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Why Santa Skips Our House - A True Story

12/22/2017

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Growing up Christmas was a fairly big deal at my house. When my dad still lived at home it was even a bigger deal. Most Christmases it was just Momma and us four kids. Momma did a really good job at making it our Christmas.

One year it was tougher than most others. We were squeezing to get the juice out of everything, pinching pennies Momma called it. The best part of that Christmas was the soul-food Momma made and the tree. There were just four gifts under there Christmas morning and each was meant to be shared. Those gifts - two skateboards and two small TVs. Momma said you girls share and you boys share. And that was Christmas. Sharing.

I never rode that skateboard even once. The tree was pretty.

One year many years later we bought my son and daughter skateboards. They were more advanced now, wide, decorative, fast, great wheels. Those boards were amongst many many many gifts under the tree. The boards nearly overshadowed by the excess.

They rode those beautiful boards maybe once, twice in threat of a spanking. I think we had three trees that year. That was one of the last times we celebrated Christmas with physical gifts. Santa pretty much knows. They do it differently at their house.

So our family has our own tradition and it does not include a tree, or gift exchanges for ourselves. Our tradition has become about spending time together wherever we may go. This might be Australia, Vietnam, Paris, the Amazon, the Caribbean, Colorado or home in Georgia. Our Christmas is about creating the gift of lasting memories, bonds and connection.

There are no wish lists, no milk and cookies, no naughty or nice.

There is only laughter and tasting double dares and discussions about why we are put here. There are occasional souvenir finds, but on the whole, our Christmas morning is spent with our family being just that, family!

I nearly always find a way to cook.

And this bond, this sharing is the best tradition I can offer. Momma would be proud.
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Open Letter To My Sister Omarosa

12/21/2017

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Hello. I recently saw an interview that I mostly agreed with where you spoke of owning your truth. You said without that you will never grow, never know the best part of you. I am paraphasing because our approaches are different. Your words were peppered with approaches I usually avoid. Nonetheless, for those who could hear your intended words you created a teachable moment. For that appearance you were paid $10,000 under what you called a lasting decade-old Omarosa brand. What I am about to share is free. And it is also my truth.

There are so many fragments of ourselves that we deny for reasons only we know. Fragments that we shove to the back of our black consciousness. We appear to fear the very life behind them as if found out would make us less than. Their viability is ignored, shoved into an oblivious state of being, yes denied. On the surface we display an okayness with the world and with our boldness, our superior attitude and ability to out talk or outwit others. Our true and more intended essence that lies beneath is held hostage by none other than our confused selves. Secretly we curse that part of us that blocks our greatest blessing. We have a scared and cowardly side, but on the outside we curse others, especially those who recognize our tipping point. That point of truth that we are no better than they are. No better than those we pretend we exist to help.

We allow ourselves to take refuse in a somber state, refusing to listen to a voice inside us that puts the brakes on our stupid ways and if told in truth our satisfaction in convincing ourselves we must be better than them because how else could we have arrived at such a wonderful eltist space.

We keep others at a safe distance hoping not to be completely found out, exposed for our hyprosy as we claim to be "that one" selected to fix broken systems in our community. We tell ourselves quite convincingly that no one else can do it better, faster and with greater success. So we sit frozen swearing a not so quiet swear toward those who look like us and those who do not.

On rare occasions they fight back and when they don't we mistaken thier silence for complicity. They must be jealous or unable or ill equipped to keep up. It can't be that our actions have become inconsequential, long dismissed as self-serving, embarassing and yes annoying to those around us. We can't see that their silence is our gift. Being exposed by a community that looks like you as someone who is completely inconsequential would sting no matter the front you try to put on it.

We become our own worst enemy. It is not the fault of others on the battlefield that our victory has eluded us. Not at all. It is the fault of the soldier within. That part of us that refuses to believe that just because we sit at a bigger table does not mean we were invited there to feast. We convince ourselves yet again that we are special or chosen or the best suitable to win the battle ahead.

And then when we fail to score, not even punted or kicked a long shot we wonder why no one is cheering or left in the stand. What they remembered, those in our community is the effort behind our try. We want to claim our victory yet did nothing of what it takes to finish.

So as we leave the field defeated we watch as our community sits our final quarter out, waiting to see how "we" do it. And for what?

Now Omarosa, hear this from someone who chose to say WE versus YOU throughout in hopes that you might think I was talking about someone else. I mostly needed you to read this to the end.

So if you want something, then put your personal skin in the game. No matter what "that" is. We in the crowd just want to see your genuine pursuit of it for all.

And here is the big secret untold.......even when you came up short......many like me were rooting for you...........we just wanted to see the truth behind your TRY FOR US ALL!

So now my sister I leave you with this. And I must leave you to walk this out on your own.

Love us unconditionally; love yourself the same

Live your personal best

Show us you exist with a quality of excellence in your life

Remind yourself that no matter what ...... WE MUST...and WE TOGETHER!

Don't pawn "that" off on tomorrow. Don't hide behind that next $10,000 that may never come. Know that not all kisses are good kisses.
Become the song you sing about. Transcend the character you read about. Realize that voice you dream about!

No charge. Save your money for the work ahead. LW
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In Sight

12/6/2017

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In Sight

All she ever wanted was to be noticed. Not in the way you might think, though that would be nice too. She wanted to be seen. She wanted to know the universe anticipated her arrival each day. That who she was and brought with her was appreciated and valued in their sight.

She never wanted to be someone others made exscuses for. If only she did this or that. She grew tired of the way others seem to tolerate her voice in the room. Her daring to stand their toe toe with them. Why not she would tell herself. Why the hell not?

But they kept missing her, seeing through her, waiting for her to pause so they could skip over her and move on to someone else. Someone more deserving they likened. That someone in a tie with bass in the voice.

And while they were doing that. All that ignoring, all that pausing, all that ignorant apologizing. Each time they kept her out of sight, she was preparing her insights.

She was preparing insights that shape policy and laws and annual statement bottom lines. Insights that change communities and paid attention to those most out of sight and overlooked.

And whle they were plotting how to keep her busy and complacent but mostly out of the way, she broke through that jibberish.

And her insights made her a force to be reckoned with everywhere. All while they stoodby just in time to look up and ask, “Who is that and where did she come from?”

In her new position she kept them out of sight and without apology.

http://www.liveyourawesomelife.com/living-your-aweswome-life-one-oops-at-a-time/in-sight
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    La Detra Joy

    I love being around people. I would rather live falling than break my spirit never trying anything hard. This blog is about trying and retrying life.

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