Keeping It Moving!

Everyday I have to remind myself to “keep it moving!” I’ve been going through a hard spell lately, and I can’t seem to stay focused or motivated. Of course, I asked myself all the usual questions: am I depressed, am I distressed, am I angry, am I tired, am I burned out. What am I? Too often the answer doesn’t come easy. Sometimes I survey others to see what they are doing to stay motivated, to keep it moving. I found out I wasn’t the only one having this problem, but I also got some great suggestions.

One person suggested that I stop watching the news. She said she could be in a good mood, but one hour of news would put her in a funk. Her suggestion made me take notice of how often the news repeats the same stories and yet, I was sitting through multiple broadcasts. (Why can’t we have an hour of good news repeated over and over again? ) Of course, it is important to keep up with current events, but it’s also important to evaluate whether the events are current or simply recycled for ratings. I cut my news time back to one channel, one cycle. Two things happened. It freed up some time to do other things, and I didn’t feel like I had missed anything. (Another friend suggested checking the headlines online and scrolling through the stories that interest me. However, I spend too much time on the computer everyday for work, so that wasn’t for me. Perhaps it’s an answer that will work for you.)

One of my co-workers gave me a cliche as a suggestion. “Take the time to smell the roses,” she said. I have to admit I had an inward sneer at this suggestion. Over several days she made her point. The first day she sent me a text that asked if I had seen the beautiful moon that morning. (We are both up at 5 o’clock.) I didn’t see the beautiful moon. The second day she sent a text that said, did you hear the birds singing this morning. I didn’t hear the birds singing. Then my mom got in on the act. She asked me if I had seen the white and pink roses growing in our front yard. I had not seen the roses. Indeed, I hadn’t taken the time to “smell the roses.”

I started lingering on the porch before I got in my car in the mornings. I saw the moon, the clouds, and I heard the birds singing. One morning, I heard a tingling sound. It was soft and sweet like small bells ringing. I thought to myself, what is that? I looked all around the front of the house but I couldn’t get a bead on it. Finally, I walked to the side of the garage and there it was – the silver wind chimes my mom and I hung many years ago. When had I stopped noticing the wind chimes? When was the last time I thought about its beautiful music or noticed the gentle breeze? I stood there amazed. I had been neglecting the things I love – nature, good books, photography, watching the morning and evening sky, and listening to the wind chimes – I had missed them all. I certainly want to keep moving, but I don’t want to fly by the things that bring me comfort and joy. Suddenly, I realized it wasn’t about just keeping it moving, it was about moving intentionally toward the things that were needed, as well as the things that fulfilled me.

As much as I harp on self-care, I had ceased to follow my own advice. I went to the nail salon to get a manicure and a pedicure for a Thursday night date with my husband. As I sat in the massage chair enjoying the reflexology, I tried to remember the last time I had gone to a spa or a salon. I couldn’t remember the last time. In fact, I couldn’t remember doing anything solely for myself. As soon as I got home, I signed up for a writer’s conference. Even though the conference wasn’t more thirty minutes from my house, I booked a hotel and enjoyed a luxury suite and gourmet food the entire weekend. The conference was great too.

Perhaps the point of this blog entry is to redefine “Keeping It Moving.” What is my “it”? It can’t just be working from 9 to 5. It can’t just be the daily routine of taking care of the family. It can’t be my career as a writer alone. It has to be the total package – keeping my mind growing, keeping my creativity flowing, keeping my relationships in priority, keeping my spirit and soul refreshed, keeping my body healthy and rested. I have to remember my “it” isn’t just one thing; no one’s is. The thing that stagnates us or gets us in a rut is being out of balance with all that makes us who we are. We can’t focus on one aspect of our lives and still “keep it moving.”

How about you? What is your “it?” How do you “keep it going?” Perhaps your life, like mine, was thrown out of balance by the things you couldn’t do during the pandemic crisis. Perhaps the substitutes for personal social activities have fail us. Maybe it’s time to reassess what our personal activities are, and whether they are serving our needs. My suggestion is to discuss it with a few friends, family members, your counselor and/or your spiritual advisor. You may find that they have some suggestions that will set you free. Then you can start keeping it moving again from a new perspective.

