometimes there is only so much a support system can do for you. I do the soul work, dig deeply inside myself to face my darkness to acknowledge and work through them to get to more light, but if I am being totally honest, I’m tired. It seems there is no end in sight, no sigh of relief from the pressure, no light at the end of the tunnel. My love relationships are just as weighty. I’ve noticed the pattern of attracting men and then having them leave after professing how much they love me and how amazing, nurturing, calming, and perfect for them I am, but somehow can’t seem to break the cycle. I love hard, passionately, and wholly. A part of me wonders if romantic love eludes me because I keep trying to give away love I should be bestowing upon myself. I don’t want to die old and alone. I want love, pure love, heavy love, deep love, transformative love. I used to think people who committed suicide were weak, but from where I currently sit, I think many times they were just tired. The kind of tired not even money can change. The kind of tired no one who loves you can change. The kind of tired only you can relieve you of.  

Purple Haze

Purple haze, all in my brain. Lately things they don't seem the same, actin' funny, but I don't know why. Excuse me while I kiss the sky. – Jimi Hendrix

If I had to sum up how I feel right now, the above lyrics would be it. Lately I’ve been meditating more, drinking more water, treating my skincare like a ritual, going in to find answers and the truth, and reaching out in love sans toxic ego and pride. I’m at peace and learning to tame my thoughts, for they certainly create the reality I live in. Though I feel more peaceful I also feel more alive. Embracing my personal truth has been and still is a journey. Uncovering my sense of worth has also been a journey. For such a long time I felt stuck and stagnant in life. Inside I felt and wanted to live one way, but outwardly I was living the opposite, save for moments I said fuck it all and lived out loud, but then I went to the total opposite extreme. I have always lived in extremes, very black and white, all or nothing. I’m learning to embrace and appreciate that grey sweet spot in the middle, trying to gently control the pendulum swing and grasp a deeper understanding of the Law of Correspondence (as above so below) while dissecting the notion of everything being mental, The All is mind.

Though it isn’t popular and contradicts the way I was raised, I’m openly embracing the things my spirit naturally gravitates to: yoga, sacred texts, crystals, light work, meditation, and astrology. I believe there’s truth in everything, and all truth is but half true. Anyway, back to self-worth. I recently had a conversation with God because I wasn’t understanding why I kept meeting men I could never solidify anything with along with trying to find the spiritual reason for my recent weight gain. Long story shortened, it all boiled down to the way I viewed myself and lack of trust in God/The Universe and flow of life. I subconsciously felt worthless if I didn’t have money or couldn’t be of use or service. That’s how I express my love, by doing. That was a bit of a hard pill to swallow because that meant all my life I only felt I was worthy of love if I had money and could do things for others, not simply for just being me. I had to sit with that truth, embrace it, acknowledge it as truth, and actively change the way I viewed myself. That same week I did a guided Kundalini Awakening meditation and spent a little time with a man I’ve never officially dated, but adore nonetheless. To say I felt empowered is an understatement.

I can be a bit spoiled, and I want what I want when I want it. I was maybe three miles from his home when I texted, “Are you home?” He replied saying he was, then I asked, “Do you want company? Say yes.” He simply replied, “Sure.” He was where I used to go to escape the world. Something about being with him made my breath easy and my soul relax. When I got there, he greeted me with a hug and offered to make me a drink. He’s always been very accommodating to me. We talked literally for hours about life, God, family karma, mother wounds, parenting, and things I’m certain I have forgotten about already. Sometimes he just stares at me, and unlike when other people stare at me, his gaze doesn’t make me feel uneasy or annoyed. I just feel adored, but I asked him why he stares at me, and his reply was simple, “I always look at you like a Queen, like Cleopatra or another ancient Queen. You always look like you’re about to get up and put your crown on. You’re just different. You bring me a sense of calm and peace nobody else can.” I asked if that scared him, and he said yes because it can be a bit unnerving to be with someone you feel sees right through you. At that point it all made sense to me, and my purpose for being here became clearer to me. He doesn’t know it, but he did something for me and magnified something deep and beautiful in my soul. I accept that I am peace. I am an anchor for the soul, releaser of the reflex actions that lead to innate freedoms to be, lover of wild hearts, free spirits, sensual men, and wild women. I am love. I am the truth.I believe we are all mirrors one to another, and the very things he sees in me I also see in him.

Harnessing Sexuality

I go through periods of metaphoric deaths, usually coupled with celibacy, isolation, and intense introspection. When the phases are complete I am reborn and want nothing more than multiple outlets for my boisterous passion and impetuous energy. This is usually the place new lovers are inserted into my life. My sex drive is strong and consistent during my rebirths and smoldering during the deaths. I love the merging and intimacy of sex, the passion, animalism, tenderness, and the healing. My last “death” awakened and catapulted me so far past my last spiritual level that I feel like a new, lighter, and freer woman living authenticity in my soul, in my skin. I know there are more levels to reach, but the one I’m on now feels so good physically and mentally.

Sex and catastrophe have always been life changing and regenerative for me. Repeated Phoenix risings of sorts. I suppose this is due to my abundant Plutonian energy. Pluto is my most dominate planet, and of course it’s marked by death, rebirth, secrets, and sexuality. I’m intensely private, especially about my family, spirituality, and love life, so I usually hold back in my writing, but I feel the need to be transparent right now. 

