I watch a lot of TV, spend an enormous amount of time on the internet especially social media sites. I do not regularly read the newspaper or news magazines. I do browse "gossip" magazines and glamour magazines. I especially like the magazine "O". I like it because it covers a range of topics that interest me, I  particularly like hearing the stories of people who have overcome big obstacles in their lives and are now thriving. I like these type of stories because they are not "perfect" and don't always end with the big red bow wrapped around them. Sometimes they end with a question mark. Just like aspects of my life. I find myself rooting for people I have never met and probably never will. Meeting them in person for me is never the point. When I "meet" them on the pages I feel like there is always something in their story I can take away and learn from. These are the type of stories I relish in. The type that are raw and describe a bumpy journey with uncertain outcomes. Just like my life. I can really identify with the underdog turned champion protagonist.

This brings me to the purpose of this blog posting. I recently heard, read, saw, and re saw, reheard and overheard the Jay Z and Solange brawl on the elevator story. I am providing a link for those who just have to know more http://www.npr.org/2014/05/14/312470817/beyonce-jay-z-and-solange-walk-into-an-elevator . Some things I consider none of my business and this is one.

The thing that bothers me most about this story is how fixated everyone in the world seems to be "this week" on "this story". I mean the encounter was on a closed elevator among family members lasting about 3 minutes long. This elevator exchange has become leading news on almost every major news network online and offline. This intended private exchange has taken over the stories that really should matter. The ones we should really care about and really are our business. Now the world is waiting with baited breath to learn the "why" behind the brawl. There is no shortage of commentary dissecting the implications of their unfortunate exchange.

Something is wrong with this to me. What kind of culture have we birthed in this nation? When did it become our business to be on that elevator with them?

I will tell you the elevator we should be on. The elevator that leads to answers to where over 200 Nigerian school girls are being held. Let's all get together, push that button, and get that mystery fired up!

If you are the by product of a single parent, Kevin's words to his mom are your anthem. We are a tribe who drank his Kool-Aid. A band of brothers who fully understands the levity of his every word. Even when he paused to find the words, his face and emotions said it all. Any one of us could have stepped into his shoes and finished his speech. We have our own individual experiences but we wear the same badge. Our mom is our rock. Sometimes it is our dad who raised us. But mostly, it is mom who stepped in and stepped it up to get us through and over the humps in life. It is no wonder we love so hard, try so hard, drive ourselves so hard. We learned from the very best!

“I don’t think you know what you did. You had my brother when you were 18 years old. Three years later I came out. The odds were stacked against him. Single parent with two boys by the time you were 21 years old.

“Everybody told us we weren’t supposed to be here. We moved from apartment to apartment by ourselves. One of the best memories I have is when we moved into our first apartment. No bed, no furniture, and we just all sat in the living room and hugged each other because we thought we made it.

“When something good happens to you, I don’t know about you guys, but I tend to took back to what brought me here. You woke me up in the middle of the night in the summer times. Making me run up a hill. Making me do push-ups. Screaming at me from the sidelines at my games at eight or nine years old.

“We weren’t supposed to be here. You made us believe. You kept us off the street, put clothes on our backs, food on the table. When you didn’t eat, you made sure we ate. You went to sleep hungry. You sacrificed for us. You’re the real MVP.”

To all the other momma VIPs out there. Happy Mother's Day! We love you more than all  the words invented. Sincerely, your babies.

Stop belly aching! Where has complaining ever got you anyhow? It draws a crowd the first hundred times perhaps. But after a point, to put it bluntly, it gets old. Even if no one around you is willing to say it "to" you, they are saying it "about" you. What they are saying is this, the problem isn't your problems, the problem is likely "you." Ask yourself, am I on the victim side of this issue or am I the fixer? If you are the victim... time and time and time again the problem is an inside job not an outside job. Follow the trail of crocodile tears and you will find the real problem. Pull back the curtain on your life and you may realize you are allowing yourself to be the underdog, the victim, the damsel in distress over and over and over and over again. There is a saying, people will only treat you the way you allow them to treat you. CHANGE YOUR TUNE CHANGE YOUR LIFE!  