I look forward to keeping it moving with you. Be safe and enjoy life while you’re keeping it moving.

What’s Normal?

It never ceases to amaze me that everyone’s idea of normal is different. I see it in children all the time. When I worked with homeless children in a daycare setting the children always asked if it was time to go home. Home for them was wherever mom and dad were. Children without a father in the home still played games that included mom, dad, and baby in the dramatic play center. I’ve never had a child without living grandparents ask what grandparents were. Children who eat all of their meals out of a paper bag still understand the concept of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Why are all these statements true? When you don’t know any other circumstances or conditions, and you don’t have anything to compare them to, they all seem normal to you. .

As a teacher of students from various socio-economical backgrounds, different ethnicities, and diverse religious backgrounds, I learned never to assume that their idea of normal was the same as mine. Incorporating celebrations like holidays around the world and sharing family photos always gave us an opportunity to learn about one another and to ask questions to increase our understanding. I especially liked when parents would share food that represented their culture and background. Needless to say, many of us as adults are not as open to the differences of others as we could be. The elusive “they say” seems to dictate what our normal should be. I once heard it said that the American dream is a 9 to 5 job, 2.5 children (I never really understood the .5 kid) , a single family home with a two car garage, and at least one four-legged pet. If that be the case, many people have never lived an American ideal of normal. No wonder we are having problems with achieving the “new normal:” our old normal was never solidified.

When do we reach the point when we stop waiting for things to return to normal or simply adjust to our new normal? Is it because we have never taken the time to identify what normal really is in our lives? Is spending time with our children and reinforcing the lessons they learn at school a part of the old normal, the new normal, or just normal? Is maintaining contact with our distance family and friends and checking on their welfare a part of the old normal, the new normal, or just normal? What kind of normal is having our aging parents move in with us? What kind of normal is sending a care package to a college student or an enlisted soldier? Is it old, new, or just normal to take a hot meal over to a bereaved friend or family member? Am I wrong if I substitute the words “new,” “old,” and “just” for the word ‘my.” After all my normal may be altogether different from your normal.

My normal has always included multiple generations living under one roof. My normal includes having brothers and sisters who are no blood relationship to me. My normal includes sharing what you have with those who are close to you even when it’s part of the last of what you have. My normal means always putting the children first. My normal incorporates whatever my husband and I decide we can do and will do regardless what others think. My normal includes people who believe in prayer and aren’t afraid to pray for me and with me. My normal fosters good will toward all people even if we need to agree to disagree. Commercials, social media, politics, or even the pandemic can not dictate what’s normal for me because they are not the foundation of my worldview. Promises that things will return to normal can not be my motivation for living, perhaps because I reached that age where I want to live in the now and enjoy the present. What I have now is normal since normal always requires adjustments due to circumstances beyond our control. The question then becomes am I willing to make the necessary adjustments. Adjustments are normal.

If this came off preachy, I apologize, that was truly not my intention. I guess what I really want to say is, you decide what’s normal. Don’t miss out on living, on sharing, on giving, on being waiting for a new normal. Make whatever adjustments you need to make to enjoy every aspect of your life in your present normal. You have talent. You have loved ones. You have ideas. You have opportunities. You have resources. You have hope. You have dreams. You have faith. No matter how little or how big these things are, they are part of your normal. Don’t lose another day waiting for things to change. Be the change. That’s normal!

Be safe. Be proactive. Be in the moment.

Transitions (40th Anniversary Edition): Making Sense of Life's Changes by [William Bridges, Susan Bridges]
Celebrating 40 years of the best-selling guide for coping with life’s changes, named one of the 50 all-time best books in self-help and personal development — with a new Discussion Guide for readers, written by Susan Bridges. Amazon.com

Love Demonstrated

Sometimes even English teachers can get into philosophical debates like is love a noun or a verb. Of course, the answer is both yes, maybe, and no. (lol) Love is one of those words that has archaic meaning and modern definition. After all, we have mad love for our favorite authors, musicians, and stars, but we also absolutely love and adore our pets, baseball, and the smell of orchids. The way we use the word indicates several degrees of depth and meaning, but verbally using the word may not mean anything at all. It is far to easy to speak the word, but much harder to demonstrate the word.

