Author: amini4

I’ve learned a few things in my 37 years. Some people won’t like me because I’m me and they’re them, but most think I’m great. No matter how obviously hurtful we are to others, we refuse to apologize because humility appears to be more costly than pride. Enemies and cheaters actually prosper. People too often opt to say “I told you so” to feel superior or knowledgeable when I’m hurting instead of just listening. Friends and family fail themselves quite often, so they have to fail you. It’s not personal, usually. Things happen and it doesn’t always have meaning or lessons attached. I have a right to my anger. I have a right to my joy. At times there are no words. It’s not wise always to trust feelings, but we should feel. We rarely want advice, we want an out. We should love ourselves fiercely. I can still be surprised for better or for worse. Evil is real. Goodness is easy. Freedom ain’t free. Intentions matter. Every now and again, I just need to be at my lowest to appreciate the process of the climb. We are not totally unique, but we are still special. My relationship with myself will be reflected by my relationship with others. Meditation and prayer soothes. I block my intuition with fear. I’m not a victim just because I acknowledge it hurts. Life is hard because we spend most of it not being present. I have a right to peace and justice.

I’m working on my acceptance.

There is so much inside.

Sometimes it feels like too much to accept.

So I don’t.

Fullness abounds yet blocks persist.

I am the clog.

It’s time to get out of my own way.

Commune with my reality, my present.

Release the past and all its trappings.

Stop fearing the future and my greatness.

I am.

Everyday I move toward forgiveness.

Namaste.

I remember the first time I opened a 2-liter soda bottle. I was 7 or younger, the table it sat on was up to my chest or slightly below it, and it was because of a challenge from an adult, a man to be exact, who told me I couldn’t do it. He may have been my dad. And although I’m a righty, I did it with my left after a few struggles. It’s still my go-to hand. What’s the point to this other than my random memory? Well, it’s another linkage for me in my history about my ability to perform feats under strain, particularly where I gotta prove disparagers. But I also smile at the fact that my little self did that (cuz it hurt and I still have small hands & wrists!) and didn’t give up until I accomplished it.

We’re powerful y’all!

When those naysaying voices around or in us say we ain’t got it, we do. I’m a socialized fighter so I like forcefully proving that I am fierce. I also cope by justifying my wins in the face of peril and danger, sometimes limiting myself to only perform under pressure or when my life depends on it. Where I gotta make it. That’s not a self-care strategy. It’s survival, naturally ingrained to an extent in my core as an animal, and also very much based in trauma. It’s not strengths-situated. Nevertheless, I got it. You got it. We have to remember that we do no matter how it emerges AND we need to create situations where this simple, yet constant fact emerges and deposits in a happy place for us to access. Examine your life and remember where you prevailed, where you soared, where you did more than just get by. Shit, phone a friend.

We’re powerful, family!

I’m thankful for today’s memory and for you. Asé.

Do I have to look in the mirror to recognize myself? Lingering in squint? Judging what I can’t make out from the smudges and silver?

Or do I already know? Haven’t I always?

Have I not grown tired of requiring public opinion to decide my visibility; my value and purpose?

My presence isn’t subjective: I am here.

Walking in truth; reassured.

I am the mirror. I reflect light. If unseen, I am still felt.

Even a sliver of me illuminates; projects.

Yo!  So on this issue of enough.  Gratefully, I’m in a self-giving space today that is based in memory and proof, but is also grounded in this present moment.  For my entire life I’ve been fed mixed messages about the pieces of myself I should value vs. the parts I should throw away.  The fact that I should anything is in itself problematic, but this idea of what’s enough and what isn’t leaves me empty and longing.  Do you find this to be the case in your life; that what you should be or should do is never enough?  It’s tiring and defeatist.  It’s also impossibly toxic and futile to compete with oneself or others in a world that establishes ambiguous constructs to feel important, oppress others, mask insecurities and escape the now i.e. what matters most and what’s really real.

