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?