I have two adult sons, a godson, and two mostly adult grandchildren (ages 18 and 19) that I have tried to explain the concept of real love to. I start by saying, “Anyone can say ‘I love you, but their actions will tell you whether they really do.” I don’t want them to become enamored with the words alone. The words are not magic. The words do not indicate true conviction. From a noun perspective, love is a decision, a judgment, and a promise. However, love as a verb is action, demonstration, and tangible through the senses. Therefore, I tell my offspring, “When someone says they love you, it should be followed by tangible evidence.” Love must be demonstrated.

In my relationships with my mother, my husband, my in-laws, my dearest and closest friends, there is no love insecurity not because they tell me they love me all the time, but because they demonstrate their love for me consistently. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I venture to say the same thing is true for them because I demonstrate my love for them. The more we demonstrate our love for one another, the more confident, assured, and impactful our relationships become. In other words, I can depend on their care. I can depend on their presence in my life even when they are not physically present. Over time the demonstration of their love builds credibility and dependability in their spoken words.

I also warn my boys (grown men, but always my children) never to use the words ‘I love you” loosely or without thought and true commitment. The words can be used to manipulate others whether intentionally or unintentionally. In other languages there are different words to express different kinds of love. In American English (which I would argue is substandard because we have borrowed so many words from others as well as made up our own words) the degrees and kinds of love is still the same word. I love my husband. I love my dog. I love lasagna. I love cola. I love reading. I love a fire in the fire place. We can take each one of those sentences and substitute the word “love” with the word “like” and they would still be valid. We could also substitute the word love with “adore,” “fond of,” or “enjoy.” When we change the words we may get a more accurate picture of what the person means when they say, “I love you.” So I encourage my guys (and gals) to choose their words wisely.

Okay, enough of this philosophical discussion. My point, first for myself and then for you my readers, is am I demonstrating the words I use. When I say those words that have held so much meaning for centuries, do I follow them with equal demonstration and action? Do I really demonstrate love when I haven’t reached out to a grieving friend? Do I demonstrate love when I don’t take the time to check on those who are alone and isolated because they are not techno-savvy? Do I demonstrate love when I spend more time on social media than actually talking to people? Do I demonstrate love when I half listen to what someone is saying, or when I fail to discern their body language, or when I drop them an emoji when they have expressed a heartfelt emotion or struggle? OUCH!

This pandemic has not only taught me that time has no guarantees, it’s taught me how valuable relationships are. The opportunity to express my love may be shorter than I think, and I don’t want anyone in my beloved circle to ever doubt or feel insecure about how I hold them in my heart. Every day I tell myself to be more intentional about demonstrating my love. In my desire to be loved, I also want to give love – the noun and the verb. How about you? Are you receiving secure love? Are you giving secure love? It’s not too late to make the commitment. Our love may not be perfect, but it can be demonstrated in everyday.

Impactful Relationships

Sometimes we need to take the time to access our relationships. As time goes by we may find that we have substituted new relationships and foregone old relationships. We may also find that the value of those foregone relationships were worth more to us than we realized. While all relationships may be impactful, some negative, I choose to focus on the positive for this blog entry.

What does it mean to be impactful? I’m referring to the actions or words that have had a major effect on our lives, our character, and perhaps even our worldview. Does that bring a list of people to mind? I am so grateful for those people who have had a positive impact in my life. The ones who encouraged me to follow my dreams. The ones who saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself. The ones who blocked my path to self-destruction. The ones who spoke wisdom, when foolishness was all around me, and especially those who taught me that I could have an impact on the next generation as a vocation.