So I’ve taken some inventory of where I’ve let the enough dismantle my power.  Some of them are:

I’m not old or young enough.  Loved enough.  Christian or spiritual enough.  Patient enough.  Wise enough.  Not thick enough, thin enough.  Tall enough.  Not smart enough.  Not dark/light enough.  I’m not Black enough.  My hair’s not kinky, long, short, straight or wavy enough.  Teeth ain’t white enough.  Not interesting enough.  Angry enough.  Calm enough.  I don’t code-switch or play the game enough.  Sell out enough.  Hold my ground enough.  I don’t demand enough.  Advocate enough.  I don’t stay woke or conscious enough.  I don’t shut up enough.  I’m not pretty or sexy enough.  I don’t lie enough.  Compromise enough.  I don’t earn enough.  Buy enough.  I’m not straight enough.  Not gay enough.  Not masculine or feminine enough.  Not bossy enough.  Not following enough.  Serving enough.  Writing enough.  Taking charge enough.  Doing enough.  Not poised enough.  Cultured enough.  Hood enough.  Wordly enough.  Push back enough.  Likeable enough.  Apologetic enough.  I’m not strong enough.  I’m not organized enough.  I’m not winning enough.  I ain’t building enough.  Not fucking enough.  Not romantic enough.  Not desired enough.  Not present enough.  Not established enough.  Not down enough.  Not respected enough.  I don’t prepare enough.  Save enough.  Balance enough.  Invest enough.  I don’t endure pain or pleasure enough.  Make space for babies enough.  Change enough.  Slow down enough.  Run fast enough.  Communicate enough.  Make moves enough.  Increase my social capital enough.  I don’t defer enough.  I’m not aware enough.  Accepted enough.  I can’t be enough. 

This list could be endless.  I’ve acted out these stories for a lifetime because of hurt, losses, struggles and comparisons.  I’ve also experienced self defeat as a result of significant accomplishments and gains in my life.  In those moments I let fear of failure, high expectations and what ifs slip in.  But the not enoughs are all lies!  They are tricks of the mind, ego and other people’s made-up realities that sow imbalance and internal discord.  They’re poor coping strategies which breed misery and depression.  Anxiety.  In this place of diminished value, I have warred with myself and countless others because I don’t cultivate self-acceptance, peace or joy.  Not only do I look externally for a fix, discounting all that is naturally and seamlessly abounding and connected within, but I also block my ability to see who and what is for me.  I’ve hurt myself and many others this way.  Even when I’m winning I choose not to fully absorb the beautiful moments and the possibilities because I tend to get stuck in the race and the untruth of self-hate.  What’s real, what has always been true is that I am enough.  Fam, you, too are enough.

Yes it’s fine to analyze, push ourselves and set goals or break barriers.  We gotta self-regulate though.  Ask ourselves why we believe we don’t matter and remember where we first overtly or inconspicuously learned that we didn’t.  We must arrive at some balance and determine that where we live, what we post, who we fuck, who likes us, who vouches for us, endorses us, avoids us, lives for us, beefs with us, blocks us, how much we make, what we do, what we wear or what we acquire does not define us.  Instead of I am not, try I am.  Nothing needs to precede or follow I am to prove our worth.  It’s not simple always, but it gets easier to live in that truth if we practice this often and authentically.  No one else should be diminished by this truth either, so be mindful of where you take up space or use power over others to feel relevant.  We also must enlist a posse that won’t let us kill ourselves trying to keep up with shit that doesn’t matter and that never did.  Real talk: if we don’t achieve this harmonious balance and instead look for everything finite to define our worth, it still won’t ever be enough.  Don’t go mad chasing the fake.  Let’s stop believing the lie and in turn fabricating for ourselves that we aren’t enough.  We are.  Now go be.

