“Woke”

I know you’ve heard, said and read this before:

Life is tricky.

Is it? Or are we just not present enough?
I’ll get into more detail:
I have found that being present is not a foreign concept. Or even ONLY for a special kind of people. Yes we have to be conscious of it. We have to be conscious. We have to observe ourselves and our surroundings and our position in the universe. Being in the moment, in the now. This is what my peers now refer to as being “woke” – being awake to what is. Being awake to the TRUE reality of what is.

I find that it is the moments when I am not fully present that I am caught off-guard.
When I exist instead of being alert and aware of what is happening to and around me, things (mostly negative) affect me easier and quicker. It’s easy to get a reaction out of me when I am not in tune/ balance. When I am not observing myself and my surroundings.
A good example, for me anyways, is when having a conversation with a loved one; If I don’t strip them of all that I know them to be and the things that make them tick, I will easily discard what they are saying and take comfort in “she’s that person”. Whereas, If I gave them a chance as another being, and I will stretch this a little farther and say as a “stranger” I would consciously and deliberately grant them the understanding that they need. But by listening to answer / reply instead of to comprehend  and fully take in what they are saying – I distort their message. Sure, I will sometimes need to understand the person they are in order to get their message, but this should in no way cripple them. Being woke empowers me to apply the necessary amount of “handling” for a particular person. But a fresh and unbiased set of ears is possibly one of the greatest gifts we afford anyone that has a message for us. Yes?

Taking cognizance of the fact that we do not approach things and issues the same way allows for the right amount of sensitivity to be practiced and applied. Then perhaps our messages will be relayed and received as intended.

I hope this resonates with you. It came from an argument that should have never happened. I was just too quick to react and my defense was on overdrive. I, as I’ve been told on many occasions, “POPPED OFF” *turns crimson*
We Live and We Learn.

XOXO

 

Mine.

“you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love…” – Warsan Shire

This has been ringing in my head for a while now.

I want something to call my own.
I want something that is all mine.
I want something that I never have to worry about losing.
I want something that can never be taken from me.
I want something permanent.

I’ve never had anything that is any of those things.
And this might be why I want it all so bad.
No one wants to lose. No one wants things that can be taken away no matter how much one fights to keep them.
Fighting – another thing, I feel it’s all fair and well to fight for what you want.
I’m just not for losing oneself in the process. I will fight for what wants me, just to make that clear.

I’m at a point in my life where I believe that anything meant for me will always find its way to me. The soldier in me still wants to fight and hold on, but the warrior always snaps me back to reality and reminds me to surrender and LET GO OF THAT WHICH DOES NOT SERVE ME; Worry, stress and panic and all that negative shit.

But still…

I want something that is all mine.

 

It all gets better with time.

I’ve always thought it ridiculous to say time heals all wounds.
I mean, what is it that time can do to heal and make things better?
Time is just that thing that passes. Right?
That thing that we measure our existence with. Right?

I don’t know.

Here’s what I do know. I know that we are not immune to pain. I know that acting strong while you are breaking inside does no one any good. I know that everyone should grieve and heal as best as they know how. I know that with time comes better lessons.
I know that with age, we are able to deal with things and handle things better.

I was 11 when I lost my older brother.It was sudden and it has taken me almost all my life to come to terms with. But guess what has helped me to heal? Time. That thing that passes. That thing that keeps on moving forward and never ever stops not for your pain or even your joy.

With every passing moment you come to terms with the reality of things.
You find comfort in the permanency of it all. How once a loved one passes on, you will never see them again. You understand the importance of being true about your feelings with and to those you care about the most. You heal at your own pace.

I lost a dear friend a week ago. I feel that this will be the easiest loss I will ever had to deal with. Not because she was not blood- but simply because she gave me time. She gave me her time. I got to make sure she knows exactly how I feel about her. She knew me as an adult. As an adult who is very vocal. I love her and she knows it. I hadn’t had a proper conversation with her in a few weeks and that will forever hurt. I will always kick myself for not squashing our tiff quicker – as I had done a million times before.

I will miss her. But I know I am already healing. I understand things better now. I think she got the best love I could give to a friend. And that’s where my comfort lies.

I’ll explain this process next time.

But for now… I am at peace with my friend’s passing. And I know she appreciates that.