note to self

If I haven't mentioned it before, I am IN LOVE with books.  The real things...filled with pages that actually have to be turned with your fingers, not scrolled through.  Needless to say, I am going through serious withdrawal with the closing of most of the major brick & mortar bookstores.  So last week, I hit yet another Border's that was plastered with big yellow and black discounted signs.  Problem is prices are still not rock bottom but the pickings are already getting slim.  So when I came across Note to Self by Andrea Buchanan, it didn't take long for me to snap it up as the title screamed at me, especially in my present state.  Plus it was 40% off. :-)



The stories are inspirational, as should be expected, but they also reiterated something I've known for a while now.  A good majority of the pain that we as women endure is due to our love of a man...or more than one...perhaps even at the same time .  Many of us pour ourselves all into a man or our relationships for the love of that man....and the need of that love in return.  And my God, if we actually do or at least believe that we are loved deeply, there is almost nothing that we would not endure for that man.  Problem is, there are men out there that do not know what to do with that level of love and commitment.  And if given to this "unready" and, dare I say, "undeserving" man...hardship, humiliation and heartbreak is sure to follow.  One story in particular really made me think about my choices for my life and relationships. 

A woman, who is now 70 years old, married the love of her life at the age of 50, after being in what turned out to be a dead-end marriage for over a decade.  This new love that she found opened up her world to so many positive things, places and people.  Experiences she had only dreamed of.  I mean, she was simply brimming over with the MUTUAL love of this man.  Neither of them was perfect....but IT was perfect.  One day, she received a letter from an insurance company, as her husband was in the process of purchasing additional life insurance.  She opened it to find out that he had been denied because he was HIV positive.  Sigh.

Shock on all ends followed, with an explanation from him that he must have contracted it from a prostitute that he regularly had sex with on his frequent business trips to the West Coast.  She decided not to address the infidelity as it was futile at that moment...apparently.  Long story short, she was found to be infected too... but instead of becoming angry and bitter towards her man, she showered him with unconditional love, and while battling the disease herself, took care of him AND kept his secret, per his request.  Shortly after he died, she discovered he had been in a long term HOMOSEXUAL relationship with a man who had died in 1986.  So her precious love, who she had thought would never PURPOSELY put her at risk...who she never blamed for her infection, had in fact lied and deceived her in the worst way.  Gay sex.  Unprotected gay sex.  Then home to the waiting loving wife for more....unprotected sex.  There wasn't even a deathbed confession. Sigh again.

bite of the day ~ LOVE HARD, with all the passion and openness your dear heart can muster.  But please love and protect yourself just as hard...and with eyes wide open.  God help us.

thirtiesgirl



dear GOD.

the days are getting darker and cloudier....and rainy.  the storms are coming.  the wind is blowing.  i feel chilly already.  please help me keep the sun shining in my heart.  let the inner light keep me bright and hopeful...even as my outer world changes. joy. happiness.  peace.

amen.

dear YOU.

as i get older, i understand why "the old folks" used to say "just keep on living".  this was usually in response to trying to share some wisdom or calm a young & dumb moment down.  i understand the preciousness of that statement....now.

 i came across the raw footage of my wedding last night, and for some reason, decided to watch a bit of it.  i wanted to see if i was really as calm as i remember...as sure of my decision as i remember.  i was.  but i also saw so many out of order things that was a foreshadowing of the storms ahead.  my father-in-law (r.i.p.) who, when asked to say something to us on camera, was really the only one who seriously alluded to darker days ahead.  in the midst of the laughter, joy (for some) and light....he looked into the camera with gleaming eyes and said "I just hope they have a good life....".  he paused for a thoughtful moment and then went into how we will have to fight through the storms that were sure to come.  little did i know, the tsunami, tornado & hurricane were already at the door...knocking steadily and hard.  SELAH.

bite of the day ~ sometimes looking back can take you forward.  move forward.

thirtiesgirl

these eyes...

It was 7th grade....12 years old.  That was the first time I realized I couldn't see.  Squinting.  Straining.  Blurry vision.  Trying to see the teacher's notes projecting on the wall via transparency and the Sharpie black marker.  That was actually how I met one of my best friends for life...copying notes off the nice freckle-faced yellow girl who sat near me in every class we had together, since we happened to share the same last name. That's what brought me and Aneatra together.  Those notes of hers were a huge reason I was able to maintain my solid A-B average....that's my girl to this day.  Hope she still has 20-20.

I avoided telling my parents for years.  Instead I went through junior high and most of high school without being able to see.  I survived somehow by speaking to anyone who waved in my direction (didn't want to be deemed rude and get jumped after school...or worse, talked about real bad)...and sharing notes.  But that wouldn't fly in college.  I had to break down and wear glasses, which I only did in class.  I took my chances everywhere else, until I got contact lenses.

