I feel like writing

Its funny that I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m just going to begin typing and see what comes out.

Dance. I joined a contemporary class and its challenging. If I walk into class with heaviness in my heart it shows up in my movements and in my patience with my progress. Last class I was pissed. The instructor was moving too fast and I didn’t remember much as I was expected to run through with a group of two- the other two in my line.

I was irritated. I didn’t remember. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready and I hadn’t mastered these moves, so why on Earth would I want to “run through it with my line”? I struggled through after two suggestions to “feel the movement” and do what I could remember. Still sounds absurd, but I’m trying to apply that to life.

 

  1. Feel- be in the moment.
  2. Cast off the concern of perfection.

Story.

Of.

My.

Life.

 

One day I’ll get there. I’ll dance like no one is watching. Like the steps are mine to create. Like each movement is perfect without rehearsal. And until then…I’ll check the mirror but look at it less. More feeling, less thinking. More in the moment, less planning. More living, less analyzing my life.

Starting now.

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Hair

“You change your hair everyday”. False, but I understand that I do maximize the freedom and creativity my coils provide me with- I can switch thing us quickly. In fact, I’m headed to the states soon and I plan to purchase hair and stuff it in my luggage. Braiding hair, Marley twist hair, a latch hook, widely misrepresented as a “crochet hook”, and few hair ties, curl formers, and bobby pins. Whew! Thats a lot- I might need gel, too. We shall see.

Anyway…this post is a confession. A few days ago I resented and was ashamed of my natural hair:

it shrinks

it requires constant care

it falls out when “protective” styles are taken down- although I hear this is typical, it hurts my soul seeing the collection of coils looking like a lambs wool along my shower, counter, and sink.

I had to take out my last style a little early. I can’t have my fake hair looking nappier than my natural curls. So…I was faced with a decision, wig and switch (cause its hot) or natural hair. I focused on potential reactions and if my wig laying didn’t require braiding, which is time consuming and sometimes hurts AND my wigs weren’t blonde and black/red (hella bold), I probably would have rocked them. Instead, I did a wash and go and today a bomb twist out.

 

But thats only after contemplating:

dreads

weave

braids

cutting

and….wait for it…

RELAXING MY HAIR.

My coils LITERALLY WILL NOT stay straight enough to showcase my length and this makes me look and feel different than I want to. I look more less conventionally beautiful. No big hair to wear as a crown. I feel more naked and exposed, less masked and “protected”. I’m just being honest.

I named my hair some years ago and Shea has to be offended that I’ve spent more time with her clothes than with her. So she’s been free for a few days now and we are relearning one another. Last night twisting wasn’t so bad. And I found out she HAS grown, she’s ACTUALLY REALLY TALL…she just wears flats that hide her long legs. I am falling back in love with my coils one moisturized twist out at a time.

“You change your hair everyday”. No.

You Change. Your hair everyday.

 

Loveless

Love less

Love less

What a way to heal?! You’re saying for sanity sake I should love a little less. Give a little more sparingly. Pour out slowly. Look within and turn ever so gently.

Love less

Love less

God, I pray this doesn’t make me loveless.

Notarized.

I paused a Netflix movie to post this. So…you know its real.

Today, I scrambled to get documents notarized for my Work Visa. I’m about to leave the US in a matter of months to pursue a job abroad. I will be teaching 4th grade all subjects in Costa Rica! Excited is an understatement. I didn’t realize how much paperwork signing/applying/verifying would be required. I still don’t even understand if I sent everything perfectly. And being born abroad doesn’t make the process any simpler. Its confusing and annoying and very systematic even though no human being can explain the process considering my rare circumstances.

The notary at the bank (my shared branch because I still bank with an out of state credit union) did all my paperwork for free. He didn’t have to, but I am so appreciative. I saved $25. Then spent $20 for a document I forgot to have notarized by him and later paid for at a postal store that probably overcharged me.

Anyways…I sat at his desk and remembered the last time I had paperwork notarized at a bank. It was January of 2014. Divorce papers. I cried as I signed each page. I had gotten there at 4:59pm, right before closing after my ex kept asking when I would sign. He left me January 4th and the papers had January 10th on them. This had to be mid January. It was heartbreaking and I’m sure super awkward for the notary (a woman who kept her composure). I cried loud and deeply as I signed all thousand lines requiring my signature. I felt defeated. I was a little embarrassed. Not that I was crying- I needed that. I was embarrassed that my marriage had failed and this document was the proof.