I grew up in church, but religion never felt comfortable to me. I couldn’t relax into it even when I was going through the motions of it. I’ve always had this need to know why sex was so taboo and to be feared. If I’m being honest, I can’t say I blame my ex-husband for cheating on me. I did everything I was taught to do. I was taught how to be a WIFE, how to: cook, clean, stay pretty, keep the house tidy, keep the kids clean, be everything my husband needed (not according to his own admission but by older women before me), and to give my husband access to my body whenever he wanted because it was no longer my body. It became HIS body. Typing that made me want to puke and clench my legs tightly together. What a disgusting and disempowering way to live, but that is a whole ‘nother topic, so I digress. Sex was a chore for me when I was married. I was taught to save myself for marriage then instantly become a porno star once I said, “I do.” It was hard to enjoy sex after I had been taught it defiles and can send me to Hell. Even though I had premarital sex with him I didn’t enjoy it because I felt terrible and as though God was disappointed in me. It’s no wonder I didn’t have an orgasm until I was 25. Anyway, it wasn’t until my divorce fell apart and I had to rebuild my entire life from ground zero did I begin to understand the power of owning my body, my sex, and my sexuality.

Initially I was looking for an escape from my pain, and wine wasn’t strong enough to soothe the sting of my pain and bruised confidence. In walked a man who was supposed to be off limits to me, but the moment I laid eyes on him I instinctively knew we would be together and have a damn good time. I didn’t make any moves or do anything outlandish to garner his attention. I knew he felt my energy. To make a long story short, for the first time in my life I had amazing mind-blowing sex and orgasms so intense they had me shook! Both literally and figuratively.

By the time we crossed paths I was a bit apathetic and had grown tired of fear-based religion. I needed something different. I needed a truth that resonated with me, one I didn’t have to force myself to accept. I was also in a period of uncovering more of my own personal truth and adjusting my morals, beliefs, and life to accommodate those truths. I became addicted to sex with him because those were some of the only moments I allowed myself to be totally free, and that freedom opened doors for me outside of sex. Once my need of him expired and I had gleaned all I could from him I let him go and closed the door on our sexual relationship. I now understand it wasn’t necessarily sex with him that opened the door to my freedom. It was my acknowledgement and acceptance of my own sexual creative force that had empowered me. I have and am still learning how to harness, embrace, and wisely utilize that power. Sexual energy is purely creative energy and the seeds of creativity and manifestation. When I feel that energy stirring now I meditate and figure out just what I need to create and manifest at that moment. The yoni is a sacred space and should be treated as such. It’s powerful. Once the traumas and wounds surrounding issues with our sexuality are confronted and healed we become unstoppable portals of healing, power, creativity, and manifestation. I’m not as open to sharing my body with lovers these days because I now know the power I have sexually and all I went through to get to this place spiritually, but if we are vibing on the same waves and the wants and attraction are mutual I don’t deny myself that pleasure and opportunity to be expanded. Own your sexuality and change your life.

Most of the men in my life have tried to own me in one way or another. I find the notion laughable because I can’t be owned. That went out the door with my marriage. I’ve been mostly emotionally unavailable all my life, so it’s only natural I attracted those kinds of people to myself. Once I became aware of it and started healing that part of myself I started to attract people who were emotionally available to me but not physically so. Again, I had to reflect and realize that though I had opened myself emotionally I wasn’t quite ready to physically be available to anyone, so here I am now, practicing the art of fluidity, learning to just be and go with whatever feels right to ME regardless of how culturally or socially right or wrong it is. So, I view myself as a free agent of sorts. I refuse to be owned, and by the same measure I’m not trying to own another. It took me a long time to get to this place. I had to learn to how to live without the things and people I thought would make me happy, without a man I loved incredibly deeply, and longed for every single day of my life. His absence coupled with not being able to get the things I really wanted taught me to live without attachments, and to not tie my happiness into another person or material things. I had to learn to be whole on my own and not think of myself as a half whose mate would make her complete or whose possessions gave her value.

I’m a far cry from perfect, but every day I am redefining what perfection is to ME, from the way I dress and style my hair to the dynamics of my relationships. There is no right or wrong. It’s all perception. With this mindset comes a lack of desire to judge. I honestly don’t care how other people choose to live as long as it isn’t hurting another. We all have stories to tell, but most of us judge the books’ covers and omit the pages that make them books. My word for 2018 is fluidity.   

January 21, 2018

I laid across my bed this afternoon quietly reminiscing about lovers past and smiling at the sweet memories. They each opened worlds in me I either denied or didn’t know existed. I’m currently still not dating and have no desire for exclusivity with anyone at the moment. I don’t want to belong to anyone. I will never belong to another. I am my own person. By the same measure, no other will ever belong to me. It took me a while to learn and understand that. My possessiveness and jealousy wouldn’t allow it before, but life has a way of driving its points home.

