Rerouting...

Captain's Log: 11.16.15

I need to write this now. Before I know the outcome. Before the celebration. Before I even know if there will be a celebration. 

Before the possible disappointment of not getting the call. 

I'm feeling joy in this moment. I am feeling on edge and fearful but I am joy filled about taking a risk professionally. Besides all the shit talking I do, I'm not a big risk taker. 

Never been entrepreneurial. Never gamble. 

Never share all of me with any one person. 

Never say what I think and how I feel when it needs to be said and especially to those that have power over me.

I play it safe. 

This may be hard to believe for some but I'm very cautious. I fear failing. I fear falling. I fear making mistakes. So I am hesitant and over process everything in my head and with others. I worry a lot. 

What if I listen to myself? What if I change course? What if I make a mistake? What will others think? What if I say, do, or write what I actually think and feel?

 I wake up full of anxiety most days and I stuff it down or breathe through it until it subsides. I do what others say I should be doing although I often silently protest. I resist in the forms of ambivalence, avoidance and being "under" productive.  

But today I await the response to my recent risk taking. I listened to this loud little voice inside me, it was Monique, reminding Sekile what her life goals had been way back when. She wanted to be a social worker. She wanted to serve her community. She wanted to help girls and women. She asserted herself, forcing me to not settle for another's life quest. 

My child abuse and incest trauma directed me towards a profession that was founded on helping others in crisis and transition. Yet, as I continued with my studies and came in contact with folks who questioned and critiqued my life choices, I cowered and shrunk in the light. I changed course to be like one of them. The intellectuals and scholars. Their eloquence demanded respect and I loved the way they commanded others' attention. I also wanted to be like the well off middle class folks. I didn't want to financially struggle and kept hearing "you won't get paid a lot as a social worker". I knew I couldn't go back home and be a dependent in an unsafe and violent house. No, I refused to return to that hell.

But mostly,  I wanted to be seen and heard so I plowed forward on their path thinking it was my path. I worked hard at trying to be them and even when I thought I had perfected emulating them, they still shunned me for not doing it right. I contorted and disguised myself and the toxic process exposed me anyway. Today I thank them for helping me see me for me, for I have been wearing a very heavy mask. 

I have been off my path for so long, I almost forgot who I was and what I set out to do with my life. This year, I felt myself cracking under the pressure and began to come undone. The mask was heavy and I needed clean air in my lungs. 

So I had  a choice to make, go deeper into this false life or take a risk and retrieve myself. 

I am no less afraid. I am no less unsure. I am no more clear of my path...but I took the risk and it feels electric! My joy feels bigger than the nagging fear of failure that is ever present. I do hope my phone rings with good news of a new position but I want to cherish this "before" moment of joy. This moment of choosing to do the unthinkable. This moment of not walking away but of choosing to walk toward my light.

this quote helped to propel me forward

Captain's Log: 4.16.15

It's been exactly 5 months since I drafted the post above. I decided not to publish it because it would have publicly revealed that I was on the job market. Well, I never got the call I was waiting for back in November. The university offered to position to another deserving candidate. Instead, I propelled forward and committed to searching for a position, whether inside or outside of higher education, that would bring me joy. There was more disappointment along the way and my emotions have been heightened and conflicted in ways I did not know was possible. I think my turning inward and moving away from many of the activities and people I loved was in some ways acts of self preservation. I just needed to steer all my energy in simply staying alive and staying stable psychologically.  By the end of 2015 I was emotionally, psychologically, and physically drained but my spirit is strong and I am determined to live.

It's been 5 months and in those five months I have not only become clearer about my path, I have found another job!!!!!!  I remain afraid of the unknown but I feel unstuck and spiritually free. I am living through both my pain and joy in this moment and accepting their coexistence. This is my journey and I have chosen to reroute. 

Deweeding My Garden

My intention for today is to let go and let Goddess

.

To be specific, I am in great need of letting go of 

self doubt, shame, resentment, anxiety, apathy and fear.

These emotions have haunted me over the warm seasons of 2015,

 growing like weeds instead of flowers and today, on the Autumnal Equinox,

 I am deciding to tend my own spiritual garden. I will let these spiritual weeds go and let them die.