Treat people how to treat you. Teach them how to talk to you. Demonstrate to them how to engage with you. Layout your list of non-negotiables.  Articulate your value system.  Draw the line at X . Disconnect from Y. Disassociate from Z.

Don't apologize for wanting to surround yourself with people like you. You get one life. Don't spend your time apologizing for other people's behavior toward you. Give them a chance, but give them ONE CHANCE. When people show you who they are believe them the first time.

Change your tune, change your life. And this may mean taking up a new broom to sweep away old garbage. Change your tune, change your life!

There is better waiting for you on the other side of the victim side to you. Don't waist another minute in woe is me. Turn the channel in your life. Embrace the victor in you. You wear it well.

There are few things more painful than being treated badly by someone you know, knows better. That means only one of a couple of things, 1) they don't care about how they are treating you 2) they have no incentive to change how they are treating you. There is an old saying, when one knows better they do better. How about that? Here are my thoughts directed to the one who we know knows better but does not act better. To the one who either does not care or has no incentive to behave better.

Dear Do Better;

Every time you act with indifference toward me it stings. Be your infringement big or small it leaves an indelible mark on my spirit. This includes the times you walk into a room and don't acknowledge me. The times I am dressed to the nines and you look right past me. Those times you find me alone and sulking and you chastise me with your eyes. It stings. For those times I take a few extra minutes to smell just so, from the finger tips to the nape of the neck fragrant fresh for you.

But you ask where the kids are or what's for supper? You ask if your mail came or did you miss any calls? It stings and the sting quickly absorbs that fragrance that was meant just for you. For those times I styled my hair just so, I wore that dress you said you really liked, with those much too tight high heels that have a very small window before I have to take them off. All intended for you. Manufactured for those few moments you will look at me just so and tell me exactly what you are thinking. When you don't respond to all of this, it stings. It mostly stings because we both know, you know better. We know because a long time ago in what seems like forever you did better, always.

Did it ever occur to you that my needs have not changed? There is no quota on the number of times I want to be told I am pretty, that I smell good, that you like "this" dress. I like to hear your "hellos" when you enter the room. I would like to know that I come before any call, any mail delivery, and even before the children I gave to you. Regrettably, I am left stuck and believing you know better. You know exactly what I want but for your own reasons you keep it to yourself.

There is no quota on the number of times I have made your supper, brought you a plate, turned back the covers on your side of the bed, ran you a hot bath. No quota on the times I have taken a message for you, stacked and sorted your mail neatly. No quota on the times I have stood in for you at the parent teacher conference, Johnny's softball game, the parent/child Gingerbread competition. I did all these things and more because I am better than all those times you knew better but didn't.

So in closing, I leave your with this. I want better. I need better, so we can be better together.

Signed, Stung and in need of better, again.

It is easy to think we our it! That our existence means more than it does. That are very presence in our earthly skin transcends time or measurement. That we were created as some supernatural being. That we are indispensable. What a pity not a word of that is true, not now, not ever. And especially not in our worldly flesh. Nope we are temporary, here for a time. And if we are really tapped into the "why" behind our time "here" we can really learn to use our lives mightily. I believe the better we spend our time on earth the longer we are on earth, be it in the flesh or in spirit. In the memories of man and the hearts of nations. I believe that is our real purpose in life, to leave something bigger than us behind. That is to find ways to live our life so we never really leave. This causes us to think bigger than the now in our actions and in our thinking. A simple spectrum to look through is to ask ourselves, "Is this the way I want to be remembered?"

It took me years to look outside of my small circles. I never used to think how my words or deeds could affect positively or negatively a room full or people, a classroom full of students or a meeting full of conservatives. It really did not dawn on me that I could change people's behavior and guide people's thinking. That is not to say I had to do anything profound either. I did not have to invent anything patented or build something original. No. I just had to reflect the qualities I hoped to project on others. In other words, I had to live that which I was hoping to leave behind.

People are watching. Your friends, family, children, spouse, co-workers, bosses, Wal-Mart check out girl....all watching. I pray they see the Jesus in you. And I pray that you are leaving bread crumbs along the way that reflect those things that are bigger than you.