My mother asked me, “Are you afraid of being in a relationship because you think you’ll have to change the way you dress and what you post on social media? What does posting the way you do do for you? What do you get out of that?” Her questions didn’t upset me at all. My mother always asks to gain a better understanding. She’s a Virgo as well, so I get it. I wouldn’t say I fear being in a relationship because I would have to change anything, because I wouldn’t change anything about myself unless I wanted to. I do, however, refuse to even entertain a man I felt would try to change me. If that means being alone then so be it. I refuse to be in a relationship with someone who tries to dictate to me what I can and cannot wear, who I can and cannot associate with, where I can and cannot go, what I can and cannot write about, or anything else. I honestly post for ME. I love my body, my hair, my sexiness, my sensuality, my free spiritedness, my mind, my flaws, and everything else about me. I wear what I wear, do what I do, and paint my toenails the color I like because I genuinely just like me and what I like. If anyone else happens to like it also that just makes it a bit sweeter. I don’t thirst trap. I post what’s appealing to me and what rings true for ME. I’m not out here looking to get chose or for a husband. What’s meant to be will be whether or not I’m out here dressed like a ho or covered head to toe, which I never will be, by the way. I absolutely love the female form, and find nothing wrong with its nakedness. Perverted thinking and religion have made a natural thing of beauty out to be something defiled and unholy.

I don’t know where the whole mindset of telling women they have to look, act, and dress certain ways in order to be wives as if being a wife is the be all end all of life originated, but fuck that. I’ve been married, and quite frankly I prefer being single. I don’t shun marriage at all, and if I ever do it again I would prefer it be with a man I consider my best friend, someone I can be totally naked, open, and vulnerable with, and someone who sees my freeness as something to be embraced and not shunned. I’m appreciative of people who are mature enough to accept all of me and let me be great. 

Anxiety: Beggar of Simplicity

A few days ago I was struggling with anxiety. I couldn’t understand where it was coming from and was bothered by the fact it was disrupting my already hard to come by sleep at night. The only other time I recall taking notice of anxiety was back in late 2014-early 2015 right before I was laid off my job. Back then I didn’t question what was making me anxious and panicky; I just knew I was tired of my job. On top of being sexually harassed every single day I reported to work, I felt trapped, stuck, and stagnant and as if I was wasting my life away. It never dawned on me to dig inside in an effort to find the source. Unlearned lessons are lesson repeated, right? Back to present day. Over the last two years I have been going through an entire metamorphosis of sorts: mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically, financially, etc. No part of my life has remained untouched by changes.

The other night I decided I was going to have to work things out and demand answers from God, my higher self, spirit, pray, meditate with my crystals, burn some lavender and ylang ylang, and anything else I needed to do to be okay and find answers to this anxiety thing because I didn’t like the way I was feeling. Eventually I calmed myself down and quietly asked, “What is causing this anxiety?” The answer softly replied to me was, “Money and love.” I knew exactly what that meant. Then I asked myself, “What are your heart’s truest desires?” The things that were causing the anxiety were nowhere in the answer to that. I was stressing over things that in the end didn’t even matter to the essence of who I am, things that could easily be resolved if I stopped worrying about them and followed the promptings of my heart and soul, if I started working in my purpose. When I asked what my heart’s desires were, the answer was: A home, candle making, creating bath and body products, yoga, and traveling the world helping and empowering women and girls. My heart’s desires are simple, pure. That put me at ease. The anxiety was caused by what I thought I should have but feared I would never have or have enough of. I have now started making myself enjoy and live in the moments I currently reside in and take everything one day at a time while working to provide my heart with what it wants: simplicity, beauty, and peace. The money will come, and the love was always there in many different forms. I am complete. I came here complete. Now it’s a matter of remembering who and what I was when my soul decided it was time to occupy earth and utilize the inherent power of my soul.  

When The Women Gather

I thoroughly enjoy spending time with the matriarchs of our family and just wise older women in general. My mother taught me how to be a lady along with so many other things, and I love her so much for that. I promise I could write an entire book about my mother and her ways. Truly I am the wisdom of my mother. I have an aunt, my mom’s older sister, who I will forever cherish. She was one of the only aunties I have who spent one on one time with me. She always had a dresser full of expensive perfumes that she used to let me try whenever I went over, and she bought me my first bottle of “grown up” perfume. Her style was so classy, chic, and understated. I loved watching my mother fix my auntie’s hair, and the style was always the same: a jet black mid-back length weave with a side part. Simple, classic, understated. I inherited a refined sense of style and love of beautiful healthy hair from her and my mother. I was allowed to sit in the living room and watch my mother transform her sister’s hair as I listened to them talk about life. I don’t recall any gossip about anyone, and that’s what set them apart from many other women to me. I was allowed to stay around when she visited because they weren’t talking “grown folks” business which was usually code for sex and gossip about other family members. Something magical happens when the women gather. The women in my family have a way of healing one another simply through doing women things like hair, exchanging makeup tips, complimenting how fine the other is, exaggerating about how naughty our children are, and just simply lying under each other. We learn so much from each other about life in general by simply being free to be who we are when we are together. Our gatherings are love in motion. It’s a beautiful thing to experience and be a part of.

Ramblings

I don’t know where this post is going, but I’m writing it anyway. I don’t feel the need to organize my thoughts or try to make this post linguistically ornate. It just is. That’s where my mindset is at the moment. Just is. Not good. Not bad. Not someplace in the middle. Just is.

Lately I have been feeling the need to be more transparent. Keeping it bottled up has served me no good. As I write this I am also reflecting on where the past two years have taken me. For starters I lost a really good paying job and haven’t recovered financially at all. I am currently awaiting an approval from a car dealership. I have to downgrade because I can no longer afford the car I currently drive, which is four months behind, by the way. I haven’t bought Christmas or birthday gifts in two years, and I am at the very last of the bottle of my most absolute favorite perfume. I went through a huge bout of depression because I felt my life had fallen, and I was thrown out of my comfort zone. That awakened me to just how much my ego was tied to everything I did from what I wore, drove, went, drank, etc. I had lost sight of what life was all about.

