Replacing why me with yes me

Remembering to give thanks for answers to prayers. For answers to directions. For answers to questions to the Universe. Remembering to take the time to reflect. To be still. To empty my mind of asking.

Sometimes I spend my days asking, seeking, testing, pleading. Questioning why me? Questioning why life seems so easy for others but an uphill battle for me.

Last night I sat on the edge of my bed and reflected about my life. About the prayers I have whispered to the Universe. About the questions I have asked over and over again. About where I am heading in my life. About why I am not getting the answers that I need. About why I feel like my path is being obscured from me. I questioned why truth was being hidden from me?

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Without trying to direct it. Without trying to interfere with the path it wanted to take. Without question. And I realised I have been blessed with so many gifts and treasures from the Universe already. I held my head low and felt shame run through me. Shame because I have been so focused on what I want that I have forgotten what I already have and what I have already been given.

I thought about situations I believed I was not strong enough to handle. And how well I had handled them. About people that have come into my life to challenge me. Irritate me . And how well I had handled them. Of how with each challenge I learned a little more about myself and others. And then I realised that instead of uttering why me, I will start saying yes me. I will deal with the challenges head on in the best way I know how. Because only then will I see the blessings, gifts and treasures in everything and everyone that comes before me.

And I felt the shame be replaced with a full heart. A grateful heart. A loving heart. And I felt an intense gratitude for my life.  For every encounter.  Every person. Because they are the answers I am seeking. The response to my pleadings.  They are my truth.

So I have decided that instead of praying and pleading for answers, I will try instead to say thank you over and over again. To give myself some time to see the daily gifts and treasures that are bestowed upon me by the Universe.  To shift my energy so that I can feel the true essence of the spirit flow through me.

Because as Louie Hay says, “Life is really very simple. What I give out, I get back. What I believe becomes true for me.”
And for learning to embrace the power of gratitude, the power of intention, the power of  introspection, and the power of reflection I am truly grateful.

Even the most beautiful rose has thorns

May 23, 1976, I am standing at the patio screen door. Looking out at my brothers and my uncle playing cards. Laughing. Joking around. Wondering how they can even play cards. How they can even laugh when we will be going to bury my mother. Our mother, His sister. Very shortly.

I look down at the dress I am wearing. The black dress that makes me look so grown up. The black dress that under different circumstances I would have been proud to be wearing. The black dress that is very similar to my beautiful sister’s dress. And I feel guilty for feeling like I look good.

How am I supposed to feel when very shortly we will be putting my mother in the ground. Throwing soil over her then sealing her body in cement. Never to be seen again. I am standing at the door looking at them. Trying to see them. Trying to understand why. Trying to take it all in.

And then I see hidden behind their laughter and playing cards is fear. They are trying to distract themselves. To take their mind off what we are about to do. I feel better somehow but worried too. If adults can’t fix everything, who can?

What are we meant to do when the lights of our dreams are turned out? What happens when the path we thought we were on is suddenly covered in thorns? Threatening to rip us apart with every step we take. What happens when we feel guilty about every breath we take wishing we could breathe no more? What happens when we question who we are and why we are here? What happens then?

That was 36 years ago and that memory is imprinted on my mind. May 23, 2012, what I realise is that it is not a bad memory but a memory that lets me remember that no matter how bad I think it is. No matter how confusing I think it is. No matter how dark the day may seem. And how afraid I am. The path is always there. Always waiting for me. Willing me to move. Challenging me to dig deep and to keep stepping forward. To keep walking into the unknown. To not stop because even in the darkest hour we are being a gift. And it is up to all of us to continue and to remember, even the most beautiful rose has thorns.

Transcending the ego

I left my house yesterday morning flush with confidence and purpose. Ready to take on the world and everything that came my way because I had spent a glorious weekend indulging me. Listening to my inner voice. Doing nothing when I felt like doing nothing. Completely stepping out of the box and accepting that sometimes it’s okay to be rather than doing.

I felt after reading Deepak Chopra’s words in the O magazine that I had conquered my ego issues and was able to deal with anger, feelings of displacement, jealousy , etc,. Wrong. As my Spiritual Mother always says be careful what you ask for. Or be careful what you project to the Universe

Every test that could come my way yesterday came my way. To see if I could contain my anger. To see if I could detach myself from my ego. And it was really difficult to do so at first. It was really hard not to jump into the fray. To show my claws. To be as aggressive as those who were aggressive with me. But I did it and I have to admit it felt really strange. I felt like I was having an out of body experience with each test. I felt like I was physically detaching from the confrontations I found myself in and was looking at myself and the others engaged in battle from a place outside of myself. Their voices were muted. Their expressions animated. Even tormented.

During each encounter I felt like I was being cowardly because I did not jump in to defend myself. I felt like I was letting people walk all over me. Because I did not combine my energy with theirs. But then once each confrontation passed, I felt good about not getting angry. Not adding fuel to the fire.  And then I realised I was being tested. And once I did, my awareness grew and each confrontation thereafter became easier to let go.