Recently, I was in contact with a childhood friend. We became friends in Junior High School many years ago. At some point in our lives, we stop being just friends and became family. After our conversation on the phone, I began to reflect on the impact she and her family had on my life. Her brother adopted me as his little sister and watch out for me. Her mother treated me like one of her own daughters. My friend accepted me and the dysfunctional awkwardness of my own family structure. From her family I learned so many things about being a confident young woman. Years later, my friend was the maid of honor in my wedding. Although we live far apart, we continue to stay in touch.

In reality I can trace impactful relationships among teachers, neighbors, roommates, sorority sisters, church members, co-workers, employers, my in-laws, and my relatives. Some people bring goodness to your life just by being there, and being themselves: people who are good listeners; people who empathize; people who extend a helping hand; people who deposit wisdom from their own experiences; people who share their life stories, triumphs and failures. These people help you become the best you can be because they impact how you process the circumstances of your life. They impact your perspective, and your outlook without really meaning to; they are just being who they are. These are the type of people that leave the world better than they found it, because they care about others, and are not afraid to touch their lives.

After talking to my friend the other day, I had to ask myself if I am positively impactful in my relationships. Am I taking the time to be an active listener? Am I truly present with others or am I distracted by my phone, my own thoughts, or other relationships? Do I share my experiences, my abilities, my minor or major expertise (depending on how you look at it)? Do others smile when they think of time spent with me, or do they wish I wouldn’t bother to show up as often as I do? We have an opportunity not only to evaluate our present relationships for their impact in our lives, we can also evaluate our impact on others. It’s tied to legacy. (See A Living Epitaph from 10/21/21.)

Relationships are impactful, and the ones that are positive in their impact are worth keeping for years and years. I am so thankful that my relationship with my friend has stood the test of time. I am also happy for the new relationships that keep me active and relevant. How about you? When you evaluate your relationships do you realize the gems? Truly impactful relationships are a treasure.

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Journaling – a New Year’s Resolution.

One of the ways you can do a self-examination is to journal on a daily basis. This will allow you a time of introspection. You may also discover some creativity. I’m positive my poetry and short stories came out of a search for my inner truth. It was a lot easier to express myself to my journals and diaries than to actual talk to people, especially when I was young. When you journal you don’t have to fear rejection or being misunderstood. You can be your authentic self or at least search for the real you. You can also examine your experiences and conversations with others, as well as how these things made you feel. You can question your conclusions and even question the motives of others – all in the private place of your journal and your heart. I’m sure others can attest to this practice being just one of many ways to effect personal change. Try it! It may be the beginning of a new you.

Final Tip: Expensive leather bound journal books are not a must. You can start journaling in a composition book or steno pad. The important thing is to write from your heart and soul. Don’t let the vehicle side track you.

Make you New Year a happy one filled with personal growth.

Finding Your Roots

First off, let me announce, this blog content is not about finding your roots, as in heritage, which is very popular these days. This blog is about how is your life rooted. I had the experience of feeling like my life had lost its tether, like I was just floating from one experience to another with anything holding me down. These times were very unsettling. I was sure I was going to lose myself, as well as all that was dear to me. The ground of my life seemed to give way to shifting sand. One day I realized, I had to find and return to my roots.

So much has happened in the last couple of years. The things that once gave us stability began to waver. The pandemic, the economy, the political agendas, racial tensions, loss of loved ones, enterprise failing – all these things robbed us of our feelings of security and reliance. In the midst of it all, I asked myself what can I depend on. Clearly the answer wasn’t a job, a title, finances, or possessions. Everything in my life was changing, not only in my life, but in the lives of everyone around me. We were all waiting for “the new normal” to come and stabilize our lives again. Some are still waiting.

Self-evaluation and introspection have become my go-to when I feel out of sorts, or off balance. I start by journaling my feelings. (See blog post 12/7/19 Journaling for Personal Change and 05/29/20 Journals or Diaries – Is That a Question?) How do I really feel? What feelings do I have that I wouldn’t dare share with anyone else? Am I distressed, am I depressed, am I suppressing anger, am I afraid, do I feel hopeless? You can tell your journal anything, good or bad. Am I desiring romance, am I in need of a retreat or a vacation, is someone stepping on my dreams or impending my progress? My journal knows. It may take several days or weeks of writing, but sooner or later the answers become clear.