Vanity.  Pure vanity...along with insecurity caused me to neglect my eyes for years.  Maybe if I had sounded the alarm early on, my vision would have been corrected long ago.   Or maybe they should have MANDATORY eye exams in schools.  Just a thought.  Sigh. 

Yesterday, I went in for my annual eye exam...late since I should have gone in May.  I ABHOR going to any type of doctor.  I don't like to be poked at and prodded.  And it always feels so cold.  The eye doctor experience isn't that bad in itself (at least you keep your clothes on...and legs or mouth are not spread eagle!)....but I dread it for another reason.  Glasses.  Contacts.  These are band-aids.  Illusions of good vision.  But as soon as I take one off, the other MUST be put on, unless I'm going to sleep.  I ABHOR being dependent...on anything.  And I am.  At 37, I am completely dependent on something outside of myself just to see properly.  And my annual eye exam continues to highlight that fact. 

"We have a slight change of vision...," she pleasantly said.  For years, I've had the same prescription in both eyes.  Now she says one eye is slightly weaker than the other.  Is that what the twitching is about?  (No, that's lack of sleep and stress she confirms.)  When I asked what I can do to improve my vision, something I've asked previously....there is no definitive answer.  No hope.  No attempt at hope.  Not even "eat your carrots" hope! 

I stare at her through blurred eyes, not because I'm not wearing my tinted black square glasses this day, but because she's dropped some disgusting yellow goop into them to check for disease.  She murmurs something about enjoying them while we can..."that's the best we can do".  SERIOUSLY!?!  No.  I'm only 37 and you say enjoy my eyes while I can???  That's the best hope you can offer?  Wow.  I "see", I have to take matters into my own hands.  Where's the herbs??  Eye exercises??? I'm not going "lights out" without a fight! sigh.

bite of the day ~ Your overall health, ultimately, is your responsibility.  Take action...while you can.

thirtiesgirl

a new leaf....

I am NOT a morning person.  Not that I sleep all day when I'm not working....but I like to wake up naturally. (Who doesn't???) I don't bound out of bed at 4:30am to workout or pray or...to do anything.  As a matter of fact, I don't bound out of bed unless I've overslept (which rarely happens).  There was a time I didn't even talk in the morning.  Not because anything was wrong.  I'm just NOT a morning person.

However, I've finally accepted something that I've subconsciously been avoiding.  MOST HIGHLY PRODUCTIVE PEOPLE ARE MORNING PEOPLE.  Most successful people are morning people.  Most people that accomplish great things get up EARLY in order to "attack the day". 

I received some of the best advice of my life on my birthday when I had dinner with my "bonus" father...he said "You have to write EVERY day.  I don't care if it's 5 minutes.  Write something every day.  Get up early and start your day off writing.  Trust me, you will feel so good about the rest of your day knowing that you've already accomplished something for yourself."  I needed that.

And so I've decided to turn over a new leaf.  I am now a morning person.  I set a new alarm time and have committed to only hitting snooze once....as opposed to 3 times.  I MUST write.  And I must do it early...because these days, I have little energy to do it later.  Perhaps my creative juices will begin flowing so much that what I begin in the morning will call to me the rest of the day until I can't wait to get back to it...the script, the short story, the novel, the article....the blog post.  I now realize that in order to see the greatness in me come out on a greater level, I must CHANGE.  I have to do something different if what I am doing is not working.  I must take action instead of simply talking and dreaming.  Actually, I stopped a lot of the dream talking awhile ago.  It was getting irritating.  I can't even stand other people doing it these days...just talking.  Do something about manifesting your dreams instead of just talking about them all the time!  Or else SHUT UP!  Because it gets old.  Seriously. Sigh.

The alarm went off at 6am this morning.  And yes, that is early for me.  I hit snooze only once but made sure not to fall back to sleep.  This is my baby step to the next level of my life.  I'm investing in MYSELF.  And it's all good for me....and you too.  You'll see.  (BIG SMILE)

bite of the day ~ The early bird really does get the worm.  Become the early bird.

thirtiesgirl

my own personal New Year's Day (resolutions included)...

Dear Big Daddy in my heart....

Thank You.

Today I am a young, vibrant 37 year old girl-n-woman.  I alone hold the key to my personal happiness...because You gave it to me.  I choose to love, even when it hurts....but I also choose not to LET love hurt.  (That was last year's story....and the year before that...and the year before that....and the....well...)  This year, I stretch my arms and my heart to receive all the good life has to give.  Good food. (smile)  Good experiences.  Good people.  Good LOVE. (BIG smile)

I embrace all that I am...all that I desire to be...all that I will be.  This year, I will be truly good...to ME.  And now, We begin.  C'mon God.

