Friday, December 31, 2004

 

Awakening a New Rhythm

Just when you thought the fall was over, you discover a new bottom. A hidden trap door. Like one of the doors you touch or bump--it looks like a bookshelf--you know the kind in those horror flicks that just slide open and place you into the unknown. And now you're falling further into the blackness that is sometimes life. Walking without sight, smell or touch. That's where I am right this moment. Nowhere. This is New Year's Eve. I'm supposed to be somewhere partaying, somewhere having a good ol' time. But this evening, I received one more written notification of the financial crisis I'm steeped in, of the financial hole I've dug myself into people pleasing, rescuing and just being plain old irresponsible. Yesterday I spent my last money buying food for a community event! I didn't know it was my last money until today when a couple of unexpected expenses took a trip through my family's bank account. I will stop being so codependent! I will stop being so codependent. I will stop!!! And the irony of it all is that those around me seem so oblivious to all I'm going through with the exception of just a sacred few. Why should they know what I'm going through? I don't tell them. Do I say I'm broke--no! I call it a financial challenge. Well, here it is--A Sistah Be Broke! LOL. Usually I just smile and act like I'm fine when on some days....whew, I could just stay in bed from sun up to sun down and be okay. It's rough being in this human incarnation. I hope I learn the lessons soon. I'm running out of lives. LOL. I used to feel so proud of the fact that I have given my entire life to the "cause." The Black cause, the women's cause, poor people's cause, gay people's cause and the list goes on and on. This year, I realized that most activists, most humanitarians die broke and lonely-- some even leave here homeless. Not one of the "thousands" of people they "touched," found it in their hearts to offer these people a bed, a meal--nothing. This is painfully real. Other activists leave here sick with cancer and other spiritual illnesses. These realities hit me hard. One of my spiritual teachers told me that being a priest (Yoruba Priestess) is continuously painful. He said anytime someone goes against the grain, choses the unpopular and least traveled road--people will reject you, abandon you, attack you and betray you on a regular basis. Sometimes they do this just because you are different and your being different scares them. Messes with their comfort level. Today, I'm claiming the freedom to decide if this is the road for me. I don't care how many people are looking up to me or expecting me to guide them. I guess I need to become the "cause" I'm fighting for. I need to creat a campaign for my own freedom. An elder told me last night that I have a gift for affirming the gifts of others. People tell me all the time how much I help them. How much my wisdom, support (blah, blah, blah) has helped them transform their life. But today, I am turning in the "help other people" baton. I know the Elder meant that as a compliment, but for me, that was just one more example of how I give and give to the point of being drained. Something is wrong with this painting called me and I'm determined to fix it even if I have to repaint it, stomp on it, wash it, ring it out--hell--maybe I'll just throw the damn thing out and get a new canvas. That's it! I'm going to start with nothing and create the life I want. A blank canvas. January 1, 2005, I'm starting with zero. I want to be in alignment with our bank account. LOL. That would mean I'd have to not only be zero, I'd have to be in the RED. LOL again. So I guess the first color I'm painting with is blue. Navy blue. Dark, dark navy blue. Tomorrow I'll add some indigo, peach and pink. Some uplifting colors. Tomorrow, I replan and restrategize my entire life. Some may thinking I'm binging on self-pity. That I'm having a melt down. Hell, maybe I am. But you know what, it's dayum time I started having some compassion and that's right, some PITY for myself. I need to melt down to nothing so I can become what is in my heart and my soul. I'm always thinking I'm not doing enough, being enough, sharing enough. And you know what? I've always been enough! I have always been a MF nuff. Why I couldn't see this is beyond me. I'm starting to wonder if my 12-step program upbringing has had a negative impact on my ability to navigate through life. 19 years of being powerless, of making amends, of looking at my part in every thing. 19 years of trying to live righteously, of trying not to step on anyone or hurt anyone. Where has it gotten me? What's that saying? "Nice girls finish last." Last will no longer have my name on it! I'm giving up that slot today. Here's my point: the humility 12-step programs teach you to move in really becomes a problem when you're playing ball with those who would trip you, hide your ball and steal your points in a new york minute. You're sitting over there trying to be humble. While those who get joy in your public humiliation are getting full off your failure. 2004 taught me that being in the prize ring is tough. Everyone is always looking and at any minute, you might get knocked the @#$K out. And a bunch of people will be cheering as you bounce off the ropes and hit the floor. And some of those cheering folks will be those you have prayed with, for and among. Nope, the entertainment industry is not for the faint of heart nor the weak of spirit. You are a walking dollar bill to those around you and at any moment, they might decide to make change with your azz. Today I am toughening my skin with the oil of truth. Personal truth. Spiritual truth. And Black folks--mmphf, mmphf, mmphf, what can I say about my brothers and sisters? Okay, I know, I'll write about them in February, Black history month. Isn't that befitting? LOL. I'll say this for now, as much as I love my people, as much as I have sacrificed for my people, NO other people have hurt me more. But I will always love them, yes I will. But in 2005 I will love them in a new and different way. And I will be thankful for all people, regardless of skin color or race. I have to learn to be selfish, let go of guilt, be self-serving. Hate me if you want to. Run if you need to. I have to love and treasure the art of winning if I want to survive and hopefully one day thrive. 2005 is going to be one helluva clean up year for me, but as long as I have hope and breath, I have a chance to change my life. I might not have any friends left by the end of 2005. But damnnit, that's just too bad. I'm living for me in 2005. Period. End of story. At Midnight, the old me is dead. I am no longer anything. I am recreating me from the ground up. I can do this. I can do this. I will do this. The Rhythms of Life Do Change. Moons, Miracles and Justice. T.A.

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