The next step is to evaluate the sources of input, feedback, and external sources that have an impact on my perspective. This can include people’s opinions or advise, social media, TV news, books, or overheard conversations. Sometimes we are unaware of the effects of outside sources. We subconsciously take a lot in without really realizing it. That’s why introspection is so important, not just when things are going wrong. Periodic examinations and self-reflection helps us to make the necessary adjustments to weed out the negative and hone the positive. Questions like: why have I been feeling so good lately, how did I get through that situation, who was really in my corner, how much rest did I get last night, where did that point of view come from, are these my thoughts and opinions or am I repeating something I heard?

This past week, someone very dear to me walked out of my life. It was abrupt and very disturbing. My husband and I had done everything we knew to do to help this relative. We gave of ourselves physically, financially, and emotionally over a long period of time. Yet, when this person left we were accused of trying to hold them back. My husband was outraged, and I was confused, devastated, and exhausted. For several days, I tried to process everyone’s comments and opinions. I rehashed the words that had been spoken by all parties. I began to feed my despair with carbohydrates (binge eating). My sleep habits changed. I was sad, and somewhat fearful. The “what-ifs” scenarios were taking over my thought life and self-talk. One day, as I was talking to a dear friend, I realized the state I was in. It was time to journal. It was time to return to my life roots.

If you have been reading my blogs for awhile, you probably already know this: My life is rooted in faith, family, and friends. There is nothing more important to me than faith, family, and friends, and in that order. So, when I process and evaluate what’s going on in my life, my writing, my relationships, my mind, these are the priorities I consider first. Faith, family, and friends are the source of my life’s nourishment and nurture. My identity and creativity flourish from this foundation. My worldview and community involvement grew from this base. My outlook and citizenship stem from these mainstays of my life. Faith, family, and friends is the soil where I want my legacy to grow.

I came to the conclusion that I had done all I knew how to do to help that relative who walked out of our lives. There is nothing I would change, and I have no regrets for extending our help, our home, or our resources. By faith, I trust that all is as it should be. They cannot forget what we’ve done, and someday it will make a positive difference in their lives. We will always be family, therefore the door is not closed. We will still be available. Lastly, true friends accept and support our decisions and actions whether they agree or not, because they love and respect us.

My life is well grounded. It’s roots are strong and holding. Like a palm tree in a storm, I’m shaken, but still standing. What about you? Have you found your roots? In the midst of instability, what’s holding your life in place? Whatever it is, I hope it always brings you back to a state of hope, peace, joy and love.

Happy Thanksgiving. Be strong, be wise, be well-grounded!

A Living Epitaph

Several weeks ago I participated in an online writer’s workshop. One of the creative moments required us to focus on what we would like to have written on our tombstone other than our name and dates. We were given five minutes to come up with our final epitaph. I didn’t need the entire five minutes because I try to leave a living legacy everyday.

I wish more people would think about what they will leave behind at the end of their days. We all will leave a message behind whether its intentional or not. When our family, our children, our neighbors, or even our coworkers think of us there will be an impression. When our name comes up in conversation what will be the first thought that goes with our name? For some this may be a morbid concept, especially since no one likes to think about their own death. Yet, in the climate of this pandemic, its become almost impossible to avoid conversations about death.

This past Saturday, my husband and I had to split up to attend two separate funerals. One was for a young father and the other for a seasoned senior grandmother. Neither of them died from COVID. I attended the services for my friend of thirty years. I can remember the first time I met her. She was the type of person that brought love and sunshine to the room. My impressions of her from beginning to end were the same. She loved her family, her work, and her church. She lived the principles of her faith. The funeral services for this phenomenal woman was filled with testimonies to that effect. There was joy in the midst of our sorrow because of the way she lived. The deposits she left in our lives will never be forgotten. The young man also has an awesome epitaph. He was best known for being a loving father. You rarely saw him without seeing his son. It was so obvious that his son was the “apple of his eye” as the expression goes. I can only imagine that his young son will hear of his father’s love for the rest of his life.

