The Internet can be a cruel and unusual abyss of half-cocked opinions and bargain basement analysis, especially when it comes to Black wom...
...and this too shall pass.
Mommas pass this bit of advice down from their mommas, who clearly got it from theirs. It's so simple and short you could almost miss the depth of this wisdom. If you ever get too caught up in yourself, it can pass you by at blinding speed. By the time your heels finish spinning, you'll settle in a new spot with amnesia.
Or maybe I'm just tellin' on myself.
What's this...Wednesday? To remember the specific happenings of last week, Wednesday, I'd probably have to track back through my blog archives. Sad. With each year, the things I try to hang on to, want to hang on to, and need to hang on to dwindle. Honestly, all I remember is if something stung. If it didn't...well... Sad. I know that last week I was HEATED like the East Coast has been for the last 2 days. I know that I was on vacation. I know the match was struck leading in to my break. I also know that despite my anger, smiles crept through and brightened my perspective. Good. I fought to hang on to the pain though. See, I'd been told by more than 1 someone that I needed to feel the pain evenly in order to be able to purge my system of it--and that it might be later rather than sooner that I'm actually able to say I'm over it. Like I said, I tried to hang on to the pain. I couldn't. Moments of anger would creep up. But I couldn't stay mad or sad unless I thought of why I was mad or sad in the first place, which wasn't at the front of my frontal lobe.
This is where I think I keep going wrong. I keep walking, despite the cracks in the sidewalk I keep tripping over. There's been a time in my life where I'd be immobilized, frozen solid and stock still in place, scared to death to shed pain in case there was some more waiting for me on the other side. Who the hell needs that, right? I've shed that though. Resilience is something I've picked up on my travels. I learned how to shake the dirt off from a Man who calls himself Grinch. Some real foul shit would knock him off his block, he'd teeter, and get back up. Damn near immediately. It was a rather impressive magic trick. I asked to be his apprentice. Instead of showing me how to convince onlookers that I'd sawed someone in half, he showed me how to K.I.M. with a smile on my face [as often as possible.] I believe in that smile, it has rescued me from drowning better than any flotation device. I am forever indebted.
A week after the fact, I'm clear. Clear that I was hurt. Clear that I put myself in the way of a steamroller and got rolled. Clear that nobody can scrape me up off the road but me. Clear that ONLY I can choose the next path I walk. Clear that I might meet another steamroller on the next path [though scared to death & totally NOT ready to meet the next emotional trauma head on.] I'm also clear that I'm no longer the person who caresses pain, holds it close and allows it to seduce me. I can't force it to stay where it isn't wanted. From time to time I will snack on the creamy, silken texture of familiar hurt, but I can't have it as the sole staple in my diet. After all, this body goes wrong if I don't treat it right.
I'm laughing quietly to myself. The "ouchie" moved on, and I missed its EXIT. Talking about it still makes me wince, but I have less need to talk about it at all, and I like that. I'm working on flushing my system totally of the Him that's at the root of all of this. It's easier to put him down so I can make room to carry Me. I blinked twice, and this too had passed. I usually forget this but, IT may come back again, but next time I'll try really hard to remember that it doesn't have to, and WILL NOT linger for long. I ain't got time.
Watch me move.