...don�t try to figure out my experience � there�s no method to my madness...
THE INVITATIONOriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
It doesn�t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for And if you dare to dream of meeting your heart�s longing.
It doesn�t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool For love For your dream For the adventure of being alive.
It doesn�t interest me what planets are squaring Your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center Of your own sorrow If you have been opened by life�s betrayals Or have become shriveled and closed From fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain Mine or your own Without moving to hide it Or fade it Or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy Mine or your own If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you To the tips of your fingers and toes Without cautioning us To be careful To be realistic To remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn�t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another To be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal And not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless And therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty Even when it is not pretty every day.. And if you can source your own life From its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure Yours and mine And still stand on the edge of the lake And shout to the silver of the full moon, �Yes.�
It doesn�t interest me to know where you live Or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night Of grief and despair Weary and bruised to the bone To do what needs to be done To feed the children.
It doesn�t interest me who you know Or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand In the center of the fire with me And not shrink back.
It doesn�t interest me where or what or with whom You have studied. I want to know what sustains you From the inside When all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself And if you truly like the company you keep In the empty moments.
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"Fan Clubs...." - 2005-05-12, 4:11 p.m. I have this belief that every single woman should have a fan club � whether it be a big bunch of girlfriends or a host of brothers that make her feel good when she�s feeling sad� hell, even if it�s a group of dudes who just like having her attention: EVERY single woman should have a fan club. I realized this recently, after my heart broke into six million pieces after the demise of my relationship that this thought is not a theory, but a fact. The boyfriend that I bragged about so many times in my diary and I decided that it would be in our best interest not to continue our relationship any longer. Admittedly, I�m still a little hurt, but it was for the best. We had gotten to the point where all we did was argue � every conversation started with a criticism or a harsh comment. How he didn�t like my cussing. How he didn�t like this and that and the other. Then when I retorted, we would get into these discussions. These horrid discussions that would leave me so drained. It got to the point where I limited my conversation with him in order to stop the anguish. We went from moments where we would talk until I feel asleep to five minute conversations that only occurred in between daily activities in attempts to keep the peace. Then things went worse. Every time we talked seemed to intertwine with comments like �You�re going to break up with me, aren�t you?� And I would continuously say �No.� Every time he asked me I would say �No. I want this to work. I want things to get better.� But the more that you ask someone do they want to break up, the more frustrated they get. So I broke. The last time he asked me, I just went off and basically said if you want to end this relationship then fine, it�s over. I�m not going to sit here and continuously listen to you say exactly what you mean and ignore the hints. So the end actually occurred with a text message: I�m sorry it had to be this way. I�ll remember the good times. I know that seems kind of cold, but when you can�t communicate with someone then you just can�t communicate. He asked me to give up � eventually, I did. Nights after the breakup have been rather quiet. The night after we broke up, I realized how many true haters there were out there in regards to my relationship. But then, there was the fan club. They say good news travels quickly � bad news travels at lightening speed. The fan club was in full effect; my cellphone didn�t stop ringing with people asking me if what they had heard was true � had Ral and I really broken up? I confirmed the fact and everyone was there with their consolations and advice. Friends kept telling me that I�m a beautiful girl and that I�ll have no problem finding another relationship. I accepted that, but kind of let that be what it was because in actuality that�s not what I want. I didn�t end my relationship with Ral to just jump back into another one prematurely. I don�t downshift that fast. But it was nice to hear people say it. And then of course there were the guys who wanted to kick it with me but respected the fact that I was in a relationship. They chose those moments to try to be that shoulder for me to cry on (or moreso lay on in silence). A guy friend of mine called me and was like �Do you want some company?� and showed up at the crib in less than 15 minutes. We kind of talked and just sat there in silence while I listened to breakup music and talked about how much I wished things would have worked out. How I delayed meeting Ral�s daughter because I didn�t want to become part of her life and then just walk out. Unfortunately, that�s exactly what happened. It sucks. But my spirits picked up the next night when I went to a poetry show. There was an international poetry slam here this past weekend, so I took it upon myself to use that as an avenue to go out and see if I still had the ability to be �sexy� after being in a relationship. I realized quickly that I did. I went with this incredibly attractive guy named Jay and thought that we�d have a good time together just kicking it and being friends. (and don�t get me wrong � he�s a cool cat, but we have two WAY different personalities) Well, I got around my poet friends and realized that just being around people that you share so much in common with makes you feel sexy in it�s own right. Everyone I encountered was like �Where the fuck have you been?� as if I had disappeared off of the face of the planet. There were people there that I hadn�t seen in at least a year that I laughed and had a wonderful time with. I felt renewed. Then, it didn�t hurt that my favorite spoken word artist was there as well. I went to go pick up tickets and he got ready to walk past me. I said �Sekou, if you don�t stop and give me my hug I SWEAR!� He turned around and said �I just asked about you.� and gave me this humongous hug. It made me feel all warm and tingly all day. He calls me his cheerleader: every time he comes to VA I�m screaming my head off in support because his poetry is off the chain. He�s the greatest. =) And I guess being that much of a supporter would turn a date off� oh well! Jay and I didn�t know each other than well anyway. So I felt revived. I felt like I had a voice that was beyond the restrictions of my breakup. I felt good to be who I am� but I still missed Ral. I missed what we had. I wish breakups were easier�. More to come. -Blessings
In memory - 2006-09-06 all content copyright its-a-newday 2005 |
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