I have been terribly disconnected from those things that keep me spiritually grounded. My spiritual readings and routine practices have stalled considerably. Knowing that, it’s no surprised that I have been out of sorts in many ways. I haven’t really smiled much and I have misplaced what gives me joy, temporary or long term.
When your foundation is cracked, your house will fall apart. Admittedly, I have contributed greatly to the cracks and gaping holes in my foundation. The foundation of our being is our spirits and when neglected, it begins to affect everything else in our lives, from our bodies to our relationships. I have had countless headaches, irregular body aches, lethargy, high blood pressure, and plain old “notfeelinggoodness.” In addition I broke up with my girlfriend of almost three years whom I still love.
2009 has been quite a year, and I have done everything except water, build and sustain my foundation. I’ve made so many rational and logical decisions without considering the spiritual implications, that I was completely void fulfillment. I’ve done a lot of consuming myself with the woes of others and incubating my own demons and problems—deflecting.
My internal warfare is strictly spiritual and this year has proven that as with anything, neglect leads to bad things. So my plan is to enjoy the remainder of the year, even if the first half of it was more than I wanted to take. I am alive and I am fully capable. I am taking a step back from worrying, and dragging such a heavy heart. I could easily give into sadness, hell, I have the right and space to be, but as bad things are born, so are those things that are pleasurable and good.
This too shall pass.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Give Yourself Some Breathing Room
I’ve been pretty reluctant to write. I’ve been combating some personal challenges which have kept my mind pretty occupied, and this always leads to a long pause in writing.
If you continue to do what you always did, you will always get what you always got. Now, whether that sentence makes good grammatical sense, means nothing to me, but the weight of its meaning is what has been driving me these past few weeks.
It’s funny, when I transition into a new stage in my life I am often too empathetic to my old self. It has caused me many problems because I develop a debilitating reluctance to move forward on my path. My compassion for others about how my personal decisions will affect them, has kept me tied up in knots. I preach about the beauty of selfishness, but often submerge myself recklessly in the overabundance of selflessness. It doesn’t feel as humble and righteous as it sounds. Most times it can be down right tiring.
My frustration is always about losing balance in my life. There is room for selfishness, there has to be, but equally there has to be room for selflessness, and the challenge is finding balance between the two.
Life is extremely short in the grand scheme of things, as someone poignantly pointed out to me last week. For all we know this is the only life we have. Growing old is a blessing, not a guarantee. Our personal lives do directly and indirectly affect the lives of others, but we can’t live for other people. We can’t make other people happy, and we can’t continue to empathize the goodness in others if it adversely affects our own goals and desires.
A happy world consists of happy individuals. If we took the time to feed our own happiness as diligently as we cater to the happiness of others, I could imagine how much more beautiful the world would look. The airlines are right, secure your own oxygen mask, before giving someone else air.
If you continue to do what you always did, you will always get what you always got. Now, whether that sentence makes good grammatical sense, means nothing to me, but the weight of its meaning is what has been driving me these past few weeks.
It’s funny, when I transition into a new stage in my life I am often too empathetic to my old self. It has caused me many problems because I develop a debilitating reluctance to move forward on my path. My compassion for others about how my personal decisions will affect them, has kept me tied up in knots. I preach about the beauty of selfishness, but often submerge myself recklessly in the overabundance of selflessness. It doesn’t feel as humble and righteous as it sounds. Most times it can be down right tiring.
My frustration is always about losing balance in my life. There is room for selfishness, there has to be, but equally there has to be room for selflessness, and the challenge is finding balance between the two.
Life is extremely short in the grand scheme of things, as someone poignantly pointed out to me last week. For all we know this is the only life we have. Growing old is a blessing, not a guarantee. Our personal lives do directly and indirectly affect the lives of others, but we can’t live for other people. We can’t make other people happy, and we can’t continue to empathize the goodness in others if it adversely affects our own goals and desires.
A happy world consists of happy individuals. If we took the time to feed our own happiness as diligently as we cater to the happiness of others, I could imagine how much more beautiful the world would look. The airlines are right, secure your own oxygen mask, before giving someone else air.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The Formula
You do know a little Rocket science
With your calculated smiles and quick glances.
This is an irregular opportunity
Opportunities have never been narrow or convenient though,
So you’re excused to take some more time to decode.
This formula is a mixture of pleasurable sins and sacred considerations.
This pause is not for your loyalty or my yielding.
We know the answers
Even if we are not ready to reveal them.
I do know a little math.
Why I smile about thin air and these light thoughts
That multiply evenly into my want.
I understand the division in this space is necessary
If there is to be any kind of remainder
Any kind of sustain.
C.L. Jones
With your calculated smiles and quick glances.
