I know that it's a nice, good-traffic-manners thing to let a car cut in front of you, especially when they're trying to turn or merge into a long line of traffic. Yes. Good thing to do. Definitely.
But when you let 3...4...5 cars cut in front of you during rush hour, that is NOT cool.
Have you considered how inconsiderate that is to the people BEHIND you? It's important to have equal respect for those drivers, too.
"Each one, let ONE" in. How about that? I'm just saying...
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
WRINKLED AND GRAY? NO WAY!
My hair stylist used to marvel at me. She said I was the only person she ever knew who was happy about getting gray hair. And I truly was.
When I saw the first two or three white strands popping up (not clustered, but randomly distributed throughout) I got visions of the silver crowns I'd seen on many mature, elegant women--much like the legendary singer, Nancy Wilson. I knew I wanted to look like them when I got to be their age, so I had no desire to hide or "yellow" my strands by covering them chemically. How enlightened am I, right?
Ummm...maybe not so much.
A few weeks ago, out of the blue, I noticed I had wrinkles. Quite a bit, too, especially around my eyes and on my cheeks when I smiled.
What in the world? How long had they been there? Why did I not notice them coming on before?
I promise you, I stared at my face in the mirror several times a day, for at least a week. I went up to my husband at least three separate times ordering, "Smile!" so I could compare my eyes and cheeks to his. I was starting to feel devastated. Violated, too. After all, everybody knows the saying "black don't crack". I began to examine the faces of all the older, African-American women around me. I knew it. I had more creases on my cheeks than any of them did!
I was on the verge of losing my centered, grounded, earth-mother status, when I stopped and took a moment to reflect on something important:
It was not photographs of Nancy Wilson that had made me excited about my grays. It was my Uncle Walter.
When I was little, my Uncle Walter was the ideal model of father and husband. He was generous to all, attentive to his children, and extremely funny. Always quick with the comeback. I remember whenever people teased him about his graying hair, he'd just stroke his mustache and say, "Silk strands of wisdom, baby. Silk strands of wisdom."
Deep down in my heart, that's how I always viewed my future grays. They would literally be my silk strands of wisdom: a sign that God had blessed me to age, learn and endure all of life's lessons and challenges; and that I had done so admirably and gracefully. That little phrase made me believe, subconsiously, that getting white hairs was exciting, something to be anticipated. It's the power of words that--
Duh!!! The power of words!
As of two days ago, I no longer have any wrinkles. I have "Etchings of Experience".
Silk Strands of Wisdom and Etchings of Experience. I am hot stuff!
Agape!
*Just consider this FEMnomenal Monday.
When I saw the first two or three white strands popping up (not clustered, but randomly distributed throughout) I got visions of the silver crowns I'd seen on many mature, elegant women--much like the legendary singer, Nancy Wilson. I knew I wanted to look like them when I got to be their age, so I had no desire to hide or "yellow" my strands by covering them chemically. How enlightened am I, right?
Ummm...maybe not so much.
A few weeks ago, out of the blue, I noticed I had wrinkles. Quite a bit, too, especially around my eyes and on my cheeks when I smiled.
What in the world? How long had they been there? Why did I not notice them coming on before?
I promise you, I stared at my face in the mirror several times a day, for at least a week. I went up to my husband at least three separate times ordering, "Smile!" so I could compare my eyes and cheeks to his. I was starting to feel devastated. Violated, too. After all, everybody knows the saying "black don't crack". I began to examine the faces of all the older, African-American women around me. I knew it. I had more creases on my cheeks than any of them did!
I was on the verge of losing my centered, grounded, earth-mother status, when I stopped and took a moment to reflect on something important:
It was not photographs of Nancy Wilson that had made me excited about my grays. It was my Uncle Walter.
When I was little, my Uncle Walter was the ideal model of father and husband. He was generous to all, attentive to his children, and extremely funny. Always quick with the comeback. I remember whenever people teased him about his graying hair, he'd just stroke his mustache and say, "Silk strands of wisdom, baby. Silk strands of wisdom."