This car situation has made me question just who was I trying to impress with my life. I walked around like I had my shit together because I cleaned up nicely but was always one paycheck away from living under a damn bridge. The audacity, right?! I am literally so embarrassed of myself. I had wasted ten years of my life trying to attain stuff, thinking that proved I had made it in life, made it to where, exactly I don’t know. After the shock of having everything stripped away from me I had to come face to face with myself, and that wasn’t pretty. I didn’t even know who I was. I thought I knew, but apparently I had just been putting on. I was a mean woman who didn’t care much about the feelings of others. I couldn’t understand why other people couldn’t just go out and get a job like everyone else to make ends meet. Now, even I don’t want to just work a job. I don’t enjoy working for other people. I used to push my friends to create and do what they were naturally good at, but I didn’t even believe in myself to pursue my own creative talents and hone my crafts. I used to laugh hysterically at memes that made fun of women who were not well endowed, had hair struggles, whose makeup was deemed hideous, and a plethora of other things. I no longer find those things funny. Everything isn’t for everyone, and not everyone is supposed to walk around looking the way I think they should look. Who the hell am I to tell others how they should look and dress anyway?! Talk about having had a God complex. Good lord.

These days the woman I tried to keep suppressed has surfaced, and I have no intentions of making her go back into hiding. I am a free-love loving woman who desires neither to lead nor follow. I just want to be happy, live, and allow others that same right however they choose to live. I don’t feel the need to judge anybody for the ways they live: gay, straight, street walker, drug dealer, stay at home mother, blue collar, white collar, sexual, prude, free spirited, uptight. What you eat don’t make me shit, and who you f*ck doesn’t make me cum. Do ya thing, just make sure you are being true to yourself and occupying your time and resources with the things that really matter in life.

Peace, love, and light

-Q

Parable of the PB&J Sandwich

Last night I was awakened out of my sleep by extreme hunger. That’s been a frequent occurrence of late. I usually drink from a bottle of water kept on my desk and go back to sleep. Last night the hunger was relentless. It would not allow me to simply drink water and doze back off.

That had only happened one other time in my life. I was pregnant with my first son and famished, so I waddled to the kitchen and ate the first thing I saw, which happened to be a slice of bread. I laughed as I told my mother about my pregnancy hunger tale, but she looked incredibly sympathetically at me and said, “Poor baby, but we always have food in the house. You might have had to cook it, but there is food.” I explained to her I was so hungry I didn’t care what I ate. I just needed to sate that hunger immediately.

Last night I debated on whether or not to lie there awake and hungry or to stop being lazy and get myself food. The spirit of God gently whispered, “There is always food in the house. You simply have to heat it up or spread something onto a slice of bread. You don’t even have to cook.” I grudgingly got out of bed to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That took all of one minute. How crazy is it to grudgingly do something simple that will benefit YOU? I frowned a little because I realized there was no lemonade, so I would have to drink water. As I was leaving the kitchen I turned to see a full bottle of ginger ale. I absolutely LOVE ginger ale and had totally forgotten about it. I did a little happy dance as I poured myself a small glass of it to accompany my sandwich. Once I reached my bedroom I thought how perfectly chips would have complemented my sandwich and ginger ale. I trotted back down the stairs to grab a small serving to complete my meal. Once my hunger had been staved off I breathed deeply and lied back against my headboard, nicely satisfied and comforted. There was that gentle voice again, “Now, doesn’t it feel much better to wander off to sleep with a sated full belly?” Indeed it felt amazing. I did, however, think to myself that that bottle of water would have been enough to get me through the night.

I thought our conversation was over, but no. There that voice was again, “Just as that bottle of water would have only staved off your hunger for a few hours, so is my obligation to provide your basic needs. The water would have been enough, but it would not have filled your belly and left you aptly satisfied. Your laziness almost made you lie in misery when there was plenty to eat. All that was required was for you to either heat something up or spread something across a slice of bread. The work on your part was minimal in order to be fully satisfied. As are my promises to you, it only takes a small effort on your part to walk in fullness. Just as you thought you would have nothing to drink but water there was a full bottle of your favorite drink to partake of. Just as you were satisfied with that, you thought about how nicely chips would have added to what you already have. The sandwich is representative of my promises to you, the ginger ale my promises I’ve made to you that you have forgotten about, and just when you have enough to be well off I add blessings that compliment and complement my promises to you.”

What’s your bottle of water? Your job? Government assistance? Staying in a bad relationship because it provides your basic needs? Don’t do as I have and allow your laziness to stop you from getting all that is promised for you. Faith without works…   

Fear of Safe

I believe we are what we are attracted to even if subconsciously. We attract the things and people that and who vibrate to the frequencies we emit into the atmosphere. This leads me to believe perhaps I am afraid of safe. Let me explain.

I have always, since I started dating, been attracted to low key unassuming men whose quiet confidence make my yoni swoon. Their auras spill their secrets of being naughty, wild at heart, and free spirited in spite of their laidback demeanors. I always know I’ll have a good time with men like this. I never seek them out, though. They all just happen to find me in a corner somewhere minding my own business doing my own thing. I suppose my aura spills my secrets as well. Like attracts like. Therein lies my problem.