I have come across a lot of people who have more than I do. More money, more trivia answers, more dance moves, more shoes, more street sense. I have met people with more humor,  more musical talent, more access to VIP passes.

But I have never met anyone, ever who has more time in their day. In fact, if you are alive and breathing then you have what I have, 24 hours.

It is not until I began approaching half a century that I thought much about how I was spending my time, especially the time in my every day. I don't consider myself a morbid person, but I do think more often about my mortality as I knock on the door of my fiftieth year on earth. The question I have begun asking myself quite often is...ARE YOU CHEATING YOUR BEST SELF? By asking myself this question in this way, forces me to ponder the quality of how I spend my time, daily.

When I got really honest with myself, I had to answer in truth, YES. In too many ways to count, I had been holding back, cheating on myself. When I took an inventory of my interests, my desires, my passions, my wants, and then began to put a check mark next to those that I was either living daily or working a plan against, I came up short.

In my twenties I thought I would live forever. I lived like it too. In my thirties, I lived for the time I could start a family. I did not think much about myself. In my forties, I thought a lot about my career and how much money I could make (not necessarily save) in order to give my family a good life. As I enter my 50s, I started to think very selfishly about me. Now when I have a choice between working more or doing something for my best self.... I choose the latter, and that has become for me non-negotiable. ME FIRST!

I felt bad at first, guilt really. But one thing I have learned is I get one life. I get only the gift of 24 hours in each day. Everything around me is going to move up and on in one form or another. I get one ride on planet earth. And I refuse to cheat the planet of experiencing my true self and I refuse to cheat myself of experiencing the vastness of this beautiful planet!

I wish I would have come to this eureka moment a decade ago when I was working so hard for things, for money, for titles. That may have led to less money in the bank today, but I dare say it would have provided me with more time spent discovering my best self.

I really like my best self, wish I would have met her sooner!

When he first asked for my hand I thought I would melt. Amongst all the other beautiful, angelic, smart, graceful women of the universe, he chose me to be his dance partner. He had walked over to me. I knew from the moment he took my hand in his it was going to be a magical dance. It was just the way his hand felt in mine. His touch gentle but firm, his grasp warm and protective. With my hand in his hand we began our dance. And as the world stood still, he drew me in real close and we danced. I could feel his energy. It excited me. His scent tantalized me. His strength mesmerized me. I was in a perfect space swallowed up in glee, spellbound by moments he created when he reached for my hand.

The first few moves were awkward. I tried to follow his lead. I tried really hard to surrender to his steps giving in to wherever his strides led us across that floor. Just when it seemed we were getting somewhere, finding our rhythm, something always happened to throw us out of rhythm and temporarily disrupt our flow. It seemed at these times we weren't gliding, we were stumbling. I tried to slow down, wait for him to gain his composure and start our dance again. I kept whispering to him, softly, gently, "I am sorry, go ahead, you take the lead." And we would try again.

And for awhile we moved beautifully. When our dance felt as though it could not get any better, I would usually try something new, thinking, believing I could make it even better. Without fail, I would end up walking on his feet and inevitably we stumbled.

I told him I was just trying to be helpful. Just trying to sweeten the melody of our sway. He kept silent never saying a word. And we danced. The longer we moved, the more I tried to lead, the slower we became. Where once we had glided synchronized in our oneness, now there was a widening gap between us. It was much harder to hold on to one another. But we danced and slowly we both became silent.

It was harder now to feel. Our dance had become one of mechanical execution. Small gestures imitating the act of dance. He had become totally withdrawn and though I could still see his hand in mine I could not feel it. I was still dressed like a dancer on the outside, but I felt alone without my partner on the inside. We both danced in small robotic movements to music we could no longer hear.

So one day, I took off my shoes and placed them neatly in a corner of our dance floor. I walked over to him and gently took him by the hand. Neither of us spoke. As he rose, I looked up at him, placed one hand in his and tenderly placed his other hand on the small of my back. I drew my body close to his careful to close the gap between us.

Slowly, I laid my head upon his shoulder and I wept. And then I waited..........and I waited........and after a time we began to dance in silence. As he took control, our bodies spoke and our hands began to sweat. And by-God we danced.