Deep down in my heart, that's how I always viewed my future grays. They would literally be my silk strands of wisdom: a sign that God had blessed me to age, learn and endure all of life's lessons and challenges; and that I had done so admirably and gracefully. That little phrase made me believe, subconsiously, that getting white hairs was exciting, something to be anticipated. It's the power of words that--
Duh!!! The power of words!
As of two days ago, I no longer have any wrinkles. I have "Etchings of Experience".
Silk Strands of Wisdom and Etchings of Experience. I am hot stuff!
Agape!
*Just consider this FEMnomenal Monday.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A Really Great Day
Despite the dreary weather, today has been a great day!
First: My husband had surgery today, and everything went smoothly. We expect he'll be good as new in no time. YAAAAAY!
Second: It is my extreme honor to announce that I'm now a member of The Brown Bookshelf!
I (along with Olugbemiosola Rhuday-Perkovich) will now be working alongside Paula Chase-Hyman, Varian Johnson, Kelly Starling-Lyons and Don Tate, to increase the visibility of African American voices who write for today's young readers.
It's been a day full of excitement...and blessings. Thanks for letting me share!
First: My husband had surgery today, and everything went smoothly. We expect he'll be good as new in no time. YAAAAAY!
Second: It is my extreme honor to announce that I'm now a member of The Brown Bookshelf!
I (along with Olugbemiosola Rhuday-Perkovich) will now be working alongside Paula Chase-Hyman, Varian Johnson, Kelly Starling-Lyons and Don Tate, to increase the visibility of African American voices who write for today's young readers.
It's been a day full of excitement...and blessings. Thanks for letting me share!
Friday, October 30, 2009
The Vapors
This past summer, it really did throw me for a loop. Okay no, he didn’t know me from Eve, but I knew him. Very well and for a very long time. Then like a vapor—poof! He disappeared.
While I acknowledged his passing made me unbelievably sad, what I couldn’t figure out was why. I mean, MJ was inimitable and all...but to tell the truth, I hadn’t really been into him for over a decade. What was this grief truly all about? In searching my heart, I found the answer amid the very vapor that is my own life—and the lives of all the neglected souls for which I’ve ever cared.
You see, one of my greatest personal flaws is my proclivity towards “out of sight, out of mind”. There have been many, many wonderful relationships in my past that I’ve just let wither away, making absolutely no effort to maintain them—even with folks who tried their best to keep them alive. I’ve noted this flaw about myself in previous posts. But after this past summer, I once again renewed my commitment to do better.
And I am!
I joined Facebook, which has been an absolute blessing in helping me to connect with dear friends from my past. I also joined an online network for members of the church, and have reconnected with many loved ones that way. I even googled a few people, then reached out by telephone (a big deal for me, since I don’t much do phones)!
Most individuals have been warm and welcoming. Some have been a little cold. Some, I suppose, have been trying to figure out why I was even calling. I mean, after all this time!
This (I am repeatedly telling myself) is to be expected. Therefore, I will NOT let my fear of rejection stifle my progress!*
Back at age 14, I felt I was so different from all the other girls because I’d think to myself, “I don’t want to marry him. I just want to be his friend. He needs someone who’ll be a real and true friend, and I could be that for him.” Of course, I never did get to be his friend...and I’m not sure if he left this Earth having any true ones at all.
But today, I can be SOMEBODY’S friend! And it might be someone who doesn’t feel they have one at the present time. Perhaps my call...or my email...or my Facebook message, may be that pinpoint of light, reviving the hope in one quietly dying soul.
Or it might just bring a smile to an old friend’s face, like the many that have been gracing mine lately. Either way, I don't want another soul I've ever cared about, to leave this life without knowing that I still do.
So watch out you blasts from my past...and my present...even my near future. You're probably next!
Agape!
*Umm...Please don’t hang up on me.