These men are so free they wreak havoc on me emotionally because they can’t be tied down for too long. It’s like they start suffocating, and freedom is literally life to them. They lack consistency. When we’re together we’re great. I’m talking two stars in the night sky burning each other with this intense certain je ne sais quoi that attracts and repels at the same time. We are other people’s ‘relationship goals’ when we’re out together, and it’s all totally organic, natural, and fluid, never forced or faked. It’s like dating male versions of myself. The ‘flaws’ I hate in myself I hate even more intensely in them, namely being unpredictable and the battle between being intense and all-consuming yet having a need to keep things casual due to commitment phobia.

The things I love about them mirror the things I love about myself, but these are also the very traits that keep me emotionally off kilter when it comes to them. They’re private and like steel trap doors when it comes to the depths of who they truly are. They let me in just a bit, and when I get too close to the heart they shut me out. Being a Venus in Scorpio woman, that irks my entire soul! I have a need to know everything there is to know about my lovers, but I also have a need to not reveal all my own secrets and things that make me tick.

I used to think I wanted a traditional life, something safe: a house, high paying office job, and a husband who catered to my every request. I could very well have that life because there are men who offer that, but I know in my heart of hearts I would be bored out of my mind. Knowing I and these men share traits has caused me to examine myself and analyze why I am the way I am.

I haven’t come up with all the answers yet, but I think perhaps because we are all mere embodiments of the universe at large, perhaps ‘safe’ is just an illusion, and the free spirits are out to denounce that illusion and live freely. Then again, maybe we free spirits are afraid of safe because we think it would require us to rein it all in and succumb to normalcy and boredom. Is emotional safety even a thing? I mean, is it possible to truly safeguard one’s emotions? I don’t think so. I think we attract the experiences and people we need in order to grow. Don’t mind me, though. I’m just thinking out loud trying to make sense of all the clutter in my head. 

Love Is

I once viewed marriage and relationships as the merging of two souls. An excerpt from a piece I wrote in my book states, “we are leisurely and fluently interfusing into one impressionistic abstract work of art.” I thought that line was incredibly beautiful at the time, and I still do, but at the time I wrote it I was a young twenty something year old enamored with what I thought love was while simultaneously licking the wounds of my divorce and wearing rose tinted lenses.

I thought when you found love everything would fall into place and you would become the axis on which your mate’s world turned.  I don’t know if I really thought that or if that’s just what I wanted. I wanted desperately to love and be in love. I saw it as the answer to all my problems. After all, what in the world compares to being in love and having your mate love you in return?

Well, as it turns out many things can easily compare to such. I decided to stop searching for love and just focus on becoming a better person. I realized though I didn’t have a mate I was surrounded by people who loved me, and love is love no matter who it comes from. That aside, on my journey to becoming a better person I let go of what I thought perfect love looked like. In fact, I even dropped the notion of ever being remarried altogether and became content with being single for the rest of my life.      

Not long after I became content with not allowing my marital status to have any bearing on my happiness I met an amazing man who actually approached and courted me. He stated his intentions from the jump, and so far has been following through. Being with him made me realize I no longer hold the same views on what I thought love and relationships should be.

I now think love and relationships are two individuals willing to share their living spaces and the majority of their lives together though not necessarily being the axes on which each other’s worlds revolve. Even though I am currently in a relationship I still belong to myself. Love was once synonymous with ownership for me. That no longer rings true for me. People don’t belong to other people. I am willing to compromise and make concessions, but I will not change who and what I am to be what I think he wants in a mate. I just hope we remain compatible through all the inevitable stages of evolution as we become who and what we are to become. That process is never ending.

    

Yes, love is incredibly beautiful, but love is also making someone face their shit and deal with it. Love is encouraging another to grow. Love is telling the truth even when it hurts. Love is toughing it out even in times you aren’t particularly fond of each other. Love is tasting your words before you spew them. Love is being mature enough to handle your emotions. Love is when their smile makes everything in your world okay. Love is a hug that doubles as a haven. Love is freedom to be. Love is two souls that remain two souls but color inside each other’s lines from time to time.  

Power in Submission

I am a control freak. I often feel things won’t get done properly or at all if I don’t do them myself. As I journey inwardly in search of truths and answers I am discovering there is power in submission.

Submission simply means to yield or to stop trying to fight or resist something; to agree to do or accept something that you have been resisting or opposing. My only resolution/word for the year 2015 was organic. I promised myself I would allow things to naturally unfold in my life, take it all in, and go with the flow to see what would happen. This has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding years of my life to date. I am yielded to the unknown and having to learn to trust God and the infinite wisdom and perfect timing of the Universe in all facets concerning: my children, finances, spiritual growth and evolution, my heart, emotions, everything. This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

Being yielded to the unknown is causing me to make various changes in the way I think, view people and situations, and is causing me to question my deepest motives for everything I do. To find these answers I am forced to go deeper into myself. It has been disheartening yet freeing to realize I have been lying to myself about why I do certain things. What a humbling experience.

I got to this place via frustration with the stagnant pace of my life. I got mad at God and started asking why about so many things. I was in search of the truth, honest truth, not what I had been taught to believe was true or what I told myself was truth to get past emotionally tough times. I needed to know why I wasn’t progressing in life as I should. What was the blockage?