This is an irregular opportunity
Opportunities have never been narrow or convenient though,
So you’re excused to take some more time to decode.
This formula is a mixture of pleasurable sins and sacred considerations.
This pause is not for your loyalty or my yielding.
We know the answers
Even if we are not ready to reveal them.
I do know a little math.
Why I smile about thin air and these light thoughts
That multiply evenly into my want.
I understand the division in this space is necessary
If there is to be any kind of remainder
Any kind of sustain.
C.L. Jones
Good Mourning music.
In the mornings I find music. Since I arrive to work so early, I need some kind of motivation to get my wheels turning. I find a lot of old music, and today I am completely feeling this. This is so relevant to me right now that I had to share.
On the flip, I found this in my horoscope:
"you should not resist change just because of nostalgia or loyalty to the way things were."
Enjoy the Vid.
Peace.
On the flip, I found this in my horoscope:
"you should not resist change just because of nostalgia or loyalty to the way things were."
Enjoy the Vid.
Peace.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Purpose Of A Vigil
I attended a vigil for the 11 black women who were found dead on Imperial in Cleveland this past Friday. I, like many who came out that night, wanted to pay homage to these women and show support to these families, some who have yet to discover whether their daughter, sister or mother was discovered. The circumstances are gruesome and tragic and have left this community visibly baffled, angry and sad.
Considering the situation, you would think that those who were invited to speak at the vigil would use their time to comfort the families and support the community. I was disappointed when a couple of people such as Basheer Jones and a representative from the Mayor’s office used their time to charge the community with a role in this tragedy. A vigil is not the time to address the complicated and compound issues facing the black community. It is certainly not the place to rant about what the community could have done differently. Those kinds of conversations should be reserved for a town hall meeting or community panel. It was insensitive and inexcusable for anyone to fix their lips and charge that community with any wrongdoing whether justified or not. From my understanding, and proven from the many missing fliers stapled to the makeshift memorial on Imperial, most of these women were reported missing. Furthermore, most of these women lived not only in this neighborhood, but within a short distance of Anthony Sowell. Instead of the mayor’s office pontificating about the many hours they have to put in on a daily basis, they should have sent a representative that could have done a better job at finding encouraging words instead of becoming defensive about the clear irresponsibility of the Cleveland police department. The ball was dropped.
I know I am echoing the sentiments of many people, but this could have never happened in Beachwood. Two women missing from the same neighborhood would have raised a brow. We would have been privy to it locally and nationally, like we often are. So it should not be difficult to empathize with the tears and anger of a community that has been silently terrorized by a convicted rapist and serial killer. What exactly was the community supposed to do differently anyway? They did their due diligence in reporting their loved ones missing, looking for them and reporting a smell that they could not have known were the rotting bodies of their loved ones.
I get so sick and tired of black communities having to do extra shit in order to feel and be protected. Why should we have to patrol our own neighborhoods? How come we have to do so much more when affluent and/or white communities are afforded more than adequate protection and consideration? It is as much of a class issue as it is a race issue. Cleveland has proven that poor lives don’t matter and black lives don’t matter, so it’s really no surprise that these precious lives were looked over.
I’ll be addressing this again in the coming weeks. I don’t want to muddy this with too much rhetoric. I think we should pray for these families and for this community; they need it.
Considering the situation, you would think that those who were invited to speak at the vigil would use their time to comfort the families and support the community. I was disappointed when a couple of people such as Basheer Jones and a representative from the Mayor’s office used their time to charge the community with a role in this tragedy. A vigil is not the time to address the complicated and compound issues facing the black community. It is certainly not the place to rant about what the community could have done differently. Those kinds of conversations should be reserved for a town hall meeting or community panel. It was insensitive and inexcusable for anyone to fix their lips and charge that community with any wrongdoing whether justified or not. From my understanding, and proven from the many missing fliers stapled to the makeshift memorial on Imperial, most of these women were reported missing. Furthermore, most of these women lived not only in this neighborhood, but within a short distance of Anthony Sowell. Instead of the mayor’s office pontificating about the many hours they have to put in on a daily basis, they should have sent a representative that could have done a better job at finding encouraging words instead of becoming defensive about the clear irresponsibility of the Cleveland police department. The ball was dropped.
I know I am echoing the sentiments of many people, but this could have never happened in Beachwood. Two women missing from the same neighborhood would have raised a brow. We would have been privy to it locally and nationally, like we often are. So it should not be difficult to empathize with the tears and anger of a community that has been silently terrorized by a convicted rapist and serial killer. What exactly was the community supposed to do differently anyway? They did their due diligence in reporting their loved ones missing, looking for them and reporting a smell that they could not have known were the rotting bodies of their loved ones.
