Light and Love

Dear beautiful, adventurous world of crap,
Soooooo much has transpired since we last spoke. How are you? How's the family? Now that we've gotten past the pleasantries, we all know that I really don't care how you are, or how your family is....because the answers to those questions are relative to the day and your mood. By the end of our chat you may feel completely different, hell, we may not even be friends by the end of this.

My feelings are all over the place and then no place at all. But one thing is for sure, I am in a place of peace. Not that total transcending peace that the bible talks about quite yet. Just at peace. Many things have been revealed to me this past week. Many new opportunities have come forth. And of course with all of those things come a varied assortment of challenges, which all revolve around the Almighty Dollar. But as much as I like money....and I do like money, I have a big smile on my face. I am sitting here in an old raggedy dress, fro is unkept, a portion of my eyebrows have seemingly come off, my teeth haven't been brushed, and my toe nails look like something from a horror flick. In case you are still confused, I look a hot-funky McMess!! But I am soooo thrilled. This is the end of a rough patch in my threads of life.

Sidebar: I see life as a huge quilt. The quilt has many patches, patterns and plans. It could begin on one path and end up someplace totally different, depending on the people involved, the intent and circumstance of the Quilter.

My quilt is a multi colored, ecclectic, incomplete, beautiful thing. It displays all of my travels, tears, victories, successes and hurt. It looks just like me. It goes with everything and then nothing at all.

Things are about to change for me. I am about to learn new things, sing new songs and invite new Quilters to my circle and I am embracing it with such pleasure.What will be, will be.

I saw "Eat, Pray, Love" last week with my Other Mom and one of my 3 sisters. It was such a great experience having read about 3/4 of the book and seeing what I'd already imagined. The character, interestingly named Liz, was a lot like me. Or I am a lot like her, or maybe, just maybe, we are all quite a bit alike in the grand scheme of things. Anyway, she left her husband and supposed ideal life when she started to lose her zest for life. She knew that it wasn't him, or the mortgage making her feel that way, it was her, she was NOT balanced. Anyway, she struggled with knowing how much her husband loved her and having to leave him for her own balance and sanity. She wished that he could not hate her and that they could simply be cordial. Well, in her travels, in discussing this matter with someone he said: "Liz, it's ok that he loves you and misses you. It's ok that you love and miss him. When you feel that way, send him light and love and keep going." That statement really moved me. Because I am in a place where I lack balance and zest. I am afraid that a lot of my spunk has been drained and taken by so many "real life" situations, burdens, thoughts, pain, atmospheres and stresses. I want to be here for my loved ones. I know that they need me. But I need me too, and for that reason, alone, I am setting out to find me again. The God in me. The balance that I need to equally, cohabitat with this universe as I know it. There will be people who wont understand my choices. There will be some who laugh. Some who may even feel that I am running away. There will be some bitter and angry because their situations do not warrant the free spirited life that I have. I am so thankful for my support system: Family, Friends, Associates and Classmates. I love being an open book. I love sharing the good, the bad and the ugly with them, no matter what. But, I can't control anyone's feelings or actions toward me. So I will start now, by sending light and love......and forward marching!!

I don't know where this path is going to take me. But I vow to take my path by storm to Live and Love. Nothing more, nothing less. Live & Love!! I mean, what else am I really good at??

Now, my body will remain here, in HOT, FLAT, Texas for a while longer, but my mind is officially checked out. Consider this my farewell letter. This is an end to a very short chapter in my life. But, I have a feeling that I will revisit some of the pages, very, very soon ;)

Wage Slaves/Image Slaves

I had an epiphany today. It was like my eyes opened up for the first time, since the last time that they saw ever so clearly what was going on.