 I will have to pull them from their roots and burn them.
As a gardener, I realize that weeds are strong and 

that even the smallest amount of root left behind will allow it to grow and smother my

flowers and plants again. I accept that fact, for I cannot change it. These emotions live

within me but I will not let them consume and dominate me any longer. 

Today, I call upon the goddess mother, Kali, and my ancestors to support and guide me as I kill

off the old and destructive within me. I will use this new season to plant new

flowers and direct my energies towards new journeys and my desired ways of

existing in the world.  I know not what the future holds for me but, like a seed buried in soil, I will stand in the sunlight and the moonlight each day as I seek answers. I will take in fresh air

into my lungs and I will drink water plentifully. These acts are to honor my garden. my soul.

my spirit. my body. all else that is meant to be will blossom into the fruits of my labor and my love. I invite you all to pull weeds from your gardens as well for our gardens and spirits are connected. 

Here is a small ritual that I will do today to honor renewal. Join me!

Bulb Planting Ceremony.

You don’t need a yard or garden to do this, or to take lots of time digging a bed. All you need is a small outdoor (or indoor) space and a good-sized pot. You can find big plastic pots at garage sales or thrift stores, use old food containers with drainage, or you can invest in a lovely vessel for your flower bulbs of intention.

Visit your local garden shop or farmer’s market and pick up  any of your favorite spring or summer flowers. Grab a small bag of potting soil too if you don’t have any. They sell it at the dollar store.

Fill your pot with soil, and bury each bulb at least an inch into the moist dirt. As you place each bulb into the dark soil, state your intention for those things you want to incubate and gather energy during the winter months.

Water when you are done and let your bulb intentions gather their own momentum as they hibernate in the soil. Some months after Solstice they will send up their first shoots and you will be reminded of your intentions and the work you wish to do as the seasons turn.

Interested in other Autumn equinox renewal ceremonies? See here for the bulb ritual and others http://www.holistichotsauce.com/5-rituals-to-celebrate-balance-and-invite-renewal-at-autumn-equinox/  or share yours with us! 

My grannie and her neighbor tending to their garden

weeds I pulled soon after penning this post

we gon' be alright

For the past few weeks I have been nervous about how I was going to be able to give my nephew a "better life" here in Chicago. I am fairly new to the area and have no idea how to go about finding him a job or internship. I'm excited but want to truly "help" him.

 I woke up to his Facebook post reflecting on his life as a black boy and boldly stating that he was living in spite of what the world has said about him!  He also expressed gratitude for where he had come from but noted it was time for him to move on and begin his new life.

His post was like bright sunshine. His words clarified my perspective so fiercely that he blinded me with his brilliance.  As I reread his post tears streamed from my eyes. It was as if our lifelines were connected, like two strikes of lightening that criss cross for a second. He, like me, knew when it was time to go. to get FREE. But most importantly, HE doesn't need ME to "help" him. He is helping himself. He is self determined. He is a survivor. He is my blood. We are cut from the same cloth. I am supporting him but he is his own man. He is charting his course. Shining so very brightly. 

There's an eeriness in the air when a person makes up their mind. There is a look in their eyes that says it all. An intensity that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.  They don't need to be pushed, cajoled, or  encouraged. They don't need role models or mentors. They are brave and driven,  and yes, they still need praise from others. But they themselves have decided to move through world taking big steps. Determined. He has that look in his eyes. 

So as I wait for his plane to land and my family circle to grow wider all I can say is I'm so proud of my nephew, for he is truly growing into his fullest being. I also am deeply humbled that I am here to bear witness to his life affirming journey...and we gon' be alright!

6 steps you can take to begin healing from trauma: re blogging

http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/2015/07/6-steps-you-can-take-to-start-healing-from-trauma-right-now/

homing device

I revise my life narrative of family and survival each time I come home to NC. 

Mother's Day: My glass box of emotion

I feel every emotion on this day and no one feeling outranks the other. It is this day that leaves me emotionally drained every year. every year. Nonetheless,  I remain eternally grateful for the JOY of these three rays of sunshine!! The polka dots make me smile, too. 