Wounds must be kept open until they can heal. If covered up they may remain infected or can easily become reinfected especially if the original infection never fully healed or was not treated. I am not a doctor but I do know a thing or two about hurting and slow healing.

My father left home when I was in kindergarten. He went to Vietnam and the next time I saw him I was thirteen years old. My mother never remarried. That is not to say she was ever without a man in her life. My parents married young, before either of them could legally drink or vote. My mom mostly married my father to get out of her house. My dad married my mother because he had never met anyone prettier, spunkier, or more sexy. He was totally taken aback by her, as was half the town where they lived.

At age 25, my mother wrote my dad a Dear John letter when he was away in Vietnam. It broke his heart in a million pieces. For years thereafter she told us children she had no idea where he was living. I believed her.

I grew up fatherless. My mother never spoke of my father so I crafted my own stories about him and why he was not in my life. None of my stories were good and none were refuted. What I did not know then was my father was afraid to contact us. He feared most that getting back in touch with his four children would reopen the heartbreak he carried from his relationship with my mom. It had taken years to get over her.

I became close friends with my father when I was in college. I was the only of his children who fostered a close relationship with him back then. Over time, I began to trust him to be there for me in my life even though he had long since remarried. One Christmas, he either forgot to call me or just didn't call me. Though I was 28 years old, it was just like I was in kindergarten again. My wound opened up and I could feel all the infection that had never healed. I was so hurt and so angry. I felt rejected by someone I had allowed back into my life. Who I really needed to be all in.

Along with my fiancé, I went to see my father to tell him to his face that I wanted nothing more to do with him. I also told him I did not want him to walk me down the aisle. He excused himself and came back with a shoebox. In this shoebox were yellowing letters most of which had been written and not mailed to judges, my mom, and us children. Also in this shoebox were hundreds of moneyorder receipts for money he had been sending to my mom over the years as child support. Through those unsent letters I was now reading, I could tell my father had been trying his best to heal and to be forgiven.

I had a difficult time in relationships. I would sabotage them just to see if "that man" would leave me. Sometimes they did. Then one day my now husband called me on it. He says you are always testing me, testing us. I am not going anywhere and until you believe that you will never heal and we will never be okay.

Seeing those letters began my healing. They showed me my dad did care, he had always cared. In some ways he had never left, at least his heart hadn't. Those letters were just enough to allow me to peel back the covering every once in awhile and let my wound breathe. Eventually I was able to close my eyes, clench my teeth real tight and snatch away the covering giving myself a real chance at healing. What I got in return was a daddy and a friend. Today there are scars but not much memory of the pain.

I have tried to understand the actions of both my parents. As a parent myself, I realize that there are very difficult choices that are made in love, out of love, for the preservation of self-love and for the love of others.

I have chosen not to judge. Rather I choose to love with forgiveness while knowing there may be yet more pain to come. We are not immune to it.

A very big thank you to my loving dad and friend who supports me in sharing our story. We hope it helps someone else through their pain journey.

http://www.liveyourawesomelife.com/living-your-aweswome-life-one-oops-at-a-time/wounds-that-wontheal-those-letters

God will never put more on us than we can stand to bear. Is this true? We live much of our lives coming out of struggle, entering a struggle or in the middle of some sort of struggle or another. These struggles we call tests; a way of building our character, our resilience and our faith. No one likes trials. Our problems take a lot out of us. They require a lot of us to come through unscathed and sometimes unscathed is an impossibility. Thank God there is a promise that covers us. It is not in the form of a specific verse in the bible. You will not find any mention of God telling us that HE will not give us more than we can bear. There is no such verse to speak of. However, it is written that God takes on our burdens and helps us through them. GOD'S WORD® Translation Psalm 55:22
Turn your burdens over to the LORD, and he will take care of you. He will never let the righteous person stumble.

So while we struggle and work our way through our most troubling times rest assured  these burdens are ours to climb, placed in our path to build something in us anew. We are not being punished, we are being awakened to another part of us that is being birthed. Trials find all of us. We must climb each troubled mountain knowing that the Lord is with us and will never leave us alone as we reach for the other side.
New Living Translation Deuteronomy 31:8
Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD will personally go ahead of you. He will be with  you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.

