Friday, May 20th, 2016
“Sanctuary - noun. The protection that is provided by a safe place.”
Sanctuary, safe place, silence, and solace. Sanctuary, the destination. Watered grass is green, not the grass on the other side. The process, trust it. The watering, is worth it. The beauty is where the struggle is, and the beauty is where there is sanctuary. Sanctuary is found, lost, and has always been there. It is beautiful, and it is pure. On the path of self-discovery and at the onset of change, things can become blurry. Desire and delusion, wants versus needs, and urgent versus important. But, sanctuary. Sanctuary- safe place. Consistently, safe. Not hot today and cold tomorrow. It did not build you up yesterday, to tear you down tomorrow. Sanctuary, it is constant, it is always there.
Sanctuary, it doesn’t move, but it does change. It evolves and it uplifts, but it does not disappear. When you call, it will pick up. Sanctuary; mature and mindful, motivating and marvelous. Sanctuary, it is not earned, and it is not deserved; it is given, and should be cherished. Sanctuary; it won’t tell you you aint shit, even if it thinks it, it will not close the door in front of your face, even if you refuse to walk in. Sanctuary; protection. It does not hurt, but it is scary. It is not scary because it intends to be. A shock, a reality that seems too good to be true. But it is yours. It is yours to find, and it is yours to keep. Sanctuary. It is not a prison, it will not hold you back, it will give you things you need, and things that you are not sure you want. Peace and patience. Prized and precious; sanctuary.
The closest thing to God, the highest expression of love. Selfless, and serene…but scary, yes. It is not deserved, and it is not earned…it is given, and it is realized. Sanctuary; it does not boast; it does not yell. It is not easily angered. Sanctuary; the process, trust it. Sanctuary had to find itself, as you had to find it. Evolving with experience, but safe; always. Sanctuary, always ready, even when you are not. It is not mean, it knows herself, but it is still a work in progress. It has been abused, and misused; but still…safe. It is misunderstood, it is laughed at, it is played and left at bay. But it is. Existing; mature and mindful, motivating and marvelous.
Sanctuary; not for show, not always seen, not always heard, and not always valued. Silent prayers and realized dreams. Exactly what you didn’t know you needed. Not so quick to judge, symbiotic, and serene. Sanctuary; knows too much, sees all, but must say little. Sanctuary; scary. There is no bar or standard, it cannot be compared. Mistakes won’t take it away, but they will make tit pray. Sanctuary; it is not earned, and it is not deserved, it is given. It will work, when it’s supposed to.
Wednesday, May 18th, 2016
I am courageous most often, and I am scared as hell too. I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing. I plan, and I think, and I plan again. If these same skills didn’t pay my bills, I’d really consider getting rid of them. I tend to make good decisions. Tend. I, however, am not so good at going with the flow. At the beginning of any conquest, I assess the pros and cons, probability of failure, and what that impact will be. Did I say, I have no clue what I’m doing? I know what I’m good at. I know what I’m not. I don’t know what I could be good at, but that’s what I’m trying to figure out.
I do not know everything, but I know too much. I know how to be good to people, and I know how to stop. I know how to love people, and I never stop. I think too much, must often about things that are not mine to think on. I am here again at 25.5; trying to find a happy medium. The balance of scales.
I know courage, we’re best friends. Though, somewhere between there and here, I forgot him. I didn’t lose him, I just got lost. With everything that was going on, and life’s fast changes, I forgot courage. Everything is always going to change. That’s how it works, life. Courage, is what got me here, and courage is what will get me to the next point. Fear and courage can not rest pleasantly in the same home. They can not coexist. Things are scary, but are often not as big as we make them.
I have a pretty good idea about who I am, and what I don’t like. Actually, I know all too well, what I don’t like. It is the process of figuring out what I do like that seems to be the challenge. Complicated, I am, but not overly. Trial and error, falling and getting back up (literally). Courage. I saw a quote the other day that read, “Be patient with yourself, you are discovering parts of yourself that you’ve never met.” Or something like that.
I had hoped that things would be different, I dreamt of simpler days, of things just making sense, and that being ok. Not yet, not so simple, it is not time for that. The fascinating thing about hope, is that you don’t ever have to let it go. Hope. Simple, no, not yet. Now is the time to be complicated, but not the time to be careless.
Careless, no. Not me. I can’t, somewhere between hope, haughtiness and fear of failure, I can not be careless. I mean a lot to myself, and so they’ve said, I mean a lot to other people. For this reason, I care. I ask ‘How are you?,’ and I say, ‘please and thank you.’ No one owes you anything, you know? But it is ok to care.
