So we are in February, and it’s freezing and winter has been colder than a witch’s tit. I am miserable in the cold -it seems to freeze the life blood from me. I am writing this dissertation – sometimes i like it, other times I am paralyzed at the enormity of it and all the implications…when I graduate where will I live? where will i go? what will I do? Barnard has been such a haven for the last almost 4 years and giving it up makes me panic a bit.

My folks were here over Christmas and will return for graduation and Summer…should be fun all round. And Tim is looking to colleges and going to Patagonia in 3 weeks and Joel is getting bigger and also not…and life – life has me by the balls…

And I am fixated on the man, on the possibility of this man – not what he is, but what he has the potential to be – in reality he is not a partner, he is not my boo, he is not bae…but the potential to be is there – and that is haunting my soul…because there are glimmers of it, there are the flickers of hope when he puts up “the face” emoticon and I know he does it cause it’s like an inside joke where I say I hate it and he does it still…or when I need to talk and he is there…and when he is busy but follows up with me after and talks. I love the sound of groggy almost asleep voice… and the waking up almost not asleep voice. I love lying against his body and waking entangled in his limbs after we had fallen asleep thus. I know that this fixation may or may not be real – it could be the loneliness talking – it could be the dissertation stress…but I have the insane need to be needed – to feel like a woman loved…and this man offerings sprinklings of this…and although I want more, I’m not even sure that I can deal with more or really want more from him…but I like what this is…it has potential for me…perhaps not with him, but I know that I could have more and that makes me peaceful in my soul…because for a while I believed that I would never find a partner again…someone to share myself with, and I know now that that is simply not true. I will. I have. I will again. So…I will continue looking behind the doors of life…On Jan 5th I went to see what was behind door 1403. And I left a happier person for it.

2pm on Wednesday 31st December 2014…How did I get here?

It’s been quite the year…Dissertation proposal.defended, trip home, parents here for Christmas – Boys doing splendidly at school and in life – looking to applying to colleges for Tim…when did he grow up? He is such a man-boy and meshed in himself and the world around him – strong and steady – dependable as the sun rising and setting and anchoring us all together…Joel – flighty and mighty, leaving a lazy teen-aged trail of life – my stalwart, my talker – the one who supports me and listens and scolds and chastises me…so like me and also not. What a privilege to love these boys and call them mine…while other mothers mourn the loss of their sons and husbands and fathers because…

#Blacklivesmatter

Demoralized by the current reality of the violence – both active and passive – against the Black male body and also SO inspired by the response of protesters and allies – and by the work around my Black Male TFA participants…what do we do, but move forward? There is no other direction to move…

And so 2015 is upon me – Dissertation year, Graduation Year…New York City Marathon year, opportunities and choices and chances…I’m excited and afraid at the same time…I know there is a need to finish chapters, to move forward…

I am certain of one thing – my boys and their love, my parents and their dedication – my love of self and that that will evolve to higher levels as I learn to love myself even harder, make less compromises that don’t suit me; and live hard and to love myself even harder. Life is short – there is little time for regret, so I will act sure and steady and move in the direction of my heart. Come on 2015. I’m here. I’m ready.

Uhhhmmmm – yeah…they said, come defend this proposal on Thursday, June 19th – yesterday was Sunday, June 15th when they said so…and although I want it, I feel both excited and scared spitless…so much that I need a nap. So here I am; feeling much like a child needing a hand to hold, afraid of the ghosts and ghouls under the bed and in the closet. I am going to read it again, and prepare as best as I can – and see what happens. I feel ready…and little crazy…but perhaps that is a crazy good thing. Or maybe just crazy…

Sometimes in life you just gotta look out for number 1. And that’s a truth… many times I look out for everyone around me, not that my people don’t look after me too…but sometimes the self care is necessary and so damned rewarding. Choosing between 2 things that are both beneficial for your health and psyche…how do you do that? Well, I guess it’s about the balances and making the choices that will best serve you in your soul at that point – AND having back-ups.

  So I lay out my clothes and set myself up for the one thing – I was      psyched, and if not physically ready, I was completely psychologically ready. Pink shoes and tight pants. All set. The numbers game was up.

But then I also prepared for my second option and walked through a flash flood as I thought about what I wanted, because I literally could have had them both, but then I would have had to give up some of my top choice – I decided to go with the choice that made my toes curl more, the one I needed to remind myself of my aliveness, of my vitality, of my nakedness and vulnerability, my beauty and desirability and be at ease with it. And so I waited and was rewarded in my soul; and I am happy with my choice. Vibrant, reminded and as my soul is warmed I feel and look alive. And so I build my memories.

 “…I only wanted to see you -Laughing in the purple rain….”
Yep – I love all things purple…it’s my favorite color. It has the ability to come at you in different shades and hues…perhaps light and subtle, like an almost translucent lilac, or bold and dark and forceful like rain clouds pregnant with a storm that will demolish all in it’s path and leave the earth washed clean, like an ablution from God Herself. And as I sit here and look around me I realize that I am surrounded by Purples and Lilacs…my t-shirt, ipad cover, water bottle, pajama pants, make-up bag, running clothes…the mundane and the simultaneously deeply comforting.