I get so sick and tired of black communities having to do extra shit in order to feel and be protected. Why should we have to patrol our own neighborhoods? How come we have to do so much more when affluent and/or white communities are afforded more than adequate protection and consideration? It is as much of a class issue as it is a race issue. Cleveland has proven that poor lives don’t matter and black lives don’t matter, so it’s really no surprise that these precious lives were looked over.
I’ll be addressing this again in the coming weeks. I don’t want to muddy this with too much rhetoric. I think we should pray for these families and for this community; they need it.
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Morehouse Dress Code: Did They Get It Right?
I am sure there has been commentary concerning this that is a little more investigative and thoughtful, but here is my best stab.
I’ve never felt more classy, dignified or responsible when I used to wear dresses and skirts. In catholic school, wearing a uniform didn’t make me any less rambunctious nor did it make me
more focused. Nonetheless, I can understand that there is some value in dress codes, especially in grammar school and in high school. We know that when we interview for a job, it is to our advantage to wear clothing categorized as “professional.” In this society, your outward appearance is the stick you will be measured by. With that said, I absolutely think it is important for young people to understand the very narrow standards they are up against once they move forward in their lives.
Given all of that, I can, in a very logical way understand enforcement of a dress code at Morehouse College. Let’s keep in mind that Morehouse is a private institution and they will always reserve the right to create rules which reflect the image they are trying to uphold. That’s fine. But we need to be honest about the new rules being not only homophobic, but homo-biased. Let’s call a spade a spade. Besides, Dr William Bynum solidifies the assertion, “We are talking about five students who are living a gay lifestyle that is leading them to dress a way we do not expect in Morehouse men.” The infamous new rule I am referring to goes a little something like this: No wearing of clothing associated with women’s garb (dresses, tops, tunics, purses, pumps, etc.) on the Morehouse
or at college-sponsored events.
This is attack on identity and not about decorum, there are no two ways about it. We can celebrate this as black men standing up and being black men, but I see it as just another case of black folks getting sexual orientation and gender identification wrong—again.
I don’t wear heels, don’t own a dress. I buy all of my clothes in the men’s section of any store, and nothing on my feet says anything feminine. I hate purses, and I have a walk so cool George Jefferson would have to give it up to me, but I am very much a woman. I am very much a lesbian. I am intelligent, I have good character, I am very spiritual, and I am an overall well rounded person. The hetero-normative formula doesn’t work for me; it never did. It doesn’t work for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean they are not men or women, and we need to stop acting like it does.
I’ve never felt more classy, dignified or responsible when I used to wear dresses and skirts. In catholic school, wearing a uniform didn’t make me any less rambunctious nor did it make me
more focused. Nonetheless, I can understand that there is some value in dress codes, especially in grammar school and in high school. We know that when we interview for a job, it is to our advantage to wear clothing categorized as “professional.” In this society, your outward appearance is the stick you will be measured by. With that said, I absolutely think it is important for young people to understand the very narrow standards they are up against once they move forward in their lives.Given all of that, I can, in a very logical way understand enforcement of a dress code at Morehouse College. Let’s keep in mind that Morehouse is a private institution and they will always reserve the right to create rules which reflect the image they are trying to uphold. That’s fine. But we need to be honest about the new rules being not only homophobic, but homo-biased. Let’s call a spade a spade. Besides, Dr William Bynum solidifies the assertion, “We are talking about five students who are living a gay lifestyle that is leading them to dress a way we do not expect in Morehouse men.” The infamous new rule I am referring to goes a little something like this: No wearing of clothing associated with women’s garb (dresses, tops, tunics, purses, pumps, etc.) on the Morehouse
or at college-sponsored events.
This is attack on identity and not about decorum, there are no two ways about it. We can celebrate this as black men standing up and being black men, but I see it as just another case of black folks getting sexual orientation and gender identification wrong—again.
I don’t wear heels, don’t own a dress. I buy all of my clothes in the men’s section of any store, and nothing on my feet says anything feminine. I hate purses, and I have a walk so cool George Jefferson would have to give it up to me, but I am very much a woman. I am very much a lesbian. I am intelligent, I have good character, I am very spiritual, and I am an overall well rounded person. The hetero-normative formula doesn’t work for me; it never did. It doesn’t work for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean they are not men or women, and we need to stop acting like it does.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Ironing Out The Kinks
I sat in on a bible study today. It was really nothing more than an analysis of homosexuality, why it is wrong and why the greater society has accepted it. It was a Christian bible study, so I kind of knew what was going to be said.