For February I wasn’t compelled to blog. It would’ve been forced for sure and I wasn’t feeling that. My pacing has been off, I’ve been sick, and otherwise overextended, so I haven’t wanted to. I had a distressing dream about my mother a few nights ago, but that didn’t find me the words either. The musings haven’t left me. They just haven’t pushed my pen to paper, or more specifically, moved my fingers to vigorously tap the app. Good thing I wrote to her offline at the start of last month on her birthday. My therapist reminded me how spiritually soothing that can be. She was right. So I didn’t blog. But now the recent successive deaths in my close network, even the collegial one I just learned of this afternoon (some expected and mostly unexpected) are finally prompting me. They’ve certainly shocked and hurt, pushing me to great sympathy and reflection. They’ve reminded me of my losses and to never plan on tomorrow. How to make now count instead. As my birthday has passed, I’m aware. Perhaps even hyper-alert of how important it is to connect to myself whenever I can without qualms or delay. No cop-outs. I’m also compelled to stillness and quiet. To give no fucks about frivolous things like money, business plans, conflicts, self-imposed stuntin’ deadlines and what if’s. I’m blessed to breathe and mostly auto-function. I’m in my body, whole mind and this world. Thus, I don’t get to loathe myself in the mirror and doubt my present state. I get to be. I get to thank myself and all that’s around me. The fire in me. Free myself. Honor me. I, like the people who have recently gone on to join our ancestors, am loved. That’s worth typing about, however brief.

Who did I tell myself to become? How did I plan to manifest her? Which rough tides were tasked with smoothing these jagged corners? Will I ever know?

I’m searching.

Change. The why of desire can read easy, even when fluid. The how, elusive. Perhaps I ain’t listenin’, sittin’, willin’. I’m stubborn so maybe I never did. Perhaps stopping before starting will prove it wasn’t worth it in the first place. Would I want it and be as proud if it were easy?

Always searching.

Found her before, dissociated, dreamless, beat and muted. Vowed to speak life into her, grow her, power her. Then again she hid, afraid and deterred. Only emergin’ to lash out or create. The duo occasionally coexist. Glimpses of promise.

Still, sick of searching.

What’s the struggle even for? When it’s this hard and marred with loss on a solitude road, how should I expect to keep myself company as a life source? Just to say it happened, or prove it was possible? What’s the legacy: the voyage or where I dock?

Searching…

She’s somewhere waiting to be freed.

Lately I’ve been overcome with grief, desires and regret. This paralysis can sneak up during this time of year, even if not consecutively, with all the forced commercialism, family time, religion and “new year, new me” proselytizing, but these emotions have persisted unusually strong and long. Because I know a good portion of myself I can generally point to the reasons as a way to make peace and changes. Like my standards: I tend to place loads of pressure on myself. To slow down, speed up, show up, fall back, go hard, be soft, speak up, be still, silent, etc. These high expectations to make myself better don’t actually motivate me. They only place my fears in overdrive and I get even more stuck, especially if I barely brush up against the mark. They also create unrealistic expectations for the people in my life; ones they can never fully meet and honestly shouldn’t, at least not for me. Then there’s the loneliness: misery connected to me missing the family I once had along with the one I’ve never known, figuratively and literally. I could expound on this, but that’s for another post. My chosen family often has their own blood connection and so no matter their efforts or mine, sometimes I’m just alone when I really don’t want to be. It’s sucky to feel out of touch when all you want is to be connected and remembered. There are also more constant reminders of how life is playing out like my weight, overall health and career choices. It’s like everything I could ever feel is on me and unrelenting and I can’t understand why. None of these things necessarily relate to one another or are causal either, and one on the upswing won’t just alleviate the other. Nevertheless, they’re beating me in the head and heart this season and I’ve just accepted that I have to admit I’m actually in a funk so I can find my way through it.

