Monday, February 24, 2014

IN THE CONTINUUM: Where Are You In The Journey?


I’ve been thinking lots about lineage lately. We’re coming to the end of Black History Month in the states, my birthday is this week, and I recently spent some time with a couple of new babies in addition to my usual work with kids. And not to mention seeing Spike Jonze's latest film, "Her", if you want to talk about the future on another level. So naturally there’s been lots of reflection on past and future.

A friend of mine says that in a village, the most important members are the children and the elders because these groups are both closer to Spirit; further, the job of all the middle aged people in the middle is just to support the children and the elders however we can. The reasoning makes sense, but I’ve never really been sure if I agree with him until recently. For one, what does “closer to Spirit” mean? If we are all one with the Source, the universe, the Divine, God, if you will, how can some of us be “closer” than others? And what do you mean that my “job in the village” is to support the children and elders? I’m pretty sure I have better things to do…like…say, support myself?

With the voices of the ancestors ringing loudly in my ears, with their faces swarming around in my dreams and in my thoughts, little by little I am beginning to understand the amount of perspective that this idea of “supporting the children and elders” brings. For me, this idea is more or less about both laying the ground work for the children to understand the work that must be done in the world, and being a person that allows the elders to transition from this world in peace, somehow knowing that when they leave the work they have done will not have been in vain. Here’s who’s been with me: Audre Lorde, June Jordan, Nina Simone, Gil Scott Heron, and (probably most importantly) my paternal grandmother.

This perspective places me on a continuum. I am grateful for what it tells me about where I am in relation to past and future, and for what it tells me about where I am on my journey.

There are so many things that I have yet to figure out. Not sure if you realized that I haven’t written a blog post in over a month. Giving advice on “joy” hasn’t really seemed quite my speed lately. Every day I know without a doubt how little I know.

That may sound negative, but this acknowledgement has allowed me quite a release. The past few months have been filled with the joy of connection, with both friends and family, deeper intimacy with my husband, and greater acquaintance with my capacity to reach my goals. I am excitedly planning my wedding (yes I’m marrying my husband again-this time in front of friends and family), re-routing my physical health, and looking forward to pursuing a new career path.

Yay for me, but what’s this got to do with you, right? So here’s my joyful finding:

I believe that to experience joy we have to be rooted in a journey. I know many people generally acknowledge that life is a journey, and they usually feel like they’re “going somewhere.” But if you are “going somewhere” that must mean that you are a part of a past and a future, i.e. a continuum.
So that implies there must be others ahead of you and those behind you.

What do you have to offer them? Where are you on your journey? Take a moment (or many moments over time) to put your life in this perspective. Start with the people in your “village” and then widen your scope to think of all the people you don’t know or have yet to meet. What do you have to offer them? How will your spirit greet them?

We all know we won’t be here forever. Wherever you are, be gentle and let joy be a part of your gift.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

The Fight For Joy



I decided to do something a little different! Happy Holidays, Joy In The City! Here's to you and your fight for joy. Continue. Continue. Continue. You have what it takes!

Thanks for watching!

Sunday, December 15, 2013

The French Connection: Growth Goals and The Gentle Process of Being


Been meaning to talk about this for some time. Having a lazy Sunday in Paris recovering from jetlag, so here’s my moment.

How do you deal with failure?

Sometimes we have a hard time starting a new undertaking because when we have a new idea sometimes all we can see are all the failed attempts of our past.

If you’re anything like me, chances are you have had the experience of starting a project with lots of gutso and somehow losing motivation, interest, or being carried off by something new before you bring it to completion.

Or what about things that aren’t necessarily projects but steps toward self improvement? Don’t you hate it when you start on something to better yourself and you somehow fall off the horse and never get to see that transformation you envisioned?

Sometimes you fall off the horse and get back on and fall off again and get back on, but after that happens so many times, your energy can start feeling depleted and so can your morale. Then you start to hear that voice that says, “What’s the point?” and you get that itch to just throw in the towel.

I’m kind of sick of reading things about this and just hearing the same old “Dust yourself off and try again” messages. There’s something deeper than just having the perseverance/motivation/resilience to start again. I’m sorry, but sometimes your will power just isn’t strong enough to carry you through the pain of past failures.

There must be something more to this than just talking yourself into trying again. 