While I acknowledged his passing made me unbelievably sad, what I couldn’t figure out was why. I mean, MJ was inimitable and all...but to tell the truth, I hadn’t really been into him for over a decade. What was this grief truly all about? In searching my heart, I found the answer amid the very vapor that is my own life—and the lives of all the neglected souls for which I’ve ever cared.
You see, one of my greatest personal flaws is my proclivity towards “out of sight, out of mind”. There have been many, many wonderful relationships in my past that I’ve just let wither away, making absolutely no effort to maintain them—even with folks who tried their best to keep them alive. I’ve noted this flaw about myself in previous posts. But after this past summer, I once again renewed my commitment to do better.
And I am!
I joined Facebook, which has been an absolute blessing in helping me to connect with dear friends from my past. I also joined an online network for members of the church, and have reconnected with many loved ones that way. I even googled a few people, then reached out by telephone (a big deal for me, since I don’t much do phones)!
Most individuals have been warm and welcoming. Some have been a little cold. Some, I suppose, have been trying to figure out why I was even calling. I mean, after all this time!
This (I am repeatedly telling myself) is to be expected. Therefore, I will NOT let my fear of rejection stifle my progress!*
Back at age 14, I felt I was so different from all the other girls because I’d think to myself, “I don’t want to marry him. I just want to be his friend. He needs someone who’ll be a real and true friend, and I could be that for him.” Of course, I never did get to be his friend...and I’m not sure if he left this Earth having any true ones at all.
But today, I can be SOMEBODY’S friend! And it might be someone who doesn’t feel they have one at the present time. Perhaps my call...or my email...or my Facebook message, may be that pinpoint of light, reviving the hope in one quietly dying soul.
Or it might just bring a smile to an old friend’s face, like the many that have been gracing mine lately. Either way, I don't want another soul I've ever cared about, to leave this life without knowing that I still do.
So watch out you blasts from my past...and my present...even my near future. You're probably next!
Agape!
*Umm...Please don’t hang up on me.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Poetic Quickies: THE SILENT CRY
See the loving heart
That's lonely and neglected
Die. One dying soul.
*Poetic Quickies: Poems drafted in 10 minutes or less.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Sweet, Juicy PEACHES
PEACHES by Jodi Lynn Anderson is a Rock Star I just happened across in the library.
YA novel writers, put this one on your required reading list.
At the Darlington Peach Orchard, three teenaged girls find themselves thrown together by happenstance: Murphy, the genius and sarcastic and "worldly" one, is there to complete her community service sentence. Leeda--polished, popular, and perfect--is banished there for being a perpetual disappointment to her mother. Birdie, the most self-conscious, yet by far the most self-confident of the three, is there to save her entire future. And of course, what would a story called "Peaches" be, without something juicy. Like cute boys.
If you think these characters might be cliche, trust me. They aren't. What Anderson does so skillfully, is to create characters that are completely and brilliantly authentic. As a writer, I found her ability to do that breathtaking.
I am not a gusher by nature, so when I say I was sad and disappointed when this wonderful story ended, it's no hyperbole. Anderson literally had me captivated on page one, and I never once lost my excitement about turning the page. These girls are real. The situations they find themselves in are real. Their decisions and reactions--while not always wise--are real.
I can't tell you how much stuff got neglected until I finished reading this book. The fantastic thing is (imagine drumroll here)...
I found out there are two sequels! They are THE SECRETS OF PEACHES and LOVE AND PEACHES. I do hope that Anderson was able to sustain the authentic voice and skillful writing in these as well. Once I get my hands on them, I'll be sure to let you know.
In my opinion, PEACHES is best suited for grades 9 and above, as there are some (again--my opinion) mature themes for teens who are not yet enmeshed in the world of boys and stuff. (BTW, this is probably chick lit, but SOOOOOO skillfully done!). No sex occurs, but some physical encounters are alluded to. I also recommend discussing this book with your teen afterward. Books like these can be a great catalyst for deeper conversations, a natural way to share your life lessons and wisdom, and to reinforce your family's values.
In the meantime, you who are fully adult, get thee to a bookstore or library and read PEACHES! Like, today.
Agape!
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