If everyone thought about how they want to be remembered on a regular basis perhaps there would be less ugliness in our world. After all, no one really wants to be known as the person who cursed all the time, or the person who bad-mouthed women and children, or the person who was so mean that everyone hated them, or the person who was simply taking up space in the world without contributing anything. I know that sounds tough, but I’m from the generation whose ideal for education was to help everyone become a good citizen – a contributing citizen for the betterment of our society. Those contributions could be made on various levels: family, community, city, state, country, labor, volunteerism, military service, or one’s religious affiliation.

Perhaps thinking about our epitaph could take precedence over our political and social views. Beneath the bureaucracy there are people – people who need friends, people who need solutions, people who need hope, people who need people. I don’t pretend to have all the answers. All I really have is my life, a few meager talents, and daily choices to make.. I choose life. I choose to teach the young and serve the elders. I choose to put my energy into fostering hope and kindness. I choose to use my life as an investment into the lives of others. What are the choices you are making? Will your choices lead to a beautiful epitaph? I love this quote from Billy Sunday: “Live so that when the final summons comes you will leave something more behind you than an epitaph on a tombstone or an obituary in a newspaper.” The thing that’s most important is how you live your life on a day to day basis. We each have an opportunity to create a living epitaph.

At the end of the five minutes in the writer’s workshop, I wrote these words: Her Legacy Lives On!

In loving memory of Mrs. Deborah Ousler Hayes and Mr. Eric Nyantekyi

Through the Eyes of a Child

One of the reasons I love working with young children is because I get to experience the world from their point of view. Things that I take for granted are brand new to them – something to examine or experience or discuss. Their point of view makes me reexamine my own knowledge and encounters. Its a joy to see the wonder on their faces and to hear the excitement in their voices. In spite of adult pessimism and forecasts of gloom, children live in the moment and tend to enjoy the opportunities they have to play and participate in their surroundings.

Several weeks ago, I had an opportunity to monitor and assist a student who is battling brain cancer and its treatment. She was having trouble with her fine and large motor skills, yet she continued to try to participate in class. I admired her tenacity, as well as how the other students pitched in to help her. By mid afternoon we had to send her home because she kept losing her balance and falling. All we could do in that moment was pray. After two days she returned to school determined to join the other students in their daily routines.

This past week, my student was doing much better. The reports of her medical treatment were good and she appeared to be quite in control of her motor schools. She asked to go outside during recess, which was a rare occasion for her. I took her outside and to my amazement she began to run. Her arms were outstretched like an airplane. Her face was turned up to the sun, and her smile was broad and bright. She bent down and caressed the grass. She ran her hand along the bleachers. She hugged some of her classmates, and galloped across the field. Other students watched her. They clapped their hands and yell to one another, “Look at ________!” All of us were filled with gladness.

Later that afternoon, she wrote a few sentences about how beautiful the day was, and I thanked her for helping me see the beautiful day with the beautiful little girl enjoying herself. I imagine many people see her with pity, but she doesn’t see herself that way. She is resilient and optimistic. Her parents have instilled hope and confidence in her. Her classmates see her as part of the collective and allow her to be herself regardless of her setbacks or advances.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all could see each other as members of the same community? If we could see others through the eyes of a child – accepting their weaknesses and celebrating their victories – perhaps we would experience more joy. If we could live in the moment, rather than grumble and complain about the “what ifs.” Certainly, we all have circumstances that we are forced to deal with, even situations that we would have never chose for ourselves, but we do have the choice in how we choose to deal with our circumstances. Like my student, we can choose to make the best of each day and appreciate those who are in our lives to help us. We can take advantage of the ways we can enjoy the beauty in each day if we take a fresh look at all that we have and all that we are. We can find wonder and hope and confidence, and comradery if we take a minute to look at life through the eyes of a child.

Be tenacious! Be resilient! Be determined to enjoy every beautiful day of life!