I no longer believe in New Year resolutions as I age and try to move in wisdom. Instead I aim to affirm and restore my life when I need it most, in my own time and when I’m in a place to keep my word to myself and push past my comforts and habits, even when the goal is unclear. Or when the goal is just to process and progress intentionally to fully be in this existence. So this NYE post is more of a conscious stream of humble honesty. It’s a statement of my now as much as I can muster since the pain I’m feeling is so connected to the past and future. I’m stating what is so I can just be.

Real talk, it sucks to feel like crap when life is generally good. It makes more sense when it’s shitty. But I’ve had to suspend even this self critique and not just whittle my needs, hurts or confusion down to 1st World problems or FOMO. After all, it’s a state of mind that crafts my reality, not just the reverse. So for today I will more self acceptance, patience and awareness. I want to experience and love the simple beauties, even the gloriousness of being alive to complain. I cry when it hurts and that’s happened often lately. I feel. I have gratitude for choices I’ve made and gifts I’ve been given because God has been good and people have too. I want another day to get it right, but I also accept the Now, where I get to choose at least how I’ll navigate the what ifs and reconcile the past. I don’t have the family, money and peace I want, but I have what I need. So I’m thankful for what has brought me to this place, even the hardest of things that are doing a number on me, the areas I control and ones I can’t and/or don’t want to. Even writing this is making it a little easier. I’m hurting, yet I’m also pleased to be able to share such discomfort because more than anything I want connection with myself, the universe and with you.

Today and whatever next moments I’m gifted are already on the mend. I’m here and it’s a beautiful mess.

How’s your ego doing these days? Finding yourself in conflict with yourself and others, yearning to be right and painting things as black and white as if you’re the moral compass? Have you accessed your humility and gratitude lately? Seriously, when’s the last time you said a meaningful “thank you”? How many enemies are you creating by standing on your self-righteousness? Or are you just isolating while bitterly hoping people check for you despite not offering up any insight into your soft place? What about your patience? How have others spoken to you, about you (e.g. like what do you think they’re saying about your behavior right now, honestly?). What have you been saying about them, to them? Fam, it’s time to check in. If your ego overloads like mine tends to, then you’re probably at odds with many, including yourself and feeling that rumble in your belly or fire in your chest and head. Don’t let ego rock your world. It sounds simple stupid, but a little presence and acceptance smoothes us out. Check for the power that resides deep within, not the one that masquerades in your bark and bite. Love yourself. Fall back. Shut the fuck up. Say “I’m sorry” or “thank you” without expectation and judgment. Mean it. Stop being entitled. Admit you’re wrong…a lot. Peace fam. Or do you wanna fight about this too?

I promised myself I’d post each month. Sometimes there’s nothing to be said. Other times there is so much, that for people like me who let the perfect get in the way of the good, it causes me to keep it in because it feels inadequate to try and synthesize feelings, epiphanies, and spirit into organized, insightful lines. So on the eve of another month after wanting to write for weeks with so much and so little, I’m keeping my word as bond to myself. And therein is the message. Sometimes all we have are our promises to ourselves. Nothing may be revelatory because life can exude simplicity to the point of being surreal for how unnoticeable or seamless it is. These past weeks I’ve had both the tendency to doubt my story and gifts, forgetting or downplaying them (despite putting several of them to superb use almost effortlessly), and conversely I’ve focused on my story too much as justification for the rumblings in my gut or to secure immobility. Either way it preoccupied me so that the writing didn’t manifest outside of my brain, though it’s damn near been cresting out of my heart, mouth and fingertips. Still, I tell myself beautiful stories almost daily based on the endless vault of creativity and observation, usually writing them in my mind faster than I can type. But my promise is my promise. Where, what, why, when and all that accompany these queries don’t have to make sense or be answered with each blink or breath. As I remember patience and gentleness with myself and all that I’ve protected, loved and grown within, both because of and in spite of trying times, I’m reminded of how my most cherished victories are the ones where I kept my promises to myself, no matter what. And as midnight approaches as constant as all change, honoring my word makes me feel like a rockstar and fully here.