If you or someone you know is feeling similarily by the heaviness of Mother's Day (and/or Father's Day) as a child abuse survivor,  here's a validating read. (Please note that some of the content can be triggering for some) http://www.slate.com/articles/life/family/2013/02/abusive_parents_what_do_grown_children_owe_the_mothers_and_fathers_who_made.2.html

on the balcony

 I shared my trauma story with my daughter yesterday. I shared it with both of her brothers in the past. My oldest son came into my room one time when I was sleeping and his presence triggered a flashback. I screamed at him to get out of my room. I decided shortly after to share with him that my father would molest me at night and that I got freaked out a bit but was truly sorry. He was understanding. my poor baby! I shared my story with my younger son out of anger and frustration. He was angry with his dad about our then upcoming move to Chicago and I had had enough of his jabs at his dad. I confronted him and shared that while what he was going through was tough, that is was not trauma and that his father was trying to make a better life for him. I shared what having an abusive father was really like and said I wished I had a loving dad like his. yeah, I went there. He soon chilled out and he is the most adjusted of my 3 children since we have moved. Our talk will probably will have him in therapy later in life but my buttons were pushed. (note to self: have a 2nd talk with him) My poor baby!!!! But yesterday was the last time that I shared my story with one of my children and it was the one I dreaded the most. Telling my daughter...

After a week long hectic move, it was the 1st day Z and I were hanging out on our new balcony. She was sharing how she and some girls from her school were organizing a protest against the school's sexist dress code. We talked double standards and respectability politics. She mentioned that it is just the older women, particularly black women that say something to her. I told her I had her back but also explained that some black folks are conservative and some may mean no harm and think they are protecting you from men's/boy's advances. I explained that black women's sexuality has historically been exploited and our responses (good and problematic) have been attempts to reclaim our dignity. I explained that even with those histories of racism and sexism, black woman and girls should demand their bodily autonomy. We agreed that what someone is wearing has nothing to do sex or enticement and people should not police a girl's/woman's body. I noted that men and boys should be in control of themselves. We discussed rape and rape culture. We both acknowledged that people rape people and that it is wrong. 

 But I also confessed that even I had to get used to her wearing leggings, short shorts and bikinis once her body started filling out. I told her it was hard and that I too wanted to protect her/cover her up. I then shared how it has been a struggle watching her do her thing as she grows up but I know that I have to let her go. I finally took a deep breathe and said that "it happened to me" and that I wanted to be sure it didn't happen to her. If you could have seen my baby's face when she realized what I was saying and as the tears welled up in her little eyes as my voice quivered. my poor baby!!!!! I kept going before I lost the nerve to get it out and shared that it was my father. She came over and hugged me.  I told her it was a scary time in my life but that I was ok. I told her I was her age. I told her I was proud of her for knowing that her body is hers and that no one should tell her what she can and cannot do with it. She said, with tears streaming down her face that she was sorry that IT happened to me. I thanked her and we comforted each other. 

The moment was both incredibly heavy and somehow also very light. If felt like we saw into each other's souls when we looked at each other with shared love and concern. I asked her if the balcony could be our "spot" for sharing and connecting and she said yes. Then Cabral called us for breakfast! Perfect timing, pancakes sooth the soul! 

p.s. School District 97, you'd better look out because my daughter and her crew are coming for ya!!  

I've got that joy, joy, joy down in my heart!

Today's theme song "I got that joy, joy, joy, down in my heart"! Sometimes when my kids are being ungrateful or when they can't see the blessing that is their lives, I say "you are blessed, be blessed!" Taking my own advice today. Feeling blessed and thanking the creator for my joy!  I had this romantic notion that Ced and I would close on our house, get the keys, and go straight to our new home and make love on the floor. I was going to pack a picnic basket for us and I bought a bouquet of flowers to put on the mantel. But when we found out we can't get into the house until 4/5 I felt defeated. We have been working so hard to get this place. So much has gone wrong so we thought if we can just close all will be good. I actually got my period last night after 20 rounds of phone calls and emails to broker, lawyer and agent. It's been like this for weeks. Calls. Emails. Franticness. The last time I got my. period was back in August when a colleague stepped on my spirit. Stress induced periods?!! No ma'am!! So I'm sitting here this morning reflecting. I have come to realize that life is not romantic. It is real. And that it is up to me to decide how I will feel about it. So I choose joy today. Today I become a home owner at a time when that reality has sadly become harder and harder for hard working and deserving Americans. I am recentering myself, recognizing my privilege, rejoicing in my blessings, and reclaiming my joy.