Reflective Moments

Super Woman

PhotoGrid_1466079091812 — *I know… it’s the Wonder Woman logo. It still fits.*

Sometimes, having an “S” on my chest is absolutely exhilarating.

I can soar above buildings of negativity and slip between slimy cracks of simplemindedness.

I can side with truth on a sunny day while catching raindrops between my fingers… I am one bad mother-

“SHUT YO’ MOUTH!”

Who me? Be silent?

Not a chance.

I samba on Friday, make salsa on Saturday, and sit with the Supreme on Sunday.

I do marvelous things.

Serendipity doesn’t bother me.

I sop tears with my shirt.

I solidify liquidity, scoff at stupidity, select fabric meticulously, smile at evil beings, and sing seismic waves into eternity.

I am one bad mother of creativity.

Until…

My wounds start leaking…

My throat needs to be cleared.

My vision is blurry.

My vest gets weakened and I’m weary from flying so high that oxygen can’t get me.

The wind is beating against my chest and my face winces at the pressure of the altitude AND the valley.

Warlords and warlocks laugh at me and I use my weapons skillfully although my “W” is peeking.

I’m femininely human with splashes of wisdom lighting my pathway like lightning flashes on a hot summer night.

I bat my lashes and wisps of freedom ripple from my eyes, whip across my shoulders, wrap around my loins, and graze my ankles.

As I wade through debris of destruction, it does not infect me. I am Super Woman.

I am She.

I am over the woes of man; I am your slice of heaven and always in demand.

I am needed when I’m not wanted.

Valued more than flaunted.

Satisfied and exemplified.

My simmer is uncompromised.

I am She.

She is Me

and We

are Super. Woman.

For a more inspiration, take a listen to one of my anthems Superwoman – courtesy of Queen Alicia Keys.

July 6, 2016 3

Independence Today!

In the spirit of the 4th of July, I decided to pose this question to myself for today’s WriterUNblock (see my Instagram for more of those).

The answer:

I’m definitely free of some things… more than I was a couple of years ago. I have a few stragglers still tagging along on my full-length skirt, but they’re losing their power by the month.

If you’ve ever heard that freedom isn’t free, you received wisdom. You may have to slay some demons within your soul or prune the weeds that are stunting your growth, but you can get it. You can be free. From whatever is clutching your potential to run and fly, you can fight AND win. Battle scars just show your strength, so get some. Get free. And don’t apologize for loving yourself enough to live.

Peace & thanks for listening. ✌

#redwhiteandyou

July 4, 2016 0

Be Great or Go Home.

Before I ever thought of becoming a University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Blazer, I was a University of Tennessee Volunteer… well, in my mind I was.

I saw powerful images of a Warrior and knew that UT was the place where I could shine. I couldn’t play a lick of basketball, but you couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t going to meet Pat Summitt on campus while walking to class one day. Try denying it, and I would emphatically defend that fantasy until you were a believer.

The Big Orange glow lured me into the graduate school application process years later when I decided to become an educator. I applied to both UAB and Tennessee. My grandmother was sick and I decided to stay in Birmingham. My letter from Tennessee came a few days after I confirmed my graduate journey as a Blazer. Somehow, I knew it would happen that way.

Nevertheless, I felt a strong connection to Knoxville because of one person. An unapologetic Shero that seemed to radiate from my TV screen each time I saw her. I could feel her fire and touch her tenacity. She was a lifter of those around her and you could see it in the eyes of her Lady Vols. For me, “The Summit” (as I called her in my mind), was a cataclysmic collision with athletic machismo. Her hand claps sent shockwaves into decades of prejudice and discrimination toward women and her stare would make any referee, coach, or player rethink their behavior.

In light of the news of her passing, what did I learn? What did I hear before bed last night? One lesson.

You can’t argue with excellence.

In the beginning it was a factor, but later… after sowing sweat and sincerity, it didn’t matter that she was female. Her excellence superseded her gender. In the end, she understood that either you be great or you go home and come back ready to be great. That’s all you have to choose from. You do the work behind the scenes and you eliminate the opportunity for inferiority and self-doubt to halt your drive. Sure, I could go down the statistics and accolades, but I’d like to point out the less-than-shiny ones.

Washing uniforms
Driving the team van
$250.00 per month of earnings

This is greatness. This is excellence at its finest. It starts at the bottom; it starts with service. With every perceived act of smallness, she exuded exponential positivity with a side of moxie. She was a powerhouse before anyone acknowledged that she had the juice… and she didn’t wait for them to figure it out. Her consistent investment in others yielded residual dividends.