Case in point:

Here I am in France again and I know that as soon as my husband and I begin to meet up with his friends and family, I’ll be faced with that old language barrier that I hate. I’ve been trying to improve my French since we met 2 years ago. I took it in school, but never used it and now it’s a steady project for me.

It’s tempting to think about the first time I was here a year ago and how intimidated I was with all the quick conversations and nuanced jokes going on around me that I didn’t even speak a word. With the exception of ordering at bakeries and restaurants, I completely relied on him for translation. I didn’t do any of the practicing I planned on. I made a few jokes here and there with his friends, but mostly I felt like a total failure and yet another lazy American visiting a country without speaking the language. Ouch!

So here’s my big realization on this and all other ongoing projects and new undertakings.

If we make perfection the goal, we are unknowingly setting ourselves up for failure.
Sometimes we begin something with this idea in our heads of total transformation. You know how it is, dreamers!

Instead of doing this, why not make growth the goal? If we say to ourselves that we’d like to see this amount of growth in this amount of time, we can celebrate our milestones. We can congratulate ourselves on gradual improvements.



This isn’t to say that we should forget about mastery and transformation, but this is a far more gentle way to approach what is, after all, a lifelong process. The lifelong process is learning. Whatever we are doing, we are learning. When we make growth our goal, when we commit ourselves to process, we can never fail. This, in long term sustains our energy, to continue even through set-backs and to start again if we ever fall off.   

We cannot transform through negative self talk. We must develop the muscle to speak to ourselves in a gentle voice. It is a practice. A great way to start is by making growth your goal, not perfection.

Growth is the never ending process of your life. Commit yourself to that and failure will be irrelevant and whole lot less scary.

I encourage you to add the simple goal of growth to your thought process as the new year approaches. Not perfection, not total transformation, just growth. Sweet, simple, gentle growth.

How do you begin again, Joy In The City readers? What is the secret of your growth process? I’d love your thoughts. As always, thanks for reading.

Check out that leap!!!!!!

 

 

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Move! Get Out The Way! Who Gets In the Way of Your Brilliance?


Yesterday, I went to a brunch organized by my friend, Rhonda Khan. She had gathered together a group of “creatives” to share a meal and discuss where we are in our respective creative lives, what challenges we face, and to see how we could support one another in our endeavors.  What a blessing to be invited and to share time and space with such talented, lovely people!

As I was sitting listening to each person share their story, I couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that almost every person present knew exactly what he/she needed to do to get the things they want accomplished. The buzz words like “accountability,” “deadlines,” and “motivational style” flowed freely, and while there were many practical matters discussed, I found myself wondering why we face challenges in doing the things we love, especially when we know exactly what the issues are.

If we have all of this knowledge and self awareness, what’s the problem? Why do we continue to get in our own way? We read the books; we are members of supportive communities; we see art that inspires us; we create things that we believe in; yet, we still feel that something is missing. We still feel as if we lack the motivation to accomplish our goals, we don’t know how to sustain motivation to the fruition of our projects, and we wonder how to organize our lives so that our art is more than just something we do when we’re not working other un-related (sometimes full time) jobs. What’s up with that?!


I realized that the answer lies in something I learned from Dr. Brené Brown. Brené is a storyteller and researcher, who does work around shame and vulnerability. If you are not familiar with her work, check out her groundbreaking TED Talk here. 

Among many things, she says that it is not that we don’t know what to do or what we need, it is that we don’t talk about—and get specific about—the things that get in the way. Until we are specific about “what gets in the way”, we will continue to live in crippling generalizations and quick fixes.

We can talk about what we need to do ad infinitum. But unless we’re getting specific about the root of the matter, we will be taking valuable time from the work and not fostering the energy we need to accomplish our heart’s desires. Isn’t that something? All the things that are meant to help you could actually be draining your energy, unless you are specific about what works for you.

Getting specific about what gets in the way and what works for you is hard. It requires honesty. Honesty requires consciousness. Practicing consciousness is painful. It is a journey that never ends. But I know that the rewards are real.

What gets in your way? What keeps you stuck in your habits? Be gentle as you answer. Honesty does not have to be brutal.

We each have patterns that have dictated our outcomes. What are yours? 

I have become more reflective as we come to the end of the year, as I usually do. I am going into my last week of work before I go spend the holidays in France with my love and his family.