This a love note, a quirky, all over the place, “I love you.” To my best friend, Courage. I met you once, and then I met you again and again, and again. I forgot you at times, but I never left. I’ve been hiding from you. Well, maybe not hiding, but staying busy with other things that you don’t like, worry, and doubt. It’s just a season, I am growing, I do not always know in my heart what I know in my mind. Everything that happens to me, I feel one hundred fold. Everything that I happen to, also feels me, one hundred fold. It is not you, courage, it is me. I am not sorry that I got lost. I’m not sorry that I lost you. I am ecstatic that you have found me again. To my best friend, courage.
Friday, May 13th, 2016
Thought, food for. Assurance and arrest. It is too soon to say, and it is too early to play. Panic and protection, gripped, firm. I paint, I am tired of fit. It is exhausting. So now, I will write. Words and paint strokes are the same anyway. I started a painting, it looks like a firefly, it is a firefly. It is me. These words, they are me too. I am being honest with myself. I must. I am not good, but I am trying to be. My heart is pure, but tainted. It is good. It is not chastised by circumstance. I am not good, but my heart is. I am not good, but I try to be. So there’s that. Respect and loyalty are things I do not struggle with. People are spirits, spirits are gifts, cherish them. Embrace what is good, acknowledge what is not. Life is hard, it doesn’t slow down. What month is it, anyway?
Does anyone know where circles lead you? Is it back where you started? I used to walk and talk in circles, then I stopped. I stopped because it is also exhausting, like painting; like feeling. Everything was, is, and will be okay. Figuring it Out.
Thank goodness this is my site. It doesn’t have to make sense. These are words, if you read it a few times, let them touch you, you’ll get it.
Chance, the Rapper. I listened to him today. Where have you been? Such hope, alliterated hope. Each word heavy and light at the same time. “I speak to God in public. I speak to God in public.” Monday, of last week I logged into Facebook, I updated my status. It read, “God whispers to me when I’m awake, and speaks loudly when I sleep.” I cant make this up. I can not make this up. By speaks loudly, I mean, screams. He screams. So, I too, speak to God in public, and He speaks to me. Funny thing is, I did not say I listen. I do listen, probably not as often as He’d like, but we, He and I, we are working on that. I do not know who I am, He does. As soon as I get that through my thick scull. Maybe the fight wont be so tough.
After running through Views for 3 weeks, Drake I’m still sick of your shit. Stop trying to wake up your exes, they’re sleep. Are you sleep too? You might be. Wake Up *School Daze Reference,* for the made. So, now that I have an alternative uplifting choice of music, Chance, you’ve got my ear. Chance, you’re figuring it out. Thank you, I want to know what that looks like. The universe has to catch you figuring, if it is going to help you do the math. Coloring Book, as in paint. Paint and colors. Lines, too fill in. Shapes, to figure out.
Look at what is real. Really, look at it. Look again. Stop trying to figure out if it is faux, your eyes are not deceiving you. Admonish self-righteousness. Give it time. The universe is figuring it out. Assurance and arrest.
I am not good, I try to be.
Monday, January 4th, 2016
So I’m not really sure if it’s too late to do a Lessons of 2015 blog post, but it’s 3 in the morning, I only slept for two hours, so what better thing to do than write? I’m going to recount a story, one that had many sad moments, but one that had a million new happy memories that made 2015 worth while. Through this story, and this year, I learned three major lessons:
Timing is never Right.
Trust the facts.
When in doubt, speak up.
At the start of the year, I was sitting at yet another crucial crossroad, forced to make another major life decision…and I wasn’t quite up to it. I was sick of love, probably still sick in love (loosely), and I felt like I really had to start making some hard yes and no decisions.
As the story went, boy fell in love with girl, girl reluctantly believed boy, girl falls in love with boy…they were absolutely terrible for each other; neither wanted to admit it….and kaboom; TNT, war zone. This may be the first time I have ever stated that the said boy and girl were “terrible for each other,” taking some responsibility for the series of very fortunate events.
So 2015 started, and girl was finally getting over boy. Like major breakthrough moments…because she was aware that there was clearly something better in front of her, and was finally ready to look at the facts. Said girl, is me. The fantastical love story in my mind was quickly fading…the weekend getaways were over, no more flowers to my job…no more Tiffany’s boxes. I was ok with that, for a moment. I looked at the details, I did a gap analysis and identified lessons learned. because Duh, I’m a Management Consultant and I do this with everything. As nice as those things are, fluff can be deceiving….if the foundation is rocky, none of that matters. Time doesn’t care, things happen exactly when they should. Fluff and flowers do not matter as much as we’d like to think. Fluff doesn’t create loyalty and truth. What does matter, are facts. Cold, hard facts.
Here is the trouble about facts…they are real. Facts are truths, according to Webster, “something that has actual existence.” They are very real. Here’s the thing about love, well, real love…it is also very real. It stands the tests of time, it does not deceive, it does not dwell in doubt, and as things change,it changes too…it adapts, it’s malleable, and it doesn’t just give up. The only real truth about love…is that it hurts. It hurts really bad, and so does fake love. Love is also a choice, not just one, but more like a series of continuous choices. From my experience, and the events of my said soap opera, real love is worth every ounce of the pain. In the same moment it hurts…like hell, it also heals.