The blockage was me and my need to control everything. I am terribly afraid of poverty and not ever settling down with the man that allows me to totally be all of me. The fear of being lovelorn causes me to hold on so tightly to my heart that I choke the life out of anything good that could possibly grow there. Fear of poverty causes me to stress myself out trying to ensure my children and I never go without, and that in turn is one of the quickest ways to end up in poverty. The truth, my truth, is bitter but healing. In submitting to truth, love, God, the unknown, and the Universe I am starting to realize and believe I have the power to determine the outcome of my destiny.

Mommy Chronicles: Allergies, Asthma, &...MILK?!

I’ve had the displeasure of nervously sitting in the waiting areas of hospitals twice as my youngest son underwent surgery to have tubes inserted into his ears due to frequent ear infections. Paying thousands of dollars per year for visits to allergists was no fun, either, especially when nothing seemed to work long term. Giving another person a saline rinse is pretty much one of the grossest things ever, but I received so much joy as globs and globs of snot were dispelled from my baby’s nose after the rinses. The things that bring mothers joy.

My youngest son loves milk and orange juice. When he was around three he started having recurring ear infections, really horrible colds seemingly year round, hearing loss, and constant wheezing in his chest. His pediatrician suspected that he wasn’t suffering from colds, rather he had severe allergies and asthma, so she referred us to an allergist.

The allergist conducted breathing and allergy tests and came to the conclusion that he did in fact suffer from allergies and asthma. He put my son on steroids that seemed to help, but he gained so much weight. He went from a super skinny kid that was considered normal healthy weight but tall for his age to being considered clinically obese within a week of being on the meds prescribed by the allergist.

All of this led to about four years of constant back and forth appointments between the pediatrician, ear nose and throat specialists, and the allergist. This definitely took its toll on me emotionally and financially. His flare-ups would always occur at the worst times for me. Sometimes it got so bad I would literally sit in my car, cry, and yell at God for this being so difficult. I was a single mother, and his expenses were draining my finances. I made up in my mind that I was no longer taking him to all these specialists that couldn’t cure him.

I did a ton of research on allergies and how they were directly linked to asthma. The trigger for all his complications seemed to stem from his love of cow milk! I wouldn’t let him drink milk for periods at a time and noticed he had no asthma flare-ups and little to no congestion the led to ear infections which led back to the asthma. I put him on almond milk because I read even soy milk can be a bit unhealthy. He hated almond milk and begged me to buy cow milk. When I did all the symptoms came rushing back: congestion, allergies, and asthma.

I no longer buy cow milk, and he’s adjusted to that. More orange juice suffices for him. Every now and again he will ask for regular milk, but I simply refuse. I have grown quite accustomed to not fretting before bed hoping he doesn’t wake up super congested all because I forgot to give him a saline rinse, allergy tab, and asthma treatment before he fell asleep.

Finding the culprit of his ailments has spurred me to invest more time researching a more holistic approach to life overall. I now make one hundred percent beeswax candles to purify the air in our home, and he and I are working together to help him lose the weight he gained from years of steroid use. What was once considered a huge burden spawned into a life overhaul. We are taking baby steps, but we’ll get there.

Do you have any problems with cow milk?

Let It Go

There can be such liberty in letting go, both voluntarily as well as involuntarily. Many times we cling very tightly to the things we are familiar with for fear of the unknown and of being lost. I am discovering that there can be much joy, pleasure, truth, and healing on the other side of release. I have been going through my own process of releasing and letting go.

If you have followed my blog from the Truth Spewing Fire of my Heart days, then you know my relationship with my ex-husband is pretty much nonexistent. He got re-married before we got the chance to resolve the  issues from the marriage and divorce. We got that chance earlier this year after being forced to come together to discuss some issues our eldest son was going through. I was able to tell my ex-husband exactly how I felt about him, his parenting (or lack thereof), his new wife, and how he left me out there alone to care for our sons. He was, in turn, able to tell me exactly how he felt about me as well. A few weeks later his wife reached out to me via social media, and I was able to tell her exactly how I felt about her. For years I never rocked the boat and never fully voiced my true sentiments about them to them because my goal was to keep the peace for the sakes of my sons. Do you want to know how it felt to finally be able to get that off my chest? It felt amazing. I realized I had been harboring hurt, resentment, and anger for almost seven years behind people that genuinely weren’t worth it, especially when I got a glimpse into their lives and realized without an ounce of doubt that I indeed made the wisest decision when I filed for divorce. No one is worth harboring negative thoughts and emotions over. I wish them well.

I have worked in Oil and Gas for as long as I can remember with no real issues, but the closer I got to my eighth year work anniversary the more angst I began to feel. I hated going to work because the work I was doing seemed pointless to me, and hardly a day went by I didn’t get sexually harassed from colleagues and managers alike. I would look out the window of my office and long for the day I could work for myself and enjoy the nice sunny days outside at the park or take long lunches with my favorite people. I felt like a caged bird that was dying, doing the exact same thing every single day with very little variation. I wanted to quit every morning, but I didn’t want to quit without having something else lined up. There were rumors of a layoff swirling, and I desperately wanted to be one of the chosen ones to be laid off. My wish was granted. Although I didn’t have a backup plan in motion I haven’t missed a beat. My afternoons have been filled with basking in the sunshine and having too many long lunches. I have ten extra pounds that can attest to that. During my downtime I have been pondering on what it is I truly want out of life and what I hope to accomplish. My recent experience of being without traditional work along with a conversation with one of the most beautiful men I know are pushing me to finally pursue the path of happiness over that of money. I always chose the path of money out of my fear of poverty and lack. So far I have lacked absolutely nothing.

