I work near a very busy intersection in Las Vegas where you cross that street at your own risk. Every now and again I take that risk for a visit to the little donut shop on the corner. I was in a particularly good mood this morning and as I am heading to the intersection to cross the street I notice a blind man limping his way to the stop light cane in hand and dark shades on his eyes as he presses the button at the cross walk.

 I stand quite a distance back to make sure he has room to maneuver his cane and get off the curb safely.  I look up to the sky and give God a nod for my gift of sight and say a little prayer that this guy makes it across 8 lanes of traffic sans hit and run. Cars are zooming by at speeds higher than the 45 mph legal limit and I notice Mr. Blind Man stepping off the curb. Now, being the nice, thoughtful, and compassionate person that I am; I jump in front of the man throwing my arm across his abdomen the way you do to prevent a child from being jerked forward when you have to make an immediate stop in the car. I admonished the man and told him it was not time for him to cross yet and he should wait for the voice on the intercom to let him know it was safe for him to cross. I also let him know (because obviously someone had not told him) that the voice on the intercom was made especially for blind people so they know when to cross.

Mr. Blind Man, with a disgusted look that communicated a fusion of “why are you touching me, “and “you’re lucky you are a woman or I might have socked you one in the right eye,” pushes me off of him and lets me know (because obviously someone had not told me) with just as much admonition, “I know I can’t cross yet and I am NOT blind.” I step back and sincerely state, “Oh well I am sorry. This is a busy intersection and cars were still zooming past so when you stepped off the curb I assumed you couldn’t see.”

“So just because I step off a curb you think that makes me blind? I was stepping of the curb because I got this limp and I wanted the extra time to get across the street.”

“Well this street is not the safest place for you to step of f the curb because these people on the road drive crazy.”

He mumbles, “Yes and some people walking on the road are crazy.”

At this point I am livid because I was just trying to help him out. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t blind? Now if he was blind and I just let the man start crossing all the crazy driving people would have had the fingers wagging in my face asking me why I didn’t help the visually impaired man when he tried to walk into oncoming traffic. Ok so he wasn’t blind and he didn’t need my help so why all the attitude? I was trying to do right thing and not the wrong thing so he could be a little more appreciative that there were still considerate people in the world. But nooooo, Mr. Blind Man (who’s actually not blind) had the nerve to cop an attitude with me! And within seconds my super powers over came me and the dismissive bitch was on the scene to rectify the situation. 

“Your limping ass is walking around here with a damn cane and shades. The average person would think you were a blind man. At least I cared enough to take the risk that you might not be blind and attempt to help you anyways. But forget that, have fun crossing the street. Your wobbly legs and your cane now have 25 seconds to get you across Charleston Boulevard.” The light changes and I speed walk across the intersection knowing he can actually see my dust as he eats it.

And that is how the evil bitch did her good deed for the day. Like I stated earlier; I am nice, thoughtful, and compassionate until you push me. And Mr. Blind Man (who’s not actually blind) pushed me.

I have a really good friend who is about 25 years my senior. **Side-note** it is good to keep friends who are a bit older than you if nothing but for the sake of watching someone go through what you may eventually go through and taking notes. Anyhow, a while back this dear friend of mine asked me about when I planned to get married. I let her know the plans were in order just as soon as the nice guy with some financial stability (not including hustles and illegal means of revenue), intelligence, all of his teeth, a good heart,  and a power stroke came along I was ready and willing. We laughed it off but she got serious and told me, “Look if you actually want to be married one day then you really need to get on it. Not because you are getting older or that all the good men will be taken but because you are spending more of your adult life independently and being married is hard to do when you have spent most of your adult life doing what you want to do, how you want it done, and when you want to do it.”

Essentially she was saying, the more time I spend “unmarried” the more I will get stuck in my ways and it will be harder to compromise when it comes to being married. So being the argumentative personality I am, I had to respectfully disagree. I have met so many men and women who complain about having gotten married so young and never got to experience just being on their own and doing their own thing and not worrying about what anyone else had to say about it. So I relish in the idea of some nights not wanting to do the dishes or some weeks letting the laundry pile up, or playing my music really loud, or staying up late reading, or eating ice cream in bed, or becoming the freakazoid neat freak that can sniff out a speck of dust with utter frustration and do it all without annoying another human being at all (except Amira of course but she has no choice in the matter.)

I also had to make mention of the fact that being independent for so long allowed me the opportunity to know myself a little better and make a better decision than some when it came to choosing a life partner. I know what type of personality and living habits will work well with my own so I probably won’t be the type of woman to marry just for love. Yeah I need to know we can work well together. I am by no means a traditional woman so as much as I may love someone  know better than to marry a man who believes his wife should do all the cooking, cleaning, and submit to his final authority. Not gonna happen over here! If we’re not doing it together then what do I need a partner for?