Back to the story…The romance bug bit me rather late in life….and I wasn’t a hopeless romantic, ever, until I was. But I am not sure if hopeless romance was based on fact. Though romance and fairytales make me happy, I’m a Facts Queen *Fetty Wap voice*. Hopeless romance seems like a failed attempt to juggle fact, fiction, and fantasy. In 2015, I learned that the fiction and fantasy part of that game, is what makes it a losing one. The early months of the year were passing ever so slowly. I was still crying myself to sleep, wondering what, how, why, and for how long. The idea of a new relationship didn’t seem awful, but the timing wasn’t right. I finally started getting my act together, I redirected my energy and thoughts away from being alone and I started doing what I do best; create. I had been really taking care of self, not much worrying about the aforementioned boy, but I had some time to think on another…because facts. To my dismay, the the timing wasn’t right. I’m not one to interfere with the universe, but sometimes I know that I know things. But because of time, I kept creating…because that is a pretty good way to pass it.
A series of, give or take, unfortunate or fortunate events led to another crossroad, and decision point. This is the point in the year where I learned two of the biggest lessons of life and love to date. The first being, that the timing is never right. It is never ideal, it is never comfortable, it just is. The second being, facts are very important. when you come to the table with facts, sometimes you can add some fantasy and fairytale, and it turns out to be better than before.
Back to the story. I had a very grown up, very fact based conversation with someone who was very close to me. Closer than I knew, and that one conversation changed the course of the year. It was scary af…but I can honestly say it is one of the better decisions I have during this trial and error called life. This particular one conversation led to the third and final, yet recurring lesson of the year, which was…you have to speak up and speak out. Not just on love, but on doubts and insecurities, on pains and on pleasures. This release will keep you from losing your mind, and slowing dying on the inside.
In the course of these lessons, I found new, fact based love. Because sometimes new love comes in the midst of the hardest lessons, and even in the shadow of a love we once thought was guaranteed. It happened, and it was scary, but it was good.The timing wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t comfortable to speak up, but I had my facts. When in doubt, and when you are forced to make some hard decisions, that were not in your plans, and were not comfortable, remember that nothing bad comes from dealing in truth. Truth and love can break through anything…it is the lies that we tell ourselves, and that others tell us that tend to cut things short. There is no perfect time…but there is no better time than now.
Speak up, shoot your shot, and cheers to 2016.
Monday, October 26th, 2015
October is my favorite Month. Its the first full month of Fall and my Birthday Month! This year I celebrated my 25th birthday in my home city of Washington, D.C. and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Though I wished to travel abroad, spending time at home with my friends and family was more than I could ask for. On Friday night, I had a family dinner at Mike’s American Grill in Springfield, VA. If you’re ever in the area, and want solid American cuisine, it never disappoints.
On Saturday, my boyfriend celebrated his birthday ( almost #birthdaytwinning). We had dinner at Del Frisco’s Steakhouse in the new Center City, located downtown. As a self-proclaimed steak connoisseur, Ive tasted my fair share of beef. I must say, Del Frisco’s may be best Ive ever had. Its a very upscale chic evening spot, bustling with the city’s tastemakers, lawmakers, and influencers alike. As a five star restaurant, you’re surely paying for what you get. From the service, to the view, it was worth every penny.
Though I was slightly bummed that I wasn’t going to be in Paris my birthday week (this trip is still in the works), I experienced Paris right at home! My second favorite thing after Paris, is Brunch…so why not combine the two? My favorite brunch spot in the city, Malmaison, is tucked away in a cut right by the Potomac River in Georgetown. Adorned with a Parisian ambiance, with black and whit interiors and perfect crown molding, it is everything, plus some! Mimosas, Macarons, and Crepes!? Hello, Paris. Deron and I welcomed 14 guests, as we sat in a private section and sipped on bottomless mimosas. French toast, omelets, and a live cellist. I was sitting on Cloud 9! Every worry, I had was gone. I had a fantastic weekend with the people who loved me most, and I was able to meditate on everything trial and triumph God has blessed me with. The Chic cherry on top, just made everything so much better, and my fringe skirt!
Here’s a glimpse my weekend! Thank you all for following along with me as I blog and share, and figure it out.
Oh, and how can I forget? Happy 2nd Blogiversary 2nd and L.
Special thanks to my friends and family, my amazing blessing of a boyfriend, and my Designer/Fashionista Extraoridnaire Yanique Moore!
What Im Wearing:
1. Crop Top- Missguided 2. Fringe Skirt – MissGuided 3. Heels-ZARA