100% graduation rate of her players
First women’s coach to earn more than $1 million in a season (2008-2009 season), trailblazing a path for other women to earn competitive coaching pay
Inspiring thousands of women to play like a girl and be proud of it

”

The Summit” yelled. She passionately pressed her players without apology. She paced across the attic of America’s glass ceiling with her 5’11” frame and dared anyone to say she couldn’t back up every seed she had sown. Her brand was excellence, and she trusted the product she poured into others. Whether or not the sexists acknowledge her equity, she was definitely not outworked. Her determination put more wind in my feminist cape to keep flying above gender stereotypes. Now, she has gone in the same fullness in which she was came.

I’m grateful that she was great before she went home.

Peace & Thanks for listening.

June 29, 2016 0

No, thanks. I’m watching my Father-Figure…

Screenshot_2015-06-15-22-37-49_1 A spoken word piece that one day I’ll have the courage to say in public. For now, this is the platform. To fathers and father-figures, I salute you today and everyday. Keep going. 👊

“Bills?
I pay them.
People?
I have to raise them?
Where are the instructions?
I don’t need them.
I’ll figure it out. Just let me see them.”

“Yes, I’m qualified.
Just give me chance.
My suit isn’t tailored.
I don’t know this dance, but
I promise I can do it.
I won’t be outworked.
I can figure it out
In my blue collar shirt.”

“How am I going to explain this when I get home?
They don’t get it. I’m really trying.
I feel alone…
Divisible
Invisible
At the same time.
Not having what you need
That’s despicable to me.
But there’s too many pieces I need to be
And I don’t know where to go
I’m trying to fix what’s broken, unspoken,
without a MANual
To help me grow.

That’s why I can’t show you
My tears and my fears.
The scars… I can’t hide.
My love for you is deep
But I can’t stretch my arms wide
Enough to help you understand
The battle I’ve learned to fight
The best way I can
Despite the tools I was given,
Living in a sardine can of lost dreams
Suffocating me with my own hands
I can’t breathe.”

“5 AM. Another day.
Gotta get out of here
Make a way
Make it happen
Scratching the surface
Until I find it.
God, I’m nervous.

I can’t cry.
I’m a man.
Men don’t complain.
They do what they can.
Family first.
Live second.
My net worth?
Please, don’t check it.”

I see you,
Invisible Man,
Walking tall in public
Encroached in spirit as you stand
Privately shaking, trying not to break open
Keep being, speaking as only you can.

Thank you. I mean it.
I know it’s your duty,
but gratitude is still in order
I appreciate you.
I’m grateful for your shoulders.

On behalf of every woman that’s ignorantly watching,
waiting for you to slip up
Lurking in lust, to trip you up
Buying your affection with the jewels between her thighs
I salute you for saying
“No, not tonight.”
For taking sons and daughters to football games and
Singing silly songs on the way to school
Worried about the gas tank not being full
Wishing that your bank account was bigger than a speck
Praying that you’ll move out of the projects
Hoping that your projects become successful
Dreaming for another way
Always helpful
Educating other folk’s kids everyday
You love them past their DNA.
You’re a survivor
Thriver
Pusher
Driver
The president of the house,
The kingdom we live in.
Your heart and passion supersede your dividends
And I thank you for the sleepless nights
Counting the costs
Catching our tears with your chest
Every time we felt lost.

Thank you. I mean it.
I know it’s your duty,
but gratitude is still in order
I appreciate your seed that
Built me to conquer
I recognize you because you look familiar
Like Jesus the Christ
My fearless Leader.

My burden bearer,
Distractions will come,
But I believe in you.
Those people? Over there?
They’re taking silent notes
Getting ready for their own test.
Only this time, without you knowing,
You’re the MANual.
You’re the model.
You’re the best.

Peace, Happy Father’s Day, & Thanks for listening. ✌

June 19, 2016 11

Open, Mopin’, Chopin

Hong-Yi-food-art-6-1kos0lg — Photo Credit: 31 Days of Food Creativity by Hong Yi

In response to The Daily Post’s One Word Prompt: Open

When we leave food uncovered, it becomes susceptible to anything surrounding it.

Gnats. Fruit flies. Ants. Bacteria. Grubby little hands. Grown man fingers. Just to name a few.

I’ve noticed that when hearts and minds are open, we experience the same challenges. Good things can come out of us when the walls of our hearts are open enough to let them out. Sometimes a crack is all it takes for a beam of light to shine on a dark situation. Also, the mind can be exposed to great intellectual seeds just waiting to burrow into our soul’s innermost concerns and germinate into solutions for our problems. When our being is open, fruitful results flow out of us and attract others. Like a beautiful cuisine on display, it is pretty to behold and smells deliciously divine, so it draws in the likes of those who wish to partake in its expected excellence.