So…as I sat in the office today. I almost cried again. Just in remembrance. Of a marriage I mourned and laid to rest. Divorce is a tragedy. I survived a tragedy. I overcame and rose above a tragedy. And 3 years later, I signed documents which I’d like to refer to as freedom papers. I’m leaving the US. I’m leaving (dis)comfort. I’m leaving what has been familiar. And I am so excited that now I understand the foreshadowing. At a bank alone. In an office with a stranger. Making a life changing written declaration. My life is changing.

I can never ever say I won’t survive. Or things won’t get better. Or I may not make it. Those statements are simply untrue. I will rise. I have been Notarized.

https://www.thebalance.com/what-is-a-notarized-document-315434

A notarized document is a document that has been marked with a stamp (or “seal”), which indicates that the signature on the document is legitimate. A notary watches you sign and then places the stamp near your signature (along with information which allows others to track down records related to the signature).

You Are Welcome

 

 

 

I am currently going in on this playlist on YouTube. Oh My Great God. You are Worthy Lord, forgive me for every wrong thing. Those I know and those I have yet to discover seek to separate me. God, I love God. I’ve been honest with my Creator. I don’t love Him enough or right or well. And He still pursues me and wins me with His love. Who am I that you are mindful of me. God I adore you, I praise you.

Sometimes you need a soundtrack for your day. This is mine. This whole playlist. Especially, Good Shepherd. I’m going in, which is so hard to do when you have a whole 9-5 that you should attend to. My kiddos came in on my soundtrack. We’ve been working and chillin’ all day. I am committed to give them what they want and what they need. They are great and mighty and well-equip with the talent to reach their purpose on the Earth. May my presence be a catalyst and not a hindrance. God, use me to empower them to be Great- like you.

I’m bout to cry. I always give people a warning. Not because it embarrasses me, but because not everyone is comfortable with pain and tears. Divorce made both very frequent and I’m comfortable with pain and tears. They wash me and purify me- cleanse the negative and make room for God to pour into me.

I realize what I crave more than a boyfriend, sex, good food, or even time with friends…is intimacy. For someone to know me completely, accept me fully, and love me unconditionally. That love may or may not come from a human second. It absolutely comes from Christ, first. Thank God for the opportunity to feel it and to be able to discern it. I have everything I desire and I need in Christ.

every. single. thing.

I imagine a love letter from God saying:

Dear child that I (alone) created and I (alone) love (fully),

I have everything you need.

You Are Welcome,

Daddy (God)

I can get it WHEREVER…and I should

This is about to be a 6 minute butt load of randomness. I am at work and this is not designated blog time. But I need to “journal” and this is my digital release.

 

I’ve been waking up tired and uninterested in beginning my day lately. I am not used to this. I went from waking up at 430am at the beginning of the year, to not getting sleep, to waking at 530 to a random 515 to now turning my alarm off and today staying in bed until 615 while I listened in on my 6am prayer call. Its taken me 53 days to figure out that I need to get consistent with my sleep and routines (especially before and after bed).

 

I can not do what I want when I want how I want because it causes a chain reaction of tired attitude needing pumpingupness. And I am not here for it. My family, friends, students, and I suffer when I don’t give myself what I know I need. Sleep. Rest. Time. Energy. God.

So, let me just get my life together on here:

Wednesday:

430: eye apt

530: gym (strong MAYBE) OR paper purge (more necessary…maybe I can do both)

My gym is too packed. It irritates me and to workout at my complex gym is a JOKE. I’ll get the paper together tonight and gym it up tomorrow (MAYBE).

700: eat

800 clean and bed prep (listening prayer, meditation, rest IN BED)

I got distracted and my time is up…

 

Oh and yesterday I did the hard work of letting someone I love know that our relationship is going to need to look differently because its what’s best for me and for him. I have NEVER done that in my own strength. I’ve always been abandoned or “forced” to let go. How freeing to make a conscious and mature decision to guard my heart and obey God. Freedom: absence of fear. I’ll let him go and if he doesn’t fly out of the cage I created for him, we may both be able to soar on the outside. “Let’s see what happens…”

Just say No

I love that word. To say it. To hear it (usually).

I don’t know why more people won’t just tell me no. Like instead of having things lingering and having me wait (I told y’all I struggle with patience). Say no, so I can move on.

 

No, I don’t like you.

No, I don’t EVER want to date you.

No, I won’t be there.

No, I can’t do that.

No, I don’t like this.

For Pete’s sake…whoever Pete is- say “NO”. And mean it. Close the door of confusion, and of indecision, and of back and forth minds, and blurry lines.

In the words of my old D.A.R.E. instruction, JUST SAY NO.