What I realised was once I recognised I was being tested, I dropped the need to be feel superior. To exert my influence. I recognised it was better if I did not try to extinguish my ego but to transcend it instead. And what I realised most is with each ego derived response to the tests, I was tested again and again. Because the Universe is constantly sending us what we need to become the best we can be. The most compassionate we can be. Here’s to another day. May I continue to transcend my ego. May I continue to recognise that I cannot take myself too seriously because once I do, tests arrive to show me I am just as vulnerable as the next person.

In the place of uncertainty therein lies creativity and purpose

Yesterday morning instead of jumping out of bed, I closed my eyes for a minute and just let the silence come back in. And I listened to it. Heard it. Allowing me to realise that if I was going to get out of bed and enjoy the day with my family I had to stay in the moment. I had to not think of anything beyond the moment of time I was in. And as long as I did, I would see that everything is as it is meant to be. I am where I am meant to be. I can’t go back and change what happened the moment before and I can’t move ahead and change what is to happen in the future.

I got out of bed and read a quote from Deepak Chopra in the O magazine, “...if you get the idea that this is the moment you have- the only moment you have – then you live in the present and you move with the flow because this is the point, right now. ...I embrace the wisdom of uncertainty, because if everything is certain, where is the creativity?”

And then I breathed because I remembered from deep within my core. This is the only moment I have. I got on with my day enjoying every moment of it for what it brought me. Walking along the beach with my family. Looking out at the horizon feeling the possibility that exists even in the midst of haze. Listening to the sound of the ocean. Watching my children jumping off the rocks. Walking side by side with my man. Inhaling the fresh air. Savouring the moment. Not thinking about the second before. The minute before. The hour before. The day before. Not trying to capture the second to come. The minute to come. The hour to come. Or tomorrow.

Knowing that the moment I was in was all I had. Feeling gratitude flowing through me. Releasing the tension. Releasing the frustration. Releasing the desire to correct what I cannot. Enjoying the feel of my energy shifting. Embracing the feelings of  possibility, love, life and purpose.  

Coming back from our walk. Feeling flushed with purpose. To just be in the moment. Baking cookies with my daughter. Cooking my family a meal. Ending our family day with the four of us tightly packed in our queen size bed watching the movie,  Hugo. Receiving even more unexpected gifts from the Universe from the movie.

 Hearing the little boy Hugo say, Machinery has no extra parts. Each part is necessary for it to work. Telling his friend he knew he was not an extra part and he knew she was not an extra part so he knew he had to be here for something as he knew she was. Allowing me to remember I am here for a purpose too. I am not a spare part but a vital part. Remembering we each add a part to the machinery we call life and we are all here for a purpose.

That’s how we ended our family day together, the four of us lying on our bed watching Hugo understand that without purpose we are broken. Reminding me it is up to me to find and live my purpose even on those days when I wake up in a haze. Because it is those days that allow me to seek my truth. To be my truth and to understand that I am the truth because I am all that I am.

And that rather than resisting uncertainty, I shall embrace its wisdom because only then will my creativity flow allowing me to capture and live my life’s purpose.

The Power of a Woman Circle

Last night I had a wonderful unplanned night. Everything I had planned cancelled at the last minute. Leaving me the time to go to a friend’s house, between dropping off and picking up children, to hang out with a group of women. 12 of us. Diversified in our own right. From Bermuda. Ireland. Canada. England. Switzerland. America. All together sharing a common bond of womanhood. Sisterhood.

Exchanging stories ranging from books, to breasts, to love, to desires. To tattoos. To men. To menopause. That’s the beauty of a woman circle. Nothing is off limits. Nothing is out of bounds. We share when the energy is right. We affirm each other. Let each other know we are okay. We are not alone.

Drinking wine. Eating food. No one outdoing the other. Each woman bringing her own story. Sharing as much of herself as she could and wanted to.

Laughing. Talking. No boundaries. No borders. Different cultures. All of us in our late forties and up. Reminiscing about life. No one judging. Some of us strangers at first. But by the end we were hugging each other like we were long lost friends.

The differences between us blurring with the commonality of womanhood. Humankind. Of the fact that no matter where we come from we are all the same at the core. With the common quest for a sense of belonging. Of understanding.  Of love.

A wonderful end to what began as a sad day. I felt my mother watching over me. Through the eyes of every woman that was there. Surrounding me. Embracing me with that womanly love. That love that can be so strong. Full of compassion when we allow it to flow naturally.

Then towards the end, a teenage daughter of one of the women came out to join in our circle of women. Snapping photos of us randomly. Capturing the spirit of the moment. The essence of the woman spirit. I looked across at the young lady hoping she will do as we women were doing, continue the circle of women. Passing the energy around. Giving each other something special, filling each other’s well.

And then the night was over for me as I had to rush off to pick up my son. Filled to the brim with the love, compassion and sharing of 12 women who had sat around in a circle passing the talking stick from one to the other. Giving each other the strength and confidence to be.

To my friend who organised it and brought us together. Women from all walks of life Women from different cultures. Women from different beliefs. Reminding us we are all the same no matter where we come from. Thank you.