Purple blankets my soul in warmth…and so when I saw him again wearing that purple sweater it felt good and warm, and comforting…and made me feel good within the situation…loving it for what it is… I am comfortable with what it is and how it’s navigated and when it envelopes me for that minute, in that space and time, then for that moment, all is at peace inside and I am carried on that purple cloud and washed afresh in that purple rain…and it’s good to know that there’s something…

It’s May…how did it get to be May? And I am in the throes of trying to get the damned dissertation proposal done and as I watch my colleagues and friends defend and propose, I am a little hurt by my lack of being able to bring myself to that place where I, too can say i defended my proposal. I know I have it in me to do this thing and there are gestures to success and yet I wonder what holds me back to just plunge in completely and finish this monster off. I know my work is relevant and good and that it can inform the practice of recruitment of Black Male teachers and yet going through this process is painfully slow and excruciatingly both soul enriching and destroying. All I really want to do is eat chips and watch crappy tv, and lie on a beach and drink brightly colored alcoholic beverages…and teach have a teaching job at a university, doing teacher prep…oh yeah…that’s why I need this damned PhD in the first place. LOL. Silly me. FML.

But in reality, and in the grand schemes of things…my life is great – I changed from the EdD to PhD and am doing my language requirements soon in May, going home in June to my family and to the Soil from which I am…my kids are great – excelling in school and life…and I am evolving continually…at least more than satisfied with my life…ran my first half marathon in April 2014, following up with the Brooklyn Half in May…in a situationship that is being navigated and does indeed bring joy to my heart and soul because it stretches me…as a woman. So really all in all – really not bad at all…not at all.

Give your friends A-list lovin’; for they often outlast that cast of B-list lovers…

A friend of mine posted this little jewel on Facebook a while ago and I was definitely enamored of it. You see, I have some A-list friends…this is one hard truth. They are the ride or die type. BFFs. Sisters. You can call them by all of these titles and then some.

Yesterday the guy I had been dating said “let’s just be friends” and I literally Laughed Out Loud. LOL. I said sure…he had not been anything serious, it was really all about me learning to find myself again as a woman…what I liked, what I was comfortable with and so forth.

And as I ended that conversation with him I knew he was confident that we were entering “into a new phase”…quote, unquote…lol. Poor man does not realize that my friends hold me up, they hold me down, they are ALWAYS available, they never hang up on me, they never lie to me and they my people, my Ubuntu.

He has nothing on them and cannot begin to fathom the level of love I have in my friendships and how unselfishly I love and am loved. I thought to myself about him…Time to Stop. All the way.

How exciting to begin to find my way…to start to tread on the stepping stones…to get back into the game of love and life and adulthood. It’s wonderful to know that I have survived from the hurt my marriage had left me with, that my soul and my dignity are in tact and that I have emerged like the phoenix from the flames. And that as I am blooming, I affirm that I love myself so fiercely. It is a good place to be in. A very good place.

I was told recently by someone that I shine. I was confounded that this man who I had just met the night before had said this to me. He did not mean it in a romantic way – we do not have that kind of a relationship. I loved that he could say this to me quite literally after meeting me and coming into my house and meeting my kids. That he could “see” me. It’s not as if nobody had not told me this before, yet I was struck by the simplicity of his words; so profoundly beautiful and sincere.

I had had a very visceral reaction to meeting him the night before too – I loved him. It was as if our souls knew each other from another time and place. He seemed to me such a tortured soul, yet one who was able to see the beauty and joy and the Love of God infused in the every day. And I love that about him, he encourages those around him and when he looks at you, he sees your soul. It may have been because he was once a monk, or that he is a Marine who has seen the atrocities of humanity’s inhumanity to humanity, and has lived to tell the tale; it may be the torture and trauma of coming out of a failed marriage that I identify with, or the fighting with an ex partner who feels the need to flex proverbial muscles over a child you bore together…but I love him and appreciated his words on that morning.

As I grow more and more into myself I enjoy the acknowledgement of these gifts to my Self; gifts I imagine I walked by so many times in my life. I am grateful to be here in this world, with those who surround and ease my path in this life I lead. It is  great to acknowledge to myself and my creator that the being here is both necessary and appreciated. I am suffused in Joy – some days more joyous than others – but Joy overflows, and I am so very happy to sit and let it wash over me.

A couple of weeks ago I sat on the bench and like on the proverbial analyst’s couch laid bare my soul to a conversation so deep and so near to my spirit that that it both flayed and soothed me. I was able to speak of my fears and really look at myself, at the things I have been, the things I experienced and the things I wanted to experience again and anew… and I was given the gift of being listened to and heard… I had begun to believe that grown men had no interest in hearing a grown woman…but my belief had been misguided by heartache and betrayal… My conversation with myself and him laid my belief on the road of truth and right again…to the possibilities of life; of affections and connections.

On that park bench I made myself vulnerable and open and was rewarded with a quiet understanding and with an acceptance that was deep and felt so palpably genuine. I was given a glimpse of myself through the eyes of another – and in his sight I saw myself as the vulnerable woman I am – the big talker, with a Spirit so bruised and so afraid of being hurt again. What joy to have had that exquisite space because for once in a long, long time I could sit with my vulnerability, and not feel that I needed to be strong and firm and protect my heart. I sat with it…and he sat with it…we sat with it…and it was good. I was overwhelmed…and I could sit with it. I was afraid…and I could sit with it. I felt foolish …and I could sit with it. I was naked…and I could sit with it. I was opening myself…and I could sit with it.

As I felt my heart open little by little I was mystified afresh by the understanding that there are men who can hear women…who know how to sit with silence…who understand that it is good to sit with silence…to let the emotions and feelings wash over others and allow them to be offered solace and ablution…Being there offered succor and a closeness that wrapped me in deep, and my soul was Marked.