As I reflect, I know how certain challenges make me tremble and send me running for the comfort of my bed or some other handy diversion. These moments are natural. But they cannot be the norm.

I am peeling back a new layer of honesty in hopes that I will become that much more entwined with living my joy.
  
What gets in your way? Be honest. Be specific. Here is a chance for a new beginning.

Feel free to share your thoughts below on what gets in the way or on the NEW JOY IN THE CITY FACEBOOK PAGE. Thank you all for your likes! Keep 'em coming!

  

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Heart Work (And Every Little Thing You Do)


It has been a hot minute, Joy in The City Readers. Months have gone by since I wrote you, but, in the words of Celie from The Color Purple to her beloved Nettie, “…always, whatever I am doing, I am writing you.” See, only you serious Color Purple fans out there know that line!

But I digress!

The past few months have been dedicated to lots of heart work. I began a new work schedule, I’ve been knee deep in wedding planning (woot! woot!), I began to interview people for a solo show I am developing (more on that), and I wrote a play that is being workshopped in November!  That ‘writing a play’ thing is huge. It was a long time coming. Finally the story just fell out of me, then came the actors, and now there’s a director, and in November there will be an audience. Dreams do come true.

That may seem to be all external work, but really all of it is heart work.  As a matter of fact, these days the division between external work and internal productivity is feeling more and more non-existent.

You know what heart work is, right? It’s that quiet work that is always going on beneath the surface. For the spiritual among us, it could be called “the prayer that you are always walking.” Or you can call it the dialogue that exists between your mind and your heart, or the work that never really ceases, the commitment to your inner compass...you get the point.

Every bit of work we put into our personal growth, stuff that we don’t usually put on display—things like speaking our truth even when it is scary, journaling, meditating, doing something courageous everyday, being present with our emotions even when they make us uncomfortable—has the potential to grow into a piece of external work that you are proud of.

Seems obvious as all hell, but it isn’t always. I know plenty of people who live this quiet work. Sometimes not much seems to be going on at the surface, but the wheels are always turning. They are dedicated to growth, not to attention, not to the thrill of endless facebook posts (no judgment, but you know what I’m talking about), or creating an image of success. They do the heart work and then sometimes the other stuff follows. 

Today’s post is for those people.

Speaking of those people, a recent piece of the heart work  for me was about creating community. The more I get honest about how things work and don’t work for me, the more I have been able to get honest about my need for a community.

Here’s what happened a few weeks ago.

I was reading a book that was hard for me to process. It was ironic. I understood exactly what the book meant, every word that I read hit close to home. But every time I picked it up, I got knots in my stomach. Soon, I realized what was going on. What I was reading was holding a mirror up that I wasn’t quite ready to look in. It was a tough pill to swallow. But I’ve always believed the adage that the book you are holding is the one you are meant to be reading, so I knew that I couldn’t give up. But it was still so hard!

So I decided to send an email to some women friends, some who I am very close with and have known for years and others that are newer friends that I’d like to establish a deeper relationship with.

I asked for help.

The email told about my journey reading the book and asked if any of them would be willing to accompany me on the ride, as in start a reading circle where we read together and discuss our findings. Almost everyone replied saying that they need something like this in their life and that they would be glad to read the book with me. We begin the circle starting next week. 

It was scary for me to send that email asking for this community, but I did. We have to speak our truth and ask for what we need. Sending that email was a small step. It was scary, but I don’t think it was earth shattering. It was a quiet piece of heart work that has the potential to do so much for the personal growth of all the people involved.

I’m convinced that that’s how lots of things are. Sometimes work is done quietly, and the result is enormous. Sure, a small circle of women reading a book may not be the biggest deal in the world, but I know it can make a world of difference, at least in this corner of the universe.

So there you have it. Heart work. What is your heart work? What small quiet things are you doing to remind your inner voice that you still hear it and that you aren’t afraid to take a risk and answer its call? 

If you listen to this voice long enough, and continue your heart work, whatever it may be, I know unthinkable surprises are bound to happen.




Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Hey Good Lookin'! (And Other Notes On My Hair, This Strange Microcosm of Myself)



I love wearing my hair natural. Yes. I’m writing about my hair. This is a blog about attaining joy and I believe feeling proud of your appearance is an integral part of that.

My last relaxer (aka hair straightening chemical perm) was when I was 16, and I did the big chop cutting off the rest of my relaxed hair at 17.