Earlier this week I said I’d love to sit down and talk with Black Christian leaders on the subject of homosexuality. I’ve changed my mind. I still believe they influence the greater black community, but I am not for censorship and I believe they have a right to speak for or against what they hold to be true. I do see ignorance there and unfortunately I don’t think there is much that can be done to shake it. Too many misinterpreted bible scriptures are quoted. I found the leader of the bible study was completely oblivious to what homosexuality is, and in his own
understanding of god, believes it is the act that constitutes the sin, not the thought. So if you are a homosexual, according to his understanding of what god wants, you can have fantasies about homosexual sex, just as long as you don’t engage. If you follow that simple rule, heaven will be waiting for you.
I don’t believe homosexuality is a sin. I don’t believe I have a demon inside of me. I don’t believe I have a mental disorder. I don’t believe any of that bullshit. The most important lesson I learned from this bible study is that churches have a right to believe what they believe, and you can’t stop them.
As I mentioned before, as homosexuals who know better than to think that we can be delivered from this “lifestyle,” we need to stop seeking out these churches as pillars of our spirituality. I welcome people to read the bible, but I also welcome people to read the history that goes along with the bible. People pick and choose what scriptures mean what to fit whatever agenda or belief they have. Certain words are taken at face value and others are not. That’s how it has always been and it will continue to be.
I love Christians. I was raised in a Christian home and lived honestly by a Christian doctrine up until college. I remember when I was a freshman at Kent, I asked god to take away these feelings; it never happened. Then I began reading the bible, and reading things for myself, and then one day I just said, no more. I was living in this depressing, unhappy bubble. My friends were going on dates, had boyfriends and I didn’t have any companionship. More than anything I got tired of pretending and lying to folks, especially myself about my sexual orientation. But more importantly I was like, who is this god that hates? Who is this god that would take his creation and destroy it, cast it into hell fire? It stopped making even spiritual sense to me.
I love gay people, and my heart goes out to those who feel who they are is wrong. It is, I know, the worst feeling in the world, and so many of us are driven into closets and out of our minds based upon what other folks think and what they TELL you god will do to you.
Know that god is love. Let’s continue to surround ourselves with each other and with love. Christians are going to tell you you’re wrong, and that’s ok, because that is what they believe, and they are free to believe it.
I know I am echoing this, but let’s love our Christian folk, but let’s not support them if they are not going to support us, and let us not be fooled into thinking their support equals our deliverance. We can’t control what they do, but we can control what we do.
Earlier this week I said I’d love to sit down and talk with Black Christian leaders on the subject of homosexuality. I’ve changed my mind. I still believe they influence the greater black community, but I am not for censorship and I believe they have a right to speak for or against what they hold to be true. I do see ignorance there and unfortunately I don’t think there is much that can be done to shake it. Too many misinterpreted bible scriptures are quoted. I found the leader of the bible study was completely oblivious to what homosexuality is, and in his own
understanding of god, believes it is the act that constitutes the sin, not the thought. So if you are a homosexual, according to his understanding of what god wants, you can have fantasies about homosexual sex, just as long as you don’t engage. If you follow that simple rule, heaven will be waiting for you.I don’t believe homosexuality is a sin. I don’t believe I have a demon inside of me. I don’t believe I have a mental disorder. I don’t believe any of that bullshit. The most important lesson I learned from this bible study is that churches have a right to believe what they believe, and you can’t stop them.
As I mentioned before, as homosexuals who know better than to think that we can be delivered from this “lifestyle,” we need to stop seeking out these churches as pillars of our spirituality. I welcome people to read the bible, but I also welcome people to read the history that goes along with the bible. People pick and choose what scriptures mean what to fit whatever agenda or belief they have. Certain words are taken at face value and others are not. That’s how it has always been and it will continue to be.
I love Christians. I was raised in a Christian home and lived honestly by a Christian doctrine up until college. I remember when I was a freshman at Kent, I asked god to take away these feelings; it never happened. Then I began reading the bible, and reading things for myself, and then one day I just said, no more. I was living in this depressing, unhappy bubble. My friends were going on dates, had boyfriends and I didn’t have any companionship. More than anything I got tired of pretending and lying to folks, especially myself about my sexual orientation. But more importantly I was like, who is this god that hates? Who is this god that would take his creation and destroy it, cast it into hell fire? It stopped making even spiritual sense to me.
I love gay people, and my heart goes out to those who feel who they are is wrong. It is, I know, the worst feeling in the world, and so many of us are driven into closets and out of our minds based upon what other folks think and what they TELL you god will do to you.
Know that god is love. Let’s continue to surround ourselves with each other and with love. Christians are going to tell you you’re wrong, and that’s ok, because that is what they believe, and they are free to believe it.
I know I am echoing this, but let’s love our Christian folk, but let’s not support them if they are not going to support us, and let us not be fooled into thinking their support equals our deliverance. We can’t control what they do, but we can control what we do.
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