This is HIS promise and that is good enough for me.

Living the good life huh? Things going well in your corner? Feeling good about you and yours? All the columns adding up emotionally, physically, financially, morally, spiritually, and in any other "lly" you desire? Well excellent and good....so very good for you! You are being blessed beyond measure. You are living in a very good space. You have been shown great favor and that my dear is a wonderful wonderful thng. So now the question we all are asking of you, "Are you giving back in at least as many ways as you are receiving?" Are you showing thanks by giving? Because if you are not then what was your blessing all about to begin with?

Luke 12:48
King James Version (KJV) 
48 But he that knew not, and did commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to whom men have committed much, of him they
will ask the more.

People who have more should do more. I don't mean give it away, I mean share it away. Whether you have a certain talent, expertise, physical resources, yes sometimes money, transportation, education, the gift of council, scripture, song, discernment, patience, tolerance, or whatever your blessings might be.....share them away in a thankful way.

God will keep refilling your tank I promise. Because when you are obedient to HIS word  and live under the mantra, "to much who is given, much is expected" then you will never be able to beat God's giving to you in return.

THE PARABLE OF THE FAITHFUL SERVANT
The Lord said, "Who then is the faithful and wise steward, whom his lord
will set over his household, to give them their portion of food at the right
times? Blessed is that servant whom his lord will find doing so when he comes.
Truly I tell you, that he will set him over all that he has. But if that servant
says in his heart, 'My lord delays his coming,' and begins to beat the
menservants and the maidservants, and to eat and drink, and to be drunken, then
the lord of that servant will come in a day when he isn't expecting him, and in
an hour that he doesn't know, and will cut him in two, and place his portion
with the unfaithful. That servant, who knew his lord's will, and didn't prepare,
nor do what he wanted, will be beaten with many stripes, but he who didn't know,
and did things worthy of stripes, will be beaten with few stripes. To whomever
much is given, of him will much be required; and to whom much was entrusted, of
him more will be asked.

My mom used to say, "If I want something done, I best do it myself." Usually when she said this she was completely exasperated by whatever situation she was consumed. "If I want something done, I best do it myself." 

There is so much truth in this statement. It can be frustrating waiting on someone else to make a decision, take some sort of action, or respond in some way or another to you. Ever been in a situation where someone else held all the cards, financially, emotionally, physically? How does that feel? Well to me it feels heavy, makes me feel dependent, restrained, hostage and weak; when I really want to feel empowered, free and abled. Interestingly, society teaches us that it is okay for instance for a woman to look to a man for her security, protection, financial stability .The bible speaks to a woman submitting to her husband. Little girls grow up looking to someday marry a man who will take care of them. I think whatever works for each individual is their business. Me forcing my point of view on you does nothing more than add to the very things I profess to despise, e.g. restrictions.  Again, I don't take issue with anyone's ideology in theory. I do feel a strong unquenchable desire to say that EVERY ONE SHOULD AT LEAST HAVE THE INCLINATION TO DO FOR SELF  even if they never choose to exercise it. The point I am making is we should always preserve our CHOICE, and the only way to do this is to always be prepared to take care of yourself and your core needs without having to depend on anyone else. Call it your personal RAIN CHECK for self. Here are some suggestions for your RAIN CHECK: 

1. Get an education at least to the level that could translate into employment that
   would support your independence for at least a year. 
2. Don't invest in something (home, timeshare, real estate, bank account) with anyone you do not have an enforceable contract. Yes this includes being married before surrendering your whole self.
3. Always keep growing. Don't settle. Work as hard on developing your spirit as you do your worldly relationships. Your spirit will always be the first to tell you it is time to move on. Listen, learn, live.