That was 11 years ago when I was an outspoken (albeit introverted) teenager who spoke out about Euro-centric notions of beauty whenever I got the chance to express an opinion, related to hair or not.

Wearing my hair natural was a political statement more than a personal declaration of owning my beauty, though that was one of the many claims I made. I generally liked my appearance, but I didn’t consider my hair as a part of that. I thought of it as a fact of who I am, and trained myself to be indifferent, thinking that indifference is at least better than the prevalent dislike or seeming hatred for natural black hair that I was becoming so aware of.

And that is the way it has been until fairly recently. I never really thought of my natural hair as beautiful.

And then something changed.

I had been wearing my hair in long double strand twists for over a little over a year, and then I took them out in July.

And that’s when the change started happening.


Now for the first time in my adult life, I truly LOVE my hair. It strikes me as so much more than just a fact of who I am. I am utterly proud of my kinks, knots, and tightly sprung coils. I love the way it retains shape. I love that because of it I feel more deeply connected to nature and my ancestry.  I find it fun, sexy, and even attractive.

Since I went natural, I have worn my hair buzzed close to my head, in double strand twists (with extensions and without), and mostly I have worn a simple afro of varying lengths, but I have not put any sort of chemical straightener in my hair for all 12 years.

And then last week, I purchased a flat iron and straightened my hair. I was going to 2 weddings (see previous post), and wanted to look different. A part of me was also curious about what my hair would look like straight after all this time. 

I was not prepared for what happened.

During the lead up to straightening my hair, my mind flashed to all the years spent being taken to hairdressers by my mother to perm my hair. I hated it. I hated how my hair burned even if I was careful not to scratch it before my appointment. I hated the various styles that the stylist would put in my hair that made me feel as if I was someone else. And most of all, I hated how my hair was always talked about in degrading terms, as if it was only a problem to be solved.

I got my first relaxer around the time I was 6, so by the time I was a teenager, I was anxious and curious to see what my actual hair looked like. And so I did. It was liberating.

And then I started talking and wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t stop talking about how absurd it was that most of the women I knew didn’t know what their actual hair looked like. I was mortified at the self-hatred we all seemed to possess related to our natural appearance.

But there I was, only understanding a concept cerebrally but not fully possessing the heart of understanding. It looked like I loved my hair, this strange microcosm of myself, (“Hey! I’m natural, right?!”), but really I didn’t. For one thing, I only did the bare minimum to take care of it. One of the main reasons I went natural was because I didn’t want to care for my hair, which is silly because you actually need to take care of your hair even more as a natural, especially in a market place that largely does not understand natural black hair.   

In the days leading up to straightening my hair, I felt myself become like a protective mother of my hair. I decided to only straighten my hair with the flat iron on a relatively low heat so the final product looked more like a blowout than bone straight permed hair. I just couldn’t bear to alter my hair so drastically, even if it was chemical free.

Over these past weeks I have become acquainted with lots of natural hair blogs, among which CurlyNikki is certainly my favorite. She gave me great guidelines for protective therapy (steps to take to protect natural hair from heat damage before straightening) for my hair before I straightened it. Bloggers like CurlyNikki are true sister champions, guiding women through making the transition to natural hair, offering advice for hair care, and even providing a forum for speaking about psychological trauma related to our hair.

It was through reading these blogs that I became inspired to be as fierce about taking care of my hair as I am about taking care of other parts of my being; not just as an act of necessary maintenance, as I usually do, but as an act of love-- more than just a mere fact of my being, more than just an intellectual concept, but as a sexy, interesting, fun, and attractive, part of my appearance.

This morning I moisturized my hair with unrefined shea butter and put it in protective leave in style of “flat” twists. When I started writing this entry, I was in a coffee shop. When I walked into the relatively small coffee shop, I was immediately blown away by the beauty of 2 other natural sisters with leave in do’s. Crowns of braids and bantu knots. I was struck by the beauty of our 3 different hair types. So healthy and natural. I silently toasted us and joyfully began this blog.

What is your journey with self acceptance in regard to your appearance? Is there something about how you look that you secretly hate? Let that go. Find a new way to love every aspect of how you look, whatever that may mean for you.

Believe me, you are a part of the world’s endless beauty. And on this clear summer day, with the wind whispering the secrets of autumn, I can see your beauty all the way from over here.

