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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...


Tippin My Scales

Freedom Riders: American Experience is on in the background, after watching it last night too. The Twitterverse was all abuzz watching in awe at the courage & commitment the Freedom Riders had, their faith in this greater purpose to impact change in these Disjointed United States. I’m listening again, in the same addictive state that I’ve watched Eyes On the Prize, a series of other documentaries, and movies like Rosewood, X, Roots, Brother From Another Planet, Sugar Cane Alley, and Sankofa…to name a few. The way my blood boils is an uncomfortable reminder that I yearn for that more is goin’ on out here & more action is required.

The 1st place action is required is in our own lives. Like I always say, I pay attention to the road signs. While they sometimes point in directions I think I don’t want to go in, I’ve come to realize that none of this is accidental, IMO. I have run up against the people I’m supposed to, in situations both positive & negative, in order that I may complete the next phase of my metamorphosis. If I listen to my own English, it’s not hard to pinpoint the day or moment when I spoke something into existence. Here I stand at the precipice of my tomorrow & it feels as though my future involves a lot of breaks.

Fear speaks loudly. Even when I’m clear that I must move on my own behalf, the unknown is hard to fathom. Decisions have to be made & fastly, but my body is beginning to slow from the constant bludgeoning my spirit has taken over the last 9 months specifically, and 4 years generally. It’s hard to be your own walking stick, triage nurse & personal cheerleader while handling all the other responsibilities both part & not a part of your job description. Somebody’s cup of Gatorade is forgotten, the energy bar eaten by someone it wasn’t intended for. It’s all getting to be too much. Grace Under Fire is 1 thing, Grace In The Inferno is something else. I’m strapping up with my rescue kit & I’m going into the flame to pull Me out.

After the skin grafts heal, it’ll be time to sew another cape. Cloaked & ready I’ll be stepping out on faith & figuring out how to bring my vision & my mission together & provide the avenues for my Brownins I was born to provide. My mission is larger than an address & bigger than the group of people who’ve committed to turning the other facial cheek & ass cheek to keep from seeing & speaking the truth about the atrocity of how we’re sacrificing our young for the advancement of people who have no concern for them.

I ache & I cry, at random uncontrollable moments, before audiences I’ve never intended for my tears. My stomach turns, bilious truth settling in. Acceptance is NOT always comfortable.

My future is tomorrow & you’re either in or you’re in the way.

Watch me move.

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