An Indescribable Pain gives me wings

May 18, 1976, I am standing on the hill hanging out with my friends. I see my da’s car snaking slowly down the hill. A chill runs through me. No matter how hard I try I can’t pull my eyes away from the car. My friends are shouting and playing around behind me. Having a good time. I feel like they are in a different dimension to me. Though I can hear them, I feel like they are far away. Muted sounds. Something deep within my core is chilled. It is only when the car moves out of my sight that I snap out of the trance. I shake my body. Hug myself. Letting the coldness seep out. I turn and go running back to my friends. Shaking the feelings of dread. Pushing them to the back of my mind.

A few hours later just before dusk, my brother comes looking for me. I know instantly when I see his face that something is wrong. Once again that feeling creeps back in.

“You need to come home,” he says.

“No, I’m having fun,” I answer.

“You need to come home now,” he says again, not smiling. Demanding.

I don’t want to go. I want to stay where I am. It feels safer here. But I go. He walks in front of me. Not speaking. Not looking at me. He disappears in the house before me. Leaves the door ajar behind him. I hear voices. Strange voices. My heart races. I walk through the kitchen door slowly. I feel like I am going to suffocate. The air is so thick. There are people here. People that aren’t usually here. And then I hear my sister say to someone on the phone, “She’s gone.”

I look at her. I look round the kitchen. And I know because I can’t breathe. I know because deep in my core something has broken. Died. I know and I scream, “Who’s gone? Who’s gone?” Over and over again. Like a broken record. Trying to drown out the news.

They stare at me. They don’t know what to say. A tear rolls down my sister’s face. I start to shake. I can’t breathe. I look from face to face. Then my little brother runs into the room. His little face broken. “Mama’s dead!” he cries. “Mama’s dead.” Like a broken record. Like a startled child.

And then I hear a piercing scream. And then I feel my body retch. And then I feel arms around me. Guiding me. Trying to protect me. And then I realise the scream is mine. The pain is mine. And I can’t stop it. They can’t stop it. No one can.

My worst nightmare has come true. My best friend. The love of my life. My mama is gone. Dead. Just like that. No goodbye. Nothing. Just disappeared. Gone. I feel like I have broken into a trillion, bazillion tiny little fragile pieces and I scream some more.

May 18, 2012 and I still feel the pain I felt when I heard the news. When my life changed unexpectedly. Instantly. And without warning. Some 36years later I still feel like that 13 year old girl when I first wake up. It happens every May 18. Some years worse than others. Some years better than others. But now I understand that pain. I know that pain has given me the wings to be who I am. That pain allowed me to grow in ways I would never have dreamed possible before. That pain taught me forgiveness, compassion, empathy and love. And that pain comes every year to remind me.

May 18 is always a sad day for me but also a day for me to recollect from whence I have come. To be grateful for the time I had with my mother. To be grateful for all her life and death has taught me. And continues to teach me.

May 18 a day of reverence for me. Rest in peace mama. I will always love you. And thank you for teaching me “I wasn’t built to break."

Writing from a place of Honesty and Authenticity

The blog I wrote yesterday about being in the mud evoked strong emotions from people who read it. The feedback I got from it was amazing. Simply because I was speaking my truth.

One of my friends told me she admires my honesty, authenticity, and my willingness to share.  She said some people will never be able to be as self-reflective and aware as I am. Making me realise this is why I write.

I then decided to watch the BET awards last night. I wasn’t sure why but I felt compelled to watch it even though I had DVRed it ages ago. But last night I wanted to see Dr. Maya Angelou being awarded for her contribution to Literacy. And once again I knew I was being delivered a message from the Universe when Dr. Angelou said in her Thank You speech, “I write the Human Truth.... I come as 1 but I stand as 10,000. ...What you learn, teach. What you get, give.”

Tears rolled down my face. Chills ran up and down my spine. As I understood why I write. I understood why I am here and why each and every day I feel compelled to give through my writing and it is because I have been given this gift of writing to share. To write my human truth as Dr. Angelou does. To share my life experiences and lessons honestly, openly and authentically in the best way I know how. By writing. To help myself to grow and in the process to help those who follow me to grow as well. By writing from a place of compassion, empathy and understanding. From a place of honesty and authenticity. From a place of truth and seeking.

To know that though each of us may come as one, each of us stands together with shared experiences reaching back through the human experience. Passed down from generation to generation. Evoking feelings, memories and hope within us that we forget we have. Instilling the desire within us to live authentic lives because we have the blood, sweat and tears of those who have gone before us, who paved the way for us, to be where we are today as a part of our DNA.

We are not alone. We are never alone. Because each and every one of us has the spirit of the human consciousness as our guide if we are willing to listen to it, honour it, and be grateful for it.

Many question why I write and if I am afraid of what people will say. And sometimes I do question why I write. Sometimes I do question what people will say. But now I remember why I write, through one of the greatest connectors of our time, Dr. Maya Angelou. I write because I write my Human Truth. The Human Truth.
Thank you Dr. Angelou for knowing why the Caged Bird sings and giving writers like me the confidence to write and grow.