Ever bought something and convinced yourself it looked real, felt real, and could be passed off as real enough. Ever talked about this thing as if it was as real as real could get, even going out of your way to convince others that you got a great steal a great bargain on this real thing of yours. Then ever watch this thing become less real over time and you do whatever you can to continue to pass it off as real. You continue to talk it up. You clean it up some. You try to fix it where it needs to be fixed just so you can continue feeling that it is real to you. The thing is fixed up things look just like that, fixed up! Nothing real in that. And even among those that you have worked so hard to convince that you have the "real deal", they know. They may even have their own stuff they are in the middle of fixing up. You see unreal passing as real has the same universal look and feel. It is usually not around when it is most needed because it can't be. It is usually being worked on at the time.

Ever begin to get that nagging lingering feeling that this thing of yours isn't lasting, was never lasting. That the only real thing about it was your saying it was real. And the only lasting part was all the time that has passed. The real deal is this. If it wasn't real to begin with it will not last. Real things are made to last, they are just made that way.

Stop pretending and begin investing in lasting and real outcomes for you! Nothing unreal in that.

There is a place in the universe for everyone and everything made good. From the ant on the ant hill to the flickering star in the far off galaxy. Each belongs here and claims its rightful place.
Their importance we may never know, may never acknowledge, but this does not diminish their existence and purpose. In a million lifetimes they may never hear thank you or "that a girl"! Their toil lost on us because we never stopped to notice. Never bothered to care to know more than we stumbled upon. How brave and lonely this ant and this star must feel pretending they are not bothered by not feeling relevant. They carry on doing what they must to forge a façade of contentment, while burying sorrow behind cracked joy and misery.

What a pity neither will reach their pinnacle of awesome because we didn't bother to notice them, to wonder, care or inquire about them. We saw simply that they looked busy. They appeared resolute in their work coming and going each day. What a paradox that they tried so gallantly to be noticed; working away at the ant hill or brightening the night sky yet always lost beside all those other ants and brighter shining stars. Never noticed just in front of our blind eyes and covered hearts.

I wonder how our life would be different if we looked this time for that one ant or that dimly flickering star and showed a bit of care? How might we become transformed together? Seems doable.

Life Lessons on Learning, Growing, and Loving
Words spoken in haste are usually more about the person who spoke them than you. They say the words and are blissfully unaware of how their words may have the  power to hurt others. These days people are less likely to think about others before they spout off because they are SELF focused. It's all about the DRAMA.  It's over, we are no longer friends etc.... it's all about the winning an upper hand in any kind of relationship, being the dumper rather than the dumpee....  and REAL life should be so much more than that, the quality of our very close relationships depends on it. Joan

Words have such power.  I try my best to think before I speak and to not say things that I may regret but during the heat of the moment things can get out of hand sometimes and we all say things we don't mean.  I think being willing to accept you made a mistake and admitting that spoke in haste is half the battle.  Being willing to say "I am sorry" and meaning it is important.  Rosie 

Those words sprung out of your mouth before you could catch them...you regret saying those hurtful words...now the person is so hurt and devastated they do not want to be in your presence...Or you had hurtful words thrown your way...you are surprised and hurt by the person who you thought had your best interests at heart could be so cruel and inhumane.   You feel like distancing yourself from the person in question because of the hurt and pain stabbing in your heart...

You can't take back those hurtful words.  The person in question acts like they never said those words.  Which is worse...hurtful words or actions?  

You may need to assess your relationship with the person in question very carefully.  Sometimes the person in question can comeback later rather than sooner remorseful but it can be too late.  It is up to you and you alone to evaluate if you want this person in your life full capacity since you feel if they did this to me once what will make this time different?  

If you are the alleged offender, you must do all you can to make it up to the hurt party.  It may take time to make it to this person, build their trust, and in time forgiveness will come.  You need to forgive yourself though as we all make mistakes.  Sometimes the hurt party and you will not have the same relationship.  We all must take responsibility for our actions especially our words....Amy

So what do you do when you really step in it? You own it! You fix it if you can. You do an absolute humble job of repairing the mess caused by you when you were not being your best self. You scold yourself and only yourself. You don't project your insecurities onto others. You take the time needed to reflect on your past regretted actions and wholly object to future bad behaviors of like kind.

You ask the forgiveness from the offended party and from your God in heaven. And then you exhale, forgive yourself and move forward into a new light. La Detra Joy