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A Dream Deferred

I am certainly no Langston Hughes, nor do I presume to offer commentary on his great work. Yet, the title, A Dream Deferred, seemed to fit my thought process for this post. (ref. Langston Hughes “Harlem” 1951) After several conversations with my peers and young people around me, it would appear that the events of our society has put many dreams on hold. People are waiting for the Pandemic to end, for things to get back to normal, for bipartisan politics to take place, for their finances to improve, for a conducive opportunity, and a number of other things. Thus, the dreams are deferred, (postponed, put off for a later time) but for how long?

Can we really afford to put off our hopes and dreams and wait for a better time or season? If COVID 19 has taught me anything, it is not to count the days too far in advance. January 2020 was the beginning of a new year with promises to be better than the year before. We all were marching through the days taking so much for granted, and then March changed everything. No longer could we take our elderly family members for granted, not longer could we take our jobs and income for granted, no longer could we take our health or our friends for granted. Nothing was concrete, everything was elusive. The things we put off until spring, or until a more perfect opportune time never happened, mostly because we were in a “wait and see mode.” Here we are, more than a year later still waiting to see what’s going to happen next.

Don’t get me wrong, I too have some deferred dreams. The books I had hoped would be ready for publication are still on the shelf of my soul. It has not been easy to continue writing under the haze of grief and despair. Even blogging has been a challenge. Yet, those of us who could muster up the courage continued to press on. I am amazed at how many new businesses were launch during this time. I’m in awe of the people who decided that this was the time to achieve their goals in art, music, or literature. These people found hope in the midst of peculiar circumstances. They didn’t give up. They didn’t postpone. They met the challenge head on. They decided that now was as good of a time as any. One person declared, “If COVID takes me out, at least I will have given it my best shot!”

There’s a scripture that says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” (Proverbs 13:12 ESV; some people believe this was Langston Hughes muse) Without a dream or hope, we can become depressed and sick in heart and mind. Mental health disorders have been unmasked during this time of social distancing and sheltering-in. The news stories about new strains of the virus scare us. No one wants to return to wearing masks and distancing ourselves from love ones, but we have a say in how we will respond to the various messages of the airways. We can decide to seek out relationships, to achieve our goals, to be proactive in mental and emotional healing, and to work toward achieving our occupational and or vocational desires. We can be like those entrepreneurs who launched their dreams into reality and experienced life at a new level. We have the ability to change our immediate circumstances by allowing hope to come to the surface of our thoughts and acting on it.

In the last two months, I have been writing more. To my surprise, the more I write, the more I want to write. I started dreaming poems and stories again. I hope to bring two new works to publication this summer. Will I? I don’t know, but I do know I will be giving it everything I’ve got. Writing is a part of who I am. When I defer writing, I am putting my entire being on hold. That is not mentally or emotionally healthy for me. Are you postponing living? Are you putting off being your true authentic self? Have you put yourself (your hopes, goals and dreams) on hold?

For years I have been trying to get my mom to go to the salon with me for a pedicure, manicure, and a facial. For years I have heard her say she wished to have a professional arch her eyebrows and shape her nails, but she would never go. I finally got her to go to the salon on my birthday. She reluctantly got a pedicure with reflexology. Afterwards, she was so elated. She described her experience to me with a big smile on her face. She regretted not doing it before and pledged to go again and get the works. My mom is 89 years old and this was her very first trip to the salon. I tell you this story because your dream deferred doesn’t have to be a big thing. It can be a small thing, a typical thing, a thing that seems ordinary to others, but for you it is a desire that needs to be fulfilled. It can be the thing that makes your “tree of life” grow. It can be the thing that brings you satisfaction and perhaps joy as well.

Are your dreams deferred? Why? Do you have the ability within you or your scope of influence to change it? Is there someone in your life who can help you do whatever needs to be done to get there? I encourage you not to put off for a day which you have yet to see the things you can do today. That’s like trying to spend money you do not have. Cease the day!

I wish you health, wholeness, and joy as you strive to achieve your dreams.