For years I have been curious about yoga, but I was always warned against it by the Christian community. I recently decided to give it a go anyway. I’m cool with the God I serve. Initially I liked it because it was extremely relaxing and aided in my goals for more flexibility, but the more I took it the more in love with it I became. One morning near the end of class the instructor asked if we wanted to end with hip or shoulder openers. No one answered, so she went with hip openers. One asana in particular changed my entire morning and emotional life, the pigeon pose. I felt a barrage of sensations as I released the tension in my buttocks and relaxed my breathing to go deeper into the stretch. I distinctly recall wanting to cry for no reason at all and feeling overwhelming love for a man that I had been trying desperately to push away. I could no longer deny that I loved him deeply and wanted him in my life. I had been pushing him away because my kind of love would drive me crazy. The only way I knew how to love was obsessively and possessively. When you love that way you have no peace, and the person you love is always under scrutiny and never fully trusted. I don’t want that. That yoga pose opened me to my emotions, and I surrendered and went deeper into myself to understand why I was so emotionally retentive but inwardly wild with passionate. I desired to let it all go and gain proper balance. Every day I release a bit more, and I have come to accept that even if things don’t work out between us I won’t harbor the heartbreak and block love from flowing in, out, and through me. He is not mine to own. Healthy love is love without ownership or attachment. Love is and should be as free as the wind. I am also more mindful of my body and gauge it to see if I am holding tension anywhere. I noticed I hold tension in my back when doing the dishes and slump my back and shoulders when I’m procrastinating and not feeling truly confident.

I have so many more issues to be worked out within myself, but learning to let go has been a beautiful experience for me. I now look forward to discovering more and more of who and what I am by releasing what hinders me. What do you have yet to release?

Non-traditional Daddy's Girl

I am not much of a daddy’s girl in the traditional sense. I don’t think my dad is Superman or that he can fix any and everything. I’ve always seen him for what he was first and foremost, a man.

For as long as I can remember, my dad has tried to prove his love to me. I loved my dad, but I hated his flaws. Somewhere along the lines of loving the man and hating his flaws, rejection of his love got tossed into the equation. That left me with a void that I would spend most of my adult life trying to fill.

As an adult woman I have been searching endlessly for love, the love of a man. I just want someone to love me past my hurts and pains and see me, the woman behind the enigma, the scared little girl that fears having her tender heart broken by a man whose life hers revolves around, a man that will protect me even from himself. 

My daddy was the first man to ever break my heart, and it wasn’t because of anything he did to me personally. Initially I did think my dad was Superman and that he could do no wrong. I wanted nothing more than to be in his presence. There was a time he could soothe me better than my mother, and mothers are the ultimate sources of nurturing and comfort. It was his relationship with my mother that shattered the heart of the daddy’s girl and created the mind of an analyst that thinks but doesn’t relay thoughts, feels but doesn’t express emotions.

The man he was with my mother was a different man from the one he was with me. This dichotomy of extremely different temperaments befuddled and scared me. Little girls grow up to be women, so I thought the way he treated my mother he would one day start treating me. In an effort to protect myself, I shut down when it came to him. I rarely ever kiss, hug, or even engage in conversations with my father, but I can clearly see his hurts, pains, weaknesses, strengths, his wonderfulness and huge capacity to heal and create good, and his ability to totally destroy anything good.  

It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized this is exactly how I go about my love relationships with men. I can see them clearly and love with an all consuming love that, the only way I can describe is via a poem I once wrote entitled Persephone: 

I don’t want companionship. I want to be your owner, your devourer. I have raging passions that see only in shades of red, white, and black. The multifaceted taste of your blood is requested upon my palate. My lungs have need of the air that is your spirit. A need to consume your soul lies in the abyss of my heart. The billowing smokes of Hell have nothing on the need of my love to possess you. I am Queen of a kingdom that's not my own, longing for the spring when I can emerge from the depths of dark love and bring to you my gift of beauty, light, and a love that heals.

The problem with this kind of love is that though it consumes me wholly, the men I love rarely ever truly know they are loved this hard, this darkly, richly, and powerfully because I never really open up to them because I fear they will become monsters that break my heart. It wasn’t until now that I realized just how much my relationship with my father mirrors my relationships with men. They love me and try to prove their love, but they themselves never fully feel loved by me. Though I hail them as Kings in my heart and spirit they never really know it because I treat them as mere men that are flawed possessing the power to hurt me. 

My goal is to work on the healing of my emotional relationship with my daddy. I am at a point in my life that finds me wanting marriage, a family, another baby, and just peace and happiness. You can’t conquer what you won’t confront, so I plan to conquer the false sense of lack of love by embracing and accepting the very thing that has always been readily accessible to me, my daddy’s unconditional love. I am now challenging myself to go on a journey of releasing false perceptions and reconditioning my mind to line up with my heart with regard to love. I always say love shouldn’t be so damn complicated, and truly it isn’t. I was the one making it complicated. Now maybe I can unfasten the lovelorn sign from my forehead as I learn to openly express what is consuming me inside: LOVE!!! Love is truly the very essence of who I am as a person, as a woman. I have so much of it to give.