My Father (my Daddy) is right, he believes that we’ve become slaves to our wages. And, if this is the case, just call me the bottom slave, busting my ass, staying way past , time, to get it right and do it well, so that I never have to ask anyone to bail, me out. But when it’s all said and done, what do we have left? A few borrowed hours to spend with the very ones that you keep lights on for? I mean, why keep the lights on if your heart is off and your time is desolate and you are barely able to see anyway as the tiredness, gloom and stress hovers over your body, forcing you to give off negative vibes. You may as well be wearing a “Keep Out” sign on your soul.

HA!

I love the best of the best, just like the rest. But will I sell the beating blessing in my chest just so that people won’t jest? I. Think. Not.----Nah, never.

Whose opinions matter anyway? More mere mortals, watching you? Laughing at you as you cash your check at stores because you have no bank account. Laughing at you as you rent your tires and rims so that the onlookers can see them. Laughing at you because your most precious possession are in ya Mama’s name. Smiling at you when you have a lock on your rented door that you cannot enter because it was either the Benz or the Rent and the car came first. Get a clue, an education, a career a direction. Get something, as opposed of trying to be something. For real now, I am laughing at you. Always on the scene, refusing to speak to people that you’ve known all your life. Remember, we stayed next door. My Mama would bring ya’ll bread from the Thrift and your Mama would let us use the phone when ours was cut off for non-payment? Ooooh, but I guess none of that rings a bell, thru your blue tooth, which was brand new, and your kids walk around in old diapers smelling like Poo-Poo at ya Mama’s house because you can’t shit for them. MESSAGE!!!

Let me take a step back. I am not in a position to judge you or you or you or even me. I’m just saying “can we get some clarity?” Can we for once try to align our purpose with the divine one? Can we put things into perspective. Like my Father says: What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? *Selah* Some of you are polluting your bodies and the community with trash, silliness, all to keep up an image. But I ask you “For who do you do these things?” For what gain? Most importantly, or you satisfied with your answer?

My coiled hair unravels from under my hat, as I dip it to you: My Brothers and Sisters who would sacrifice a hair cut or a new do to make sure your kids eat. This is for the Grandparents’ who have stepped in to help their children’s-children out in their time of need. This is for my Sisters who would rather drive the same car, so that they could provide an experience for themselves and their kids. This is for my Brothers who would rather play catch with their sons, than to “catch” ass in the street and God knows what else. This is for my families who would rather make beans and rice and pay their mortgage, than to pay rent and eat at the happening spot. This is for my people who know that it’s not about whose name you can drop, or where you live, it’s about who you are. It’s not about what you have, as much as it is about what you do with it. And they say we are in a recession. Nah, we are in a regression. People better get right. Take account of who you are, how you live and you touch the lives that you’ve been entrusted with. Better now than later.

Later!

I am Elizabeth

I am proud to dance to my own beat. I don't always make the right choices, but I guess that's what makes me human. When you get to a point where you are living for you (the God in you); nothing else matters.

I grow tired, and even frustrated when I hear or read how much attention the thoughts and opinions of others get. People will talk at you and laugh at you no matter what. People will have all sorts of opinions, but none of that matters at all. I will not be privvy to your judgement or futile opinions. I am Elizabeth, take it or leave it.

