Category Archives: Vision

From The Mouths of Babes

For a whole fifteen teenage minutes yesterday, The Girl stood making her case as to why I should start making gift baskets again or go back to G. Mag. She proceeded to say how I needed something for myself and how she was trying to boost my confidence. “I have confidence!” I proclaimed. She didn’t look all that convinced. YG sat on my right, amen-ing from his gallery seat. “Please tell your mother.” He said. “I’ve been telling her this for how long?” He said. Okay, okay. I get it. It is time to stop sleeping. I hear you.

Here’s the thing, though. I made (and stand by) some valid excuses—err points. First, the basket thing is tough. I hate selling stuff. I’m terrible at it. And besides, who would actually spend their hard-earned money on…me?  As far as my baby G. Mag is concerned, I refuse to bring her back without doing it right. I need money, and a lot of it, to do it the way it should be done. Figure it out, they said. *sigh* Don’t worry about the money, they demanded. Invest in yourself, they preached. It isn’t that easy. Is it?

Aside from (the valid) excuses and their ridiculous rebuttals, I do feel like it is time. Something is brewing along the horizon in the distance. The air around me is static and the clouds are pregnant…with something.

I won’t say I am close. I am not. But I am certainly not as far removed as I was. I think the circumstances at the present moment are roaring in my ears. So much so, I can’t hear the sound being made from dreams meant to be touched. Perhaps, that is why on a beautiful Sunday afternoon a 16-year-old with important teenage things to do stood in my face defiantly walking all over my excuses trying to convince me of what was waiting. “If I had talent like you, Mommy,” she said matter of factly, “I’d be using it.” Well…I guess its time I start, hm?

~SM

 

 

What The Heck Am I Suppose To Do With That???

Me. Meet Crossroads. Crossroads. Meet Me. I suppose this feeling of slightly lost could be attributed to the new year approaching, the Boy getting older, and the Girl’s new found teenage attitude. There is something brewing in this head/heart/soul of mine and I am uneasy with not being able to put a finger on what to do with it.

As a gift to myself, I purchased Act Like A Success by Steve Harvey. His explanation of the Gift is interesting and makes much sense, however, what is confusing about the Gift is how exactly one is to operate in the gift. I know my gift…the strongest one of them anyway…and it is writing. I can write with my eyes closed. I can write in my sleep. I could probably write standing on my head if my cleavage didn’t smother me first. I. Can. Write. It is my gift. Period. Score one for me (because I actually know that), but–err–what the hell am I suppose to do with it?

I sat at work and took about (5) internet quizzes on gift assessment. Know what all of them said? Artist. Duh. I knew that already. What each quiz failed to explain is what I was suppose to do with that knowledge. Young Gun said I should just have fun with it and explore, but (as I so cheerfully explained to him) I am almost 40…he is not even close so he can explore until his heart is content. My clock is ticking. Yes, yes, I know what some of you are probably thinking: there is no time limit on exploration. I got that. What there is a time limit on is operating in one’s gift and that (for me) is not up for debate.

I am annoyed by not knowing what to do with what was given. I feel like I have been given an engine to put together with no Chilton’s for reference. I suppose I will stop with the internet quizzes (as they are only telling me what I already know) and just continue to float until I get to the per-ordained destination. I am not chasing money. I am not chasing fame. I am not chasing tangible, external power stuff. I am chasing the unabashed freedom that operating fully in the Gift will give. Doesn’t that count for sun’tin?

~SM

Finding Purpose

I am a busy body but it is never my busy. I am busy doing other people’s busy. Kids, work, friends, lovers….never mine. I need something to capture my attention. I need something to fuel my drive. It’s in there…the drive that is.

On a freezing November too-early-to-be-up-on-a-Sunday morning, I sat in the car waiting for the baseball game to start thinking about a friend of mine. He’s young. He’s ambitious. He’s prepared for success. He often speaks of being self sufficient and quitting his job within a year. He is confident in his craft. It makes me a little jealous…I want that too. I want the something to do. The busy.

Being a mother is a wonderful blessing. I don’t take the experience of giving my body and life over to the miracle for granted. I complain, sure, but the experience and the blessing as a whole is not lost on me. For a while, I thought perhaps that was my purpose: to be the best mom ever. Not a bad purpose, if you ask me, but I think I am here for a little more than that.

I owned a magazine. Albeit, I did not handle every aspect of the magazine correctly, but I remember losing myself for hours in the office planning, plotting, and designing. It was my baby. I say all of the time I let it go because no one was listening to my voice but the truth of the matter is I let it go because I thought that was the reason why my husband was cheating.

I would rarely go to bed on time. I stopped being his tv side kick. I was constantly typing or taking meetings or buzzing with ideas. When I found out his eyes and affections had wondered beyond me, I put it down thinking I was being a neglectful wife. Save the pitied looks and tsk-tsk, I have beat myself up over it worse than anyone else could.

