I had a wonderful day yesterday. A day filled with good ole fashioned adult fun. Bright sun, warm spirits, loving friendships and women so beautiful they made me blush. All day the memory of yesterday has been running through my mind, making me smile and shake my head. I actually wore a two-piece. #POW
Now, its 8:44pm on an inconspicuous Tuesday night. I’ve got rice simmering in the oh so convenient rice-cooker, Miquel’s “Sure Thing” seducing my eardrums through my iPOD earpiece, and I can smell the homemade shrimp scampi wafting in the air. The tv is off. My phone-lost for the moment. Out the corner of my eye, I can see boo thing affectionately known as my “half-wife”(we reject the conventional term of fiancé; yet embrace the need to commit publically, what can we say life really IS what you make it), anyhoo she is also on her computer... typing away. She’s applying for jobs, I presume. I both support and chuckle at her attempt; support- because I understand the necessity, chuckle- because I understand the futility of trying to capture excellence and intelligence in the space and limitations of a resume. But hey, “mama need a house, baby need some shoes…,” so shout out to her for getting her hustle on.
So, why you mad?? Lol. Seriously. For months, I have been wanting to do a post about “Angry Black women” but I’m not in the space to channel the energy to write that piece right now. Maybe one day soon, after a long day of work? I imagine that after a good eight hours of waiting tables, I’ll have no issue channeling the angry black women in me. But today, I’m more Stacey Dash on Clueless than NeNe Leakes on RHOA. I’m feeling a little too rich, beautiful, and stylish to be angry.
They say when you turn 30, things change. They say you don’t take as much shit as you used to, and even though I’m not 30 yet, I can feel the shift coming. My life is good. I have good people in my life who love and support me. No one hates me, at least not that I know of. And I pray they never do. It is not my goal to achieve success on the back of someone else. When I see someone else, shining, I congratulate them. Because it gives me hope not a reason to envy them. The only parts of me that will even allow me to bear ill will for another are the parts of me that need more work…that need more love.
The other day, I tweeted that “You have no haters. You hate yourself and that is why you perceive yourself to be hate-able” I regretted it as soon as I sent it, because in honesty it was sent in frustration. I meant what I said, but I know there was a better way to say it. So here is me ..saying it better lol.
I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. All I know is Oprah, Ghandi, Dr. Wayne Dyer, Iyanla Vazant, the Buddha, didn’t get where they are in life because someone hated them. All that they achieved was a result of the love and faith entrusted to them by devoted admirers. Love is how your message outlives you and anyone who ever knew you. According to Christians Jesus has been dead for over 2,000 years, Buddha even longer. But their message is alive in the millions of people who live their lives in homage to them. Their lives were/are a benediction.
I know that I have all this love in my life not only because I willed it so, but because I deserve it and so do you. No one deserves to be hated, when all we want to be is loved. No need for the tired defense mechanism and false pride fueled by (many times) alcohol and frustration. The universe and your future success requires that you abandon the trivial idea that other people are out to get you and embrace that all that is for you is coming to you, just as fast as you are moving toward it. The only thing is, one has to be in the habit of receiving before one can take advantage of it. Which means that those who fill their days with gossip instead of gratitude will always have someone or something to talk about, while the rest of us will always have something to be thankful for...
…in the meantime, THIS is my life. The one that smells like home-cooked meals, feels like good music, sounds like my friends laugher and feels like my half-wife’s kisses.
What does this moment in your life feel like?