bite of the day ~ Grow old-er...and wiser.  Cheers. :-)

thirtiesgirl

Pastor Zach Tims Death



I received a call from my best friend yesterday to tell me that Zachery Tims was dead.  She thought of me, for reasons she knows, when she heard the news and the circumstances surrounding it.  I was not an avid follower of Pastor Tims.  I had come across his broadcast a few years back and was immediately intrigued by this young pastor who reminded me of Will Smith.  So very cute.  And his wife too.  Well, up until yesterday, I didn't know she was no longer his wife.  Fifteen years of marriage gone up in smoke after chasing...or tasting...some stank Parisian t-ass.  Booty.  Whateva.  Sigh.  I apologize.  That fact pissed me off.  But more so, it saddened me.  Because I believe, with the little bit of information I have, that God's grace was in full effect when that particular scandal broke in Pastor Tim's life.  Another crossroads.  It was a chance to turn around and make better decisions.  Right choices.  I feel in my gut that he would still be alive today if he had still been married to Riva Tims and more importantly, truly repentant in turning away from whatever double life he was apparently leading.   I mean, "men's club" !?!  No business there in the first place.  sigh. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am not condemning Pastor Zach....nor am I angry with him.  I am saddened that this bright light has been, not only extinguished, too soon and in this manner....but that his very legacy is being tarnished.  A white powder substance found in his pocket!?!   Isn't the MEMORY (i.e. how the world remembers) the righteous supposed to be blessed?  I don't believe that verse is just talking about being able to recall things with our minds.    

I pray to God that there IS some foul play.  I really do.  Some set-up...some deranged person from his past or present that caused his death and covered it up to look like he was a preacher gone BACK to bad....or perhaps never truly left it.  I pray to God this is not as it appears.

At the end of the day, we all have to WAKE UP.  The world is getting darker and even the very elite of the "righteous" crew can be snuffed out if one ventures too close to the line.  The line being playing with fire....teaching or saying one thing and living another...not being honest about where we are in our walk and our struggles.  Cause we ALL have them.  The problem is when we act like we don't.  With God's help, we CAN overcome it all.  But we have to start with being open and honest...and not wait til we get "busted" to get help. At that point, it may be too late. sigh.  

R.I.P.  Zachery Tims.  Only God truly can judge you...cause we all jacked up without Him. Selah.

bite of the day ~ let's take the masks off, people...cause what's done in the dark WILL come to the light, one way or the other. 

thirtiesgirl

death & life

Two days ago, as I walked down the serene tree-lined street that is my block, I saw a dead rabbit.  A dead BUNNY RABBIT.  I was appalled and sad all at once.  I wanted to turn away....regretting that I was that observant on that particular day. But I had to take just one good look.  Maybe to confirm it was actually dead...or maybe I am just curious about what "death" looks like.  I've seen dead bodies before.  In hospital beds, in caskets...too many funerals to count...but to see a fresh kill.  Before the cleaning up, the fixing up...the pretty-ing up.  Before the blood has turned cold and black. 

This cute little bunny had been crushed...almost split in two by...something.  It's little back paws dangled lifelessly in the street while his head lay on the curb.  In a flash, my analytical mind went to work.  Did he know today would be the day?  The day his speedy dash across a semi-busy street would be the "death" of him?  Did he go instantly...before he knew what hit him?  Or did he feel the last of life leave his little body?

I continued home with a million thoughts running through my mind.  It's amazing how when you pay attention how many lessons you can learn...how many emotions you can have....reactions to what seems like the simplest things.  Roadkill.  The Circle of Life.  An unending cycle.  I've never taken death too well.  It is....abnormal...to me.  To be separated from those you love, even if you know they have made their way into heaven.  The weirdest thing is when someone is killed suddenly.  Upon hearing the news, a common reaction is "But I just saw him!?!  "I just saw her yesterday!"  As if that fact should make a difference.  Shock and disbelief causes all of us to bask in the nonsensical....all the while trying to make sense of the tragedy.  And it is.  Even if the person is in their nineties, like my great-grandmother.  The tragedy of "getting sick" and dying.  That is abnormal....yet normal for us in this society.

Mr. Dead Bunny made me once again acknowledge how much each day is a blessing.  Not to be taken for granted.  Bask in the moment.  In the embrace of a loved one.  In the laugh of a good friend...or enemy.  I am determined to take everything in.  I want to feel life in truth...simply because I can.  Amy Winehouse canNOT any longer. Neither can Bubba.  But I CAN.  And I will one moment at a time.

Yesterday, as I made my way up the same block and onto another....I threw my head back and ate as much air as my lungs would allow.  When I exhaled and concentrated my gaze into my future....across a manicured lawn and into the greenery went a rabbit.  A BUNNY RABBIT!  A living and breathing bunny rabbit!  I smiled...holding back an all out belly laugh and said to the stranger walking by me "Did you see that rabbit!?!"  She didn't respond.  Probably couldn't hear me beyond the blasting earphones plugged in.  Or maybe she just thought I was a crazy.  "You missed it...", I thought. An  unending cycle.  Wow.  I guess life really does go on.  Selah.


bite of the day ~  Live.

thirtiesgirl