This will ALWAYS be TEMPORARY

Tuesday was one of those interesting days. By the time I arrived at work, I’d already felt like a ball of crap wrapped inside of a sausage and egg burrito that you would find in Texas sold on a truck, at the corner of “Watch out” and “Please don’t”. I cried uncontrollably for quite some time. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around various concepts. It was like the words and actions simply didn’t add up in a certain matter. But, hell, I am kind of getting used to that. Work began, with 79 unread emails with equal parts being from applicants desperately seeking work in this failed/over extended and bailed up and bailed out economy. Whereas the other portion were from co-workers and management all wondering what I was doing, or telling me what to do, or telling me how I should do it. And then was one sad little email from a co-worker who found an ugly ass dog and wanted to “sell” the bastard to someone. Now that email, made me laugh. I wonder if Ms. Thing is still in custody of the mut. Let’s call the mut “Rilo”; just because that’s how I feel right now. And all that really matters to me, is, right now. Moving along, a co-worker, or shall I say an office occupant, who lied on me while I was away from work the week before last (we’ll discuss that later) decided, I guess after I peered into his cold-Satan like eyes for the last time without ever cracking a smile, wanted to come and clear the air with me. How do you think I responded? See with me, after you do me dirty, and especially if we don’t have any ties binding us together, I will smooth cut you off without question. I am not mad at this ball-less piece of dirt, I am just done being anywhere in his sphere. Forward march------Then something in my sick mind told me to check one of my bank accounts and I saw a cute balance of $14.11. YES!!! I thought, I can afford a salmon salad from down the way. I grabbed my big bag, and shuffled around, seeking my wallet. And can you guess what happened next? That’s right. Not a wallet in sight. My wallet had been left in the car. The car that was used to drop me off at work. The car that was probably 30-40 miles away from me. Panicked, aggravated and now at the point of new tears, I remembered that I had a small piece of fish and about 7 green beans in the fridge from the previous day. “Yeah Buddy” I thought. Go-Go gadget microwavableisms. And soon in my brown awkward shaped mouth was the fish and 7, or make that 6 fresh, beautifully colored green beans. Ummm. Satisfied, for now.
My day continued to be a rollercoaster ride of emotions. You may be reading this and saying “Man, that girl has issues.” And you would be correct. I really am a reactor though. And sadly, my threshold for BS and pain isn’t quite as tolerant as it was in my “hay days” (early 20’s). Now it’s really 1.5 strikes and you are out. The first time you are late to do something for me. The first time that you lie on me. The first time that you don’t do what I ask you to do after investing a great deal, makes me question every single thing ever been told. I may not say anything then (big mistake, sometime); I just let it build up and then “Boom” Pipes are broken and so are your spirits and because I’ve exploded; now my heart is hurting. *Sigh* There has to be a better way. I did, ask my Insurance about my mental health benefits though. I had an appointment too, but then I forgot about it. So, really there was no point in sharing that last bit with you, but I did, just to further reinforce your perception of me. Hahahahahahahaha (I am really laughing now). Moving onward, yet again, I was re-playing a recent conversation in my head where “friends” were being discussed and at the very moment, as though God himself wanted to show me that HE is always listening and providing, one of the fantastic four called me up. The warming and familiar voice said “Lizzard, I miss you, I was thinking we could do dinner tonight.” Now remember, I was dropped off and had no money on me. I sadly explained those facts to “TRAILBLAZING” (you have to be and advent blog reader to know which one the girls that is). I remembered thinking “OMG, I hate to be a burden, my life sucks raw ass cakes with bell peppers.” And she very sweetly said “Don’t worry about it.” WOW!!!
A few hours later, we were at one of the Wing joints that we all like, laughing and talking about everything under the sun. Now, you’d have to listen to us to understand just how random the chats are. We have somehow created our own lingo and if you try to decipher it or read too much into it, you will lose the whole point and really demonstrate your lameness. So here’s how the chat went: (and this is a lose translation)
• My job sucks
• I hate my job too
• 2 seconds from saying EF it to everything
• Gotta change the scene
• He got drunk and said he liked to have penises close to him??
• So he’s a real swinger, eh?
• Yucko
• “This will ALWAYS be TEMPORARY” (still don’t understand those two words together)
• “Ugh attachments”
• “I almost didn’t come back”
• Will we be this way at 40?
• “Perhaps, I would have his baby”
• “facebook stalkers”
• Time for another road trip
• Yeah a double Libra Birthday party!! Woo Hoo
• “Sure we’ll have another beer”
After a few hours of randomness and venting about things that really made no sense, my buddy handed me her keys because now she was tipsy. I asked her if she had a preferred route home, and we ended up taking a field trip. We started in the Woodlands, went down 2920, into Ye Old Tomball, ended at “Business 249” (not to EVER be confused with regular 249”) into Cypress, where we ran into Eldridge, made a few lefts around a bend, and over a rickety bridge where below flowed some mysterious body of water and bam, I was home. Now my buddy had a wee bit further to go. I didn’t even call to see if she was ok. But she did “like one of my facebook posts” so that serves as reassurance that she is alive, unless some weirdo stole her phone and is using it to take X-rated pictures in an effort to sabotage her. Let’s just say, all ended well and I am feeling pretty delicious sitting here in my banana yellow shirt.
That is all. There is no moral. No point. That’s why it’s Liz’s Café of blogs, serving you what you need or not, most times, except when I am out of town or inebriated.