So here I am, no longer a neglectful wife, mom taxi, teenage love advice giver, tweenage confidence booster lost in the fray of other people’s lives. Where is mine?

My friend said that he’s not doing music for the money or the fame. It is his language. He said everyone has a language and music is his and it is his charge (from God of course) to speak it. I guess I just want to speak my language too….but I suppose I have to find the voice to speak it with first…right?

~SM

Tri-ing to Feel Alive

Yup…tri as in triangle or tricycle or, in this case triathlon. Divorce, baby daddy’s, bad decisions, and being a little light in the pocket can lead to big wishes and even bigger leaps. Ohhhhh boy…I think I am just about to make a humongous leap.

This conversation is not really that new. I tend to have it often…once a year it seems. I get this really huge idea, post it, blog it, blab about it and there is a 50/50 chance it materializes. Kinda sucks for me…makes me look a little loony. This time, however, is going to be different…it has to be different.

Crossroads sorta suck. Being stuck at one sucks even worse than actually coming to one, noticing it and passing by. When you seem stuck in transition and at a crossroad, crazy shit turns into amazing ideas and you begin to make foolish, rush decisions to evoke some type of feeling.  Joy. Fear. Curiosity. Happiness. Pride. Rage. Accomplishment…whatever the outcome of the crazy, you like it…you need.

This decision may be induced by the feeling of wanting to actually feel alive again…alive for Sadie May not for others. There’s a difference, you know. Being and feeling alive for self is different than being and feeling alive for your children/spouse/parents/siblings. There is a confidence that comes with it–you walk differently, talk differently, love differently. Suddenly the air is sweeter and the world is yours for the taking. No one can compare to you. Youarethebest. You live and breathe a world full of chances and choices that bring a special kind of excitement and wonder into your life and it spills over into the lives of those around you and suddenly you feel the vibration of life beneath your feet and you become…unstoppable. No dream too big. No mountain too high. No crazy idea unearthed…you are alive.  I am chasing the alive. I am chasing that alive.

There was a moment, recently, when I tasted it and it happened when I crossed the finish line of the Peachtree Road Race, having run the entire 6.2 miles. Nothing was going right at home, the energy was off and apparently my husband had stopped loving me at that point. All of the confusion, all of the pain, all of the hurt, all of the stress I poured into the push and I conquered demons, monsters, and the 6.2 miles. When the finish line came into view I broke down into tears–salty streaks of emotion mixing with the sweat of the heavy I carried the entire race. Something broke inside of me at that moment. I tasted what I could do if I allowed myself to give into the push.  If I moved past the flesh and pain. Iwasalive. I was alive.

There are plenty of ways I can touch that feeling again, but this is the one way I plan on reaching it and never letting it go. I plan on leaving the mistress, the divorce, the brokenness, the hurt, the despair, the failure, the selfishness, the disbelief, the stupidity, the bitterness, the anger, the arguments, the dependency, the arrogance, the lack and the allowed disrespect behind for good. I plan on rising above all I thought I knew and who I thought I was–who I made myself out to be and giving into the push. I will run my way past pain, swim my way past what was, and bike my way to something–someone–better.  Yup…I am going to give it a tri no matter what I have to sacrifice. I am going to tri…and I will succeed.

~SM

Transcending Flesh

I was explaining to a friend the randomness I have been experiencing as of late. She listened patiently, nodding in silent agreement of being there once or twice, and when I was done rambling she said something that made the randomness make perfect sense.

Lately, I have had somewhat of an out of body experience, for lack of better words. It feels like I am wearing the suit of someone else. I am wearing a life that does not quite belong to me. I am the round peg being forced into a triangular hole.

Nothing in my current life feels comfortable. My mind and my spirit are in one place and my flesh and circumstances are in another. I liken it to a baby who knows (feels) they can walk, wants to walk, but their body is limited to something different.

I feel travel, I feel financial security, I feel loving relationship, I feel healthy body, I feel enjoyable career, I feel freedom, I feel wisdom, I feel happiness….at any given moment my spirit and mind leave the “building” and I am tortured by being physically stuck in a place that does not feel comfortable and by being mentally stuck in a place where I need to be.

Upon explaining this predicament which makes me seem like a great candidate for medication, my friend calmly took it all in and simply said “Your spirit and your mind have transcended the transition while your flesh and your circumstances are playing catch up.”

Deep, right? Yea…I know. I was speechless too. It made perfect sense. My spirit and my mind are finally on one accord and they have moved past this holding pattern in which my flesh and my circumstances are apparently stuck.  It makes me feel better to know that I am not losing it, but the knowing then begs the question: What do I do about it? “You are going to have to be patient, keep moving forward and working toward catching up,” she said.

~SM