Peace, love, and light

-Q

Mission to Heal

For the last few months I have been on a journey of awareness and seeking my higher self, higher thoughts, higher vibrations. I believe there is more to life than the simple working to survive and take occasional vacations and stay-cations. I have always been pretty intuitive, but now I am learning to not second guess what I feel in my gut. I vibe off energy.

Since starting on this new journey I have drifted away from some of the people I once held dear to me. Bits of their characters I had once either subconsciously ignored or been oblivious to began to surface, and I realized I had been in the company of people that either really didn’t like me, were jealous, were in secret competition, or all three. I have never been one to ever think anyone was jealous of or threatened by me because I can’t fathom why anyone would feel that way. I’m no angel, but I am also no devil. I reside on the side of just trying to stay in my lane and let other people live their lives however they choose and living my own with sprinkles of love, lust, spirituality, peace, light, and a little bit of mischief to break up the monotony and sate my free spirit. 

Although people began leaving, other people began to filter in. The new people all possessed beautiful souls and spirits. It was as if we all knew each other from different times and spaces, long lost friends from past lives. One of the hardest lessons I have had to learn in this season of my life is how to let go and become a revolving spiritual door. I had a bad habit of harboring hurt feelings and feelings of abandonment and rejection all while trying to rationalize and analyze why some people leave me, hurt me, don’t like me, or just don’t want me. I am learning that some people truly only have a season in your life and are not meant to be held on to. Learn the lesson and bid them adieu when their times have expired with no hard feelings. I also learned that there are others that should be cherished and the relationships nourished. 

Learning to let go and not over analyze has been a bit of a challenge for me because I have a highly analytical mind and am more emotionally sensitive than I let on, but it has been worth the challenge. I finally have clarity as to what my purpose in life is, and how to go about fulfilling that purpose. I feel lighter, more peaceful, and at ease. I can literally feel the stress melting away as I release the negative thoughts, fears, and regrets. My new-found mission in life is simply healing and aiding others in their own healings. It’s not a religious thing, but a spiritual, energy, and vibe thing. 

Peace, love, and light,

Q

Lust

Apparently I look like the poster child for lust and sex appeal. I would be lying to say lust isn’t my vice. I love the feeling of wanting, needing, yearning, craving, and finally being sated. It’s crazy I suppose, a self inflicted torture of sorts that leads to over indulgence only to do it all over again, but it has a way of making me feel alive…punishment then fulfillment.

As for sex appeal, I think it has more to do with attitude, chemistry, and confidence. I believe in both lacy as well as nonexistent unmentionables and sultry perfume with hints of vanilla, jasmine, and musk. Not for the man, but for myself. I do most of what I do for myself. I feel just as sexy donning chucks and goofy T-shirts as I do wearing fitted dresses and high heels. When you feel sexy, I think they (men) sense it, and it heightens their lust. That’s my goal, to always have my man lust for me. I want to be 50 plus and still have him look at me with that fire and hunger in his eyes. I think perhaps, sex appeal also lies in being equal parts girly, minxish, cerebral, and whimsical.

Why are we talking about lust and sex appeal? Because it isn’t a comfortable topic for many women, especially women that are in long term relationships, and I get asked many times by women about these topics. Most find themselves in ruts and feeling down because they feel their men aren’t attracted to them anymore. I just want to take these women by the hands and lead them to the nearest lingerie and dress shops and dare them to sex it up a little. Sex appeal is not something to shun or be ashamed of. Honey, I will be old and (not gray because I will be dyeing these strands) putting my saggy boobs in pretty push up bras and wearing kitten heels being just as sassy and feisty as I want to be. Don’t judge me!

Basically, my unsolicited advice is to just own your sexuality and sex appeal. Lust inside of a relationship can be a beautiful thing. What woman doesn’t want that Song of Solomon chapter seven kind of interconnected lust and love? I certainly do!

(Song of Solomon Chapter 7 for your pleasure - The Message Translation)

Shapely and graceful your sandaled feet,

    and queenly your movement—

Your limbs are lithe and elegant,

    the work of a master artist.

Your body is a chalice,

    wine-filled.

Your skin is silken and tawny

    like a field of wheat touched by the breeze.

Your breasts are like fawns,

    twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is carved ivory, curved and slender.

    Your eyes are wells of light, deep with mystery.

    Quintessentially feminine!

Your profile turns all heads,

    commanding attention.

The feelings I get when I see the high mountain ranges

    —stirrings of desire, longings for the heights—

Remind me of you,

    and I’m spoiled for anyone else!

Your beauty, within and without, is absolute,

    dear lover, close companion.

You are tall and supple, like the palm tree,

    and your full breasts are like sweet clusters of dates.

I say, “I’m going to climb that palm tree!

    I’m going to caress its fruit!”

Oh yes! Your breasts

    will be clusters of sweet fruit to me,

Your breath clean and cool like fresh mint,

    your tongue and lips like the best wine.

The Woman

Yes, and yours are, too—my love’s kisses

    flow from his lips to mine.

I am my lover’s.

    I’m all he wants. I’m all the world to him!

Come, dear lover—

    let’s tramp through the countryside.

Let’s sleep at some wayside inn,

    then rise early and listen to bird-song.

Let’s look for wildflowers in bloom,

    blackberry bushes blossoming white,

Fruit trees festooned

    with cascading flowers.

And there I’ll give myself to you,

    my love to your love!

Love-apples drench us with fragrance,

    fertility surrounds, suffuses us,

Fruits fresh and preserved

    that I’ve kept and saved just for you, my love.