My letter to love

Dear Love,
I am here with my heart in my hands, barely beating; bruised by every broken promise, by every act of infidelity, by every forever that seemed to never come. They tell me that with each bout of pain, I will get stronger. They tell me that I should leave my baggage at the door and go forward. Please, speak English to me, because I can’t comprehend how I am supposed to do these things.
Yes, I’ve gotten stronger. My heart isn’t as soft as it used to be. It is no longer three strikes and you’re out. Now it’s a fight just to get in and an even bigger one to get out. Now it’s “I’m watching you and the first time you screw up, I am checking out.” Ha! And my baggage, well it’s expensive and it’s just not that easy to leave it at the door. It’s my compass for learning. It provides the signs so that I can decipher the real baggage from the phony knock-offs.
But that’s neither here nor there. Dear Love, what do I do now? I’ve said every bad thing that I can think of and had every vile thought that a body should have. I’ve been called everything but the Elizabeth that my parents so purposed me to be called. I’ve taken on responsibilities which were not mine. I’ve tried to fix issues that were not mine, and at the end of the day, my mind, body and soul are tired. Sometime I can barely think straight. And when I get dressed, I don’t recognize the face looking back at me. Love, why have you taken such a toll on me? The songs and the greeting cards make you seem so kind and peaceful. Why have I been deceived?
Dear Love, I have written plans and goals. Why haven’t they come to pass? I’ve tried to be kind, but my words were taken for something other than their intent. I’ve tried to carry this load long enough, who will come and relieve me of it? Am I not allowed a break? Am I not allowed these tears that fall freely from my face like a leaky faucet? But when I cry, that is a problem. When I laugh, that is a problem. It seems, love, that in the end, the problem is simply me. Yet you won’t let me go.
Dear Love, I am all out of solutions. I am starting to loathe and despise you. Nothing I say or do ever seems to be well enough for you. And now I am empty. Please, don’t try to change my mind anymore. You don’t even respect me enough to stay your course, to speak kindly to me, to go above and beyond for me, to try to make me well when I am sick, to surprise me with small efforts of kindness and warmth. To hell with love and it’s siblings, because love obviously has no love for me at all.

Things and Dreams

It started off so wonderful, so quickly, so imperative, so necessary, so wrong, so now. You reeled me in with things and dreams, and parallel tastes in Rock N Roll, Jazz, Neo Soul and Film. You made me smile even when I felt that there was nothing to smile about. I assured you that you were ok in your skin and embraced it all with openness and care. As hard as I tried to fight it, the feelings were oozing out of me like blood and soon, I was completely, and utterly apart of you. I sometime wonder if you were ever a part of me. We didn’t know where one another were going, or where we came from, we just knew that This. Felt. So. Right. Nothing even mattered. Because we acted on passion and impulse. I was so in synch with your pulse.


So then, why are we both standing here empty? Why are the tears ever flowing from our faces? Why have we hurt one another beyond repair? Despair fills the air and the entanglement of broken promises, verbal thrashings and limited hope envelopes us without a stamp.
And, what’s the point of placing blame? We both did this. We both gave way.
Once again, I am at a crossroads between “What the hell?” and “What’s next?”
So until I know which way to go, I will remain “steel”. (Ha)