From the publication of his first book in 1926, Langston Hughes was hailed as the poet laureate. This volume is a treasure-an essential collection of the work of a poet whose words have entered our common language. Amazon.com

Story Connections

I was listening to the radio yesterday; this guy was talking about how people relate to stories and anecdotes rather than statistics and algorithms. While it was a very interesting NPR program, it got me to thinking about why I’m so passionate about writing narrative poetry and short stories. Stories connect people. The common human experiences of love, pain, hope, dreams, sorrow, tragedies and victories connect us to one another regardless of the artificial divides we use to separate ourselves. That’s why the best stories are the ones where we can picture ourselves partaking of the events, adventures, or relationships.

I write to connect one generation to another – stories of ancestors, forerunners, and trailblazers. I write to remind the next generation that there is both good and bad in the struggle, and there a legacy of overcomers. I also encourage others to write their stories, if not for publication, for posterity, because people – our children and multiple generations to follow – will relate to your story, your community, your traditions, your struggle, and your survival.

We tell stories to share a part of ourselves. When you tell your story, it can’t be denied. All the listener or reader has to do is receive it. Whether they choose to believe it or not, they have been the recipient of your truth (or your perspective of the truth). Funny thing is, I have a hard time convincing people that all of my works of fiction are not about me. All stories are made to make the hearers/readers feel something. Sensory language appeals to their five senses and their emotions.

Two weeks ago, I had an opportunity to share a story with members of a writers’ group. The story is entitled Compatible Voices. It a story about finally meeting the man, a business associate, I had been talking to over the phone for a number of months. (This was some years ago.) Somewhere along the line, we began flirting during our calls. Over the phone, we seemed very compatible. Finally the day came when we had an opportunity to meet face to face. We were both excited and looking forward to making the connection that might have led to a more formal relationship. Unfortunately, I was a disappointment to him, and he was a disappointment to me. Our disappointments covered a gamut of character flaws and assumptions: fidelity, racism, stereotyping, integrity, and honesty were out of skitter.. The interesting thing in reading this story was the reactions of the group.

Some of the members of the group anticipated the ending and were already shaking their heads. Others were waiting and cried out in disdain at the end. One member expressed her sadness that this happened to me. Still others wanted more details beyond what I had written in the story. The story eventually led to a lively discussion about the intonation of voices and different dialects and colloquialisms. Although it was my story, it connected with everyone present which included multiple ages, races, and genders. The story became a conversation starter as well as a fellowship connection. Not only did we laugh and chat, but others shared stories from their past experiences. We had a great time.

You may have a story inside of you that has the same ability. Perhaps your story can heal some of your family divides. Perhaps your story can solve the mystery of someone’s behavior or attitude. Perhaps your story can bring laughter to a grim situation or bring back a happy memory in the midst of sorrow. Stories and anecdotes (and parables) can help others understand how you feel or where you are coming from in your opinions, traditions, intentions, and actions. Stories can open up worlds to help one generation see another generation’s perspective. Stories can encourage others to share their stories with you. Sharing stories can then become meaningful conversations.

The book I’m going to end this blog with today is entitled How to Heal Our Divides. As a member of the launch team, I had an opportunity to read the pre-published copy. I have to admit, I couldn’t put it down. It was so interesting to read the stories of over thirty contributors, each striving to make a positive difference in the world. While there is some content I found myself questioning and somewhat at odds with, I am excited that here are so many organizations out there working on the front lines to address the huge ills in our society. They are not just telling stories, they are doing the work that makes the stories, and those stories are making wonderful connections.

Take the time to share some of your stories with your family, your friends, your neighbors, and your co-workers. You may be surprised at their reaction. You may find that your lives are more relatable than you once thought. You may find the human connection that makes us all members of the Beloved Community.

Once upon a time . . .

Recent times have put a spotlight on the inequities, systems of oppression, and deep divisions in our society. How to Heal Our Divides highlights organizations that are taking real action to address these issues and heal divides in effective and practical ways. Take a look to see how you can help make the world a better place. Amazon.com