On the other hand, this can pose an issue when it comes to matters of the heart and the fragility of the mind. Whenever the opportunity arises to expose greatness, there is also opportunity for disgrace and contamination.

We shine in hopes of receiving confirmation that we are authentically exceptional in our strengths and talents.

We spill our gifts and let them run freely to open hands in the audience; however, it comes with a price. The ants come to feast. The hands seek to devour and the bacteria is just along for the ride. Suddenly, the greatness becomes emptiness. The shine is dulled. The once beautiful cuisine appears in the imagination as the eyes see the crumbs. Being open sucks sometimes, and there’s not much we can do to prevent this ravishing to be brave in our openness.

Polish-French Pianist Chopin (Szopen in Polish) had his share of this phenomenon. In addition to his musical brilliance, his performance style wasn’t well received at larger concert spaces in the earlier stages of his career; nevertheless, he continued to pour his passion into his composition and flourished as a well-known as an artist. One fact most do not know about Chopin is that his body is buried in France (his creative home), but his heart was interred in Poland (his birthplace). Interesting.

There’s something to be said about the emphasis we place upon our giving. We can’t afford to mope around, focusing on the empty vessel we could become over time. Somehow the more we give, the more we obtain to give. The mere fact that we’re a vessel at all should be a graceful honor.

The world depends on our open door to greatness, but there’s nothing wrong with a gate to maintain its luster.

We have the opportunity each day to affect the lives of others in a positive magnitude that could send shockwaves into their future. Could you be abused and misused? Possibly… but those boundaries are up to you to uphold. Do what it takes to continue the flow.

No more moping. No more loathing.

Be open. Live open. Live free.

Peace & Thanks for listening.

June 16, 2016 0

Happy Memorial Day?

Good Day, Good People!

I hope your day is going well so far because guess what… it’s a holiday weekend, baby! *insert public jig here*

We’re not out of school yet, but at least I have a class-free Monday thanks to the service men and women who sacrificed their lives for our country. I teach a significant amount of veterans each quarter and yesterday one of them said something that struck a chord within me.

After class, she expressed her annoyance in that she hates it when people say “Happy Memorial Day” to a veteran. I asked her why although I had an idea of where she was going with the conversation. She explained that the day commemorates the death of fallen soldiers and there should not be a “happy” greeting in front of it because it’s not a happy occasion/holiday. I listened to the rest of her spill and so did a few lingering students waiting to sign the attendance roll. Considering it was a speech class and I encourage them to consider all sides or “voices” on an issue, I took the opportunity to share why someone would put “happy” in front of their memorial day.

My deceased military family members did not die in combat, but they did serve admirably. They were happy in doing what they loved… serving. Marines, Army, and Air Force run deeply in my family tree. Memorial Day for me is not happy because they aren’t here. It’s a Happy Memorial Day because I make sure to pause and celebrate their happiness. While I wouldn’t dare compare the pain of them being missing from my life to someone who has greeted the casket of their fallen soldier, I’m not sure if I’m completely in favor of removing the “happy” from the holiday. Their ultimate sacrifice was not happy, but their gift of service probably made them happy. Whenever I see military personnel (active, reserve, or veteran), I tell them thank you for serving. No matter what. Each time, I get the same response – “Thank you ma’am, “Thank you for your support,” or “It’s my pleasure.”

Maybe it’s ingrained, but I’d like to think they are doing something that makes them happy… serving others.

I understand her disdain for people that walk up to a veteran and saying “Happy Memorial Day” with a pasted smile. I sympathized with her past military experience where individuals were not respectful of her fallen comrades. I acknowledged that Monday may not be happy, for she is entitled to feel and commemorate as she deems appropriate.

She is the one with a “V” on her chest, not me. I cannot step into her shoes and say “I know how you feel.”

All I can do is honor my fallen with a circulation of happy memories and allow her to remember hers as she sees fit. She’s earned it.

What do you think? Should we take the “happy” from in front of memorial day?

Peace & Thanks for listening.

Photo Courtesy of American Soldier by Toby Keith

May 29, 2016 0

Where’s North?

A plan with no direction… What a sad plight. You’ve gotten everything ready. The paperwork. The people. The protocol. The capital. But where’s North?

Figuratively, I see North as the place where all other movement hinges. It’s the starting point. Once you know where North is, you know where to start moving. The next steps are predicated upon confirming that one direction and ignorance, in this case, is not bliss. Without this vital information, we travel in circles of frustration and become disoriented in our mistakes. Our former “Big Idea” becomes the bane of our existence and we sit on a pile of confusion praying for the answer to that simple question… “Where’s North?”