 Shortly after I took out my twists:



And this is me today smiling at you:



 




Thursday, August 8, 2013

Brush Them Haters Off! Go On! Brush 'Em Off!


I had been enduring weeks of negative self-talk. You know that booming voice that goes off in your head sometimes that insists and demands that you don’t deserve any of the wonderful things that are happening in your life (or that you want to happen in your life, for that matter). For me this voice has a tendency to creep up right when things are going beautifully.

I’d been ecstatic over the amazing developments in my personal and professional life. 2 films screening, one of which is making festival rounds, completing my first play (as a writer), enjoying the process of being in a play (as an actor), domestic bliss with my partner, fun times with friends... My life couldn’t seem more perfect.

And then lo and behold, I began to look at myself with the eyes of the cruelest critic…the kind who would put Ben Brantley to shame and make him seem as tender and sympathetic as a teddy bear. The voice that points out every failure, every embarrassing moment, every seemingly insurmountable struggle that I have ever faced, and says,

“You don’t deserve this happiness.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Don’t forget you’re…” 

And then the voice wouldn’t quit for days. It dragged me around. We fought.  And then I slowly began to allow it to have its rants without engaging with it in mental battles. It would rant and I would silently glare at it, as gently as a loving parent allowing a child to talk or cry itself silent. And gradually it shut the hell up. VICTORY!!!!!  Sweet sweet victory.

I wonder how many of you read the title of the blog entry and assumed that I was talking about other people hating on you. Sometimes we don’t realize that the biggest hater is our self. For all the loving self -talk, the critic never seems to completely die. It pops up right when everything is splendid, right when you think you can relax a bit and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

The critic isn’t all bad. Every part of the psyche is there for a purpose. The critic is there to make sure that you stay on your “game,” to make sure no amount of success makes you stop striving. Most importantly, it keeps you cautious. But we also know that the critic can be excessively negative and sound eerily like a parent, or some other authority figure that you were afraid you could never please as a child. That’s where the critic oversteps its bounds: when it no longer serves you, but seeks to keep you small and afraid. 

Not only does it keep you small and afraid, it utterly sabotages, and steals, your joy.

In a few days 2 women who have inspired me and blessed me with their friendship will be getting married to the men of their dreams. It is beyond belief that they happen to both be getting married on the same day, that I was invited to both, and that I am fortunate enough to be able to attend both ceremonies. This Saturday, I will attend 2 weddings and the man who I will be happily marrying in the presence of our friends and family in 2015 will accompany me.  

This is the time of our lives.

In the coming years, I will witness my friends get married, have success in their careers, find love, have children, deepen their hearts, and be all around amazing. These things will most likely happen for me as well. This is the joy that can’t be missed. I want my eyes and heart wide open for this. I want front row seats.

Now, as we know, sometimes as happiness and success come about, there also arrives our friendly critic, full of fear, full of panic, wondering if it really is possible for all of this to be so good. There must be a catch somewhere, right? You can’t possibly deserve all this goodness. 

Wrong. Dead wrong. Brush that hater off. Tell it to get lost. You don’t have time. I know saying these things is one thing, but how does one successfully quiet this voice of negativity?

I just discovered a few ways that work for me. Maybe they will work for you too?

1.     Do not engage in mental tug of war with the negative voice. Somehow arguing with it validates it. Just have the courage to do what I like to call the “stare down.” Stare it down. Develop an inner gaze that watches it peacefully and silently. Soon it will know who is bigger and dissolve.

2.     Want something bad enough and pursue it with so much heart, passion, and drive that you simply don’t have time to listen to negativity. Every time I do something physically demanding I hear a small voice of negativity somewhere. But my eyes are so glued on what I want and I have so much passion that I barely hear it.

3.     Do something simple that makes you feel fabulous. Yesterday I made a homemade deep conditioner for my hair and just pampered myself. My hair was amazingly soft and I felt like a queen. (Ask me for the recipe! It’s great!) I had swathed myself in so much love that, even if there was any negativity around, I was too busy feeling good to care.


Doesn’t all of that sound simple and obvious? It is. But it takes time and—I think—maturity. So next time some negative inner critic comes knocking at your psyche’s door, running its mouth, talking your ear off, stealing your joy, try one (or all) of the above. The time is now. Brush off the haters and enjoy the ride.