If there was just a glimpse of light, a twinkle of a star, a rudimentary clue, you could find your way out of the woods. Until that moment arrives, you wait and heighten your attention in hopes of finding out sooner than later.

The mind of a man has plans, but they are nothing without God’s direction (Proverbs 16:9). He is North. Your plans are well made, but they’re in a jungle of questions and uncertainty.

Find North first. The rest of your journey will make sense as you walk.

What forest have you been wandering in lately? When’s the last time you were still enough to hear where North is?

May 14, 2016 0

Treasured & Protected – Part II

Remember that wooden heart?

Well, that’s still yours… but this time, let’s go deeper. Within its fibers.

Each grain shares a story of the tree’s life. It unfolds to us the magnitude of pain and growth it has experienced upon its time of death. A scroll of agricultural history is that tree and so are we.

If we are made from the dirt of the ground and formed into the human intellects that create computers, trains, and automobiles, then we are a form of seed as well… Recording experiences and downloading data to make our way through this world. While this sounds fascinating, it can be just as damaging when we have recordings that we should have let go.

Perhaps what you treasure is not valuable. Pain. Victimization. Power. Possessions. Drug-altered consciousness. Whatever it is, you hold it dear and God forbid anyone tries to take it away from you. If this happens, you won’t feel free at first; you’ll feel naked. It has clothed you for so many years that it feels like skin. Warm, soft, and cozy. It’s part of you, embedded in your fibers and deeply recorded for all the world to see and hear through your actions. You lash out like a fiercely protective animal… coddling your treasure and its surrounding space. Come too close and you’ll attack the Hand that tries to liberate you.

Your money facilitates its order in your life and you constantly feed its mouth. It is treasured and you’re addicted to keeping it alive.

My heart can’t take that type of symbiotic torture. I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to become that tree that looks like a heart. The rings of my experiences are still there, but I don’t have to treasure my pain. It is not my badge of honor. My victory is.

What is in your heart that needs to be evacuated?
What are you protecting that shouldn’t be treasured?

Do some digging through your fibers and see what you find.

Peace & Thanks for listening!

April 27, 2016 0

Treasured & Protected

PhotoGrid_1461550413068 Anything that is treasured must be protected.

Think about it.

The White House. Diamonds. Museum artifacts. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy them. They are protected to prevent abuse and to preserve their value. Their boundaries reduce the risk of them being abused and destroyed.

The wooden heart pictured here is just as fragile as we are. We appear fortified and impenetrable on the outside, but the reality is all it takes is a little fire and water to warp our behavior toward a situation.

God’s Love protects us. We are His treasured beings. His Son’s blood was used to redeem us, and it is also designed to protect us. It shields us from all hurt, harm, and danger that we cannot see. Does that mean we will not hurt? No.

Even museum artifacts must be taken from their protective cases to be cleaned and preserved so they can last longer.

So it is with us. Our hedge of protection is made pliable for a moment to strengthen us through an experience. That seems unfair, but consider the following: God knows that if we are to truly learn, we must experience. If all it took was our Father to tell us everything, there would be less hardship and hardheadedness. We can’t be trusted to simply take heed because we usually don’t do so. The lasting impression needed for growth is experience. God knows that. Your parents and teachers knew that. Even your manager knows that; otherwise, why ask for a resume and references? Experience matters… and there’s no way around it.

Secondly, one could say that the heart is the most fragile thing. Why would we hide the Word there and not in our minds? Because we protect our hearts more than our minds. Just think of all the things you saw or heard that were impure today or this week. Our eyes and ears are inlets to the heart, but the heart is the inner sanctuary of the soul. It has its own guard… Peace.

Peace protects us from the contamination of life. It causes us to remain fortified when the world is crumbling.

Thirdly, there is peace in saying “yes” and “no.” There is peace in stillness and in a joyous moment with others. Peace is not easily broken, but it can be relieved of its duties if you give the orders. Where the mind rationalizes, the heart leads. If it doesn’t “feel” right in the heart, we move forward in the mind. Decisions are rescinded often because the heart doors not agree. God knows the heart is where it’s at! David screwed up so many times, but God cherished his repentance and praise because of his heart.

What does your heart treasure? What’s in it and why is it there?
Is it worth protecting? Is your Peace on duty?

Peace & Thanks for listening!

April 24, 2016 2

Listening at the Speed of Life

– by C. J. Wade –

Category

Super Woman

Independence Today!

Be Great or Go Home.

No, thanks. I’m watching my Father-Figure…

Open, Mopin’, Chopin

Happy Memorial Day?

Good Day, Good People!

Where’s North?

Treasured & Protected – Part II

Treasured & Protected

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– by C. J. Wade –

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