My brother is always talking to my mom worried that I won’t find anyone. He is scared I will end up alone. It’s comical to me only because he doesn’t see how I feel like he may end up alone because he got married to soon. I know he and his wife may not want to hear that but I do know deep down that they probably both find some truth in it just the same. I would rather be IN-dependent before CO-dependent any day. I have seen many lives so intertwined in love and misery that the path to true fulfillment in life becomes nothing short of a complicated maze.

However, I do take his concerns and my friend’s concerns with much credence. Could there possibly be a state of too much independence? Can a person become too self-reliant crippling their ability to become dependent on anyone for anything, even love? Perhaps. I can see how living an overly independent life can lead to being more controlling, uncompromising behavior but I don’t think I am at that place just yet. I don’t live my life in complete solitude. I am around family and friends as much as possible. I ask others’ opinion on certain matters, and if you ask my dad on his paydays I am still very dependent on him so I think I know how to rely on someone I deem trustworthy and dependable.

So as we celebrate the founding fathers Declaration of Independence I also celebrate my own. When they signed the Declaration of Independence on that July 4^th, 1776 they didn’t do so without an alliance. They had the help of the French, the Spanish, and the Dutch in combating the British army. And I also have the alliance of my friends and family as I declare  my own independence, my own inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because I know it’s my happiness that they are ultimately concerned with.

This was me and Amira’s first Fourth of July together in about 3 years. Being the jetsetter she is, Amira is usually away visiting family somewhere during the fourth of July while I stayed home doing who knows what. There were no plans set in stone except I did want to take her to the movies because we both couldn’t wait to see the third installation of the Transformers movie franchise.

There was an Independence Day Jubilee at the park so I took her there so we could listen to the bands and grub on carnival snacks and watch the fireworks a couple of days before the fourth. We had fun just her and me but she wasn’t as excited as I hoped she would be. She kept asking me if I invited anyone to come with us and I said yes but since the park was a bit of a distance away from most of the rest of the family I didn’t expect anyone to come. Being an only child she is very familiar with independence. She often plays independently, watches television independently, eats independently, etc. so she craves group socialization. Since it’s usually just she and I, it isn’t seen as anything special or unique or holiday-like when we just hang out together because we do that all the time. I often feel like the greatest let down I have given my daughter is not giving her any siblings. It is such an inner battle between feeling justified in not wanting to be the single mother of more than one child (one kid to raise alone was definitely more than enough for me) and feeling like my daughter is missing out on certain childhood experiences that only occur with having siblings; like getting in trouble together, getting blamed for something the other one did, always having someone to play with, someone to share secrets with, someone to laugh at mom with, etc. I look back at my childhood now and think about how much fun I actually did have with my brothers and sister even though at the time I wished my parents would have just had only me and then my life would have been perfect.

It’s funny because I have friends who also have one child their kids don’t seem to mind being the only child. They don’t beg for a brother or sister or feel sad when they see other kids playing with their siblings like Amira does. So then I feel like well maybe she was a soul that wasn’t meant to be an only child.

So on this Independence Day she did not get what I used to get every summer growing up. There was no dad on the grill arguing with her auntie, no cousins in the yard throwing water balloons and lighting fireworks, no scheming to see whose house they would all stay the night at, no family sing along, or spades or dominoes games breaking out, instead it was just she and I at the movies, then off to visit my mom and then off to visit my dad. She said she had fun but I know that was just her response for my sake. She did nothing but talk about how last year when she was in Michigan with her Auntie Wendy and Uncle Ken how the whole neighborhood got together and they played all day and all night and watched fireworks and got to light fireworks, and they went to the lake, and they went to someone else’s house for barbecue. But what could I do? Even though I live in the same city as the majority of my family we are all truly independent. My aunt and uncle really don’t do many family gatherings (although they are getting better at it) my brother has his own wife and family, my mother lives alone, my dad is remarried, my sister never has her kids so she does her own thing, my other brother is a bum so I am sure he was somewhere bumming off someone, my cousins all have the same story, married, other family, no plans, etc. So, basically everyone was doing their own thing as we normally do. It used to make me sad because we weren’t always like this. And especially when I see other families get together or if a friend invites me to be with their family for a special occasion or for no reason at all, I think why does it seem so hard for my family to be able to do things like this together? And also, maybe if there were more times like this then maybe Amira would not feel so bad about being an only child. Almost the way a woman my coo over a cute, soft, precious, sweet-smelling, newborn but then be filled with delight to hand the baby back to its mother when it’s time for a diaper change or the baby gets too fussy. Maybe she would get her fill of the big group life and then be glad it’s back to just me and her.

Either way, Amira and I rang in Independence Day 2011 independently dependent on one another. And what I hope is that one day she will look back on these days and cherish having her mother all to herself and eventually become grateful for the bond our independence has created for us.

Now all of that leads me to a question I have been contemplating the past few days. Why does it seem that only unavailable (emotional or otherwise) men are the ones who recognize how great of a woman I am? I came up with a theory to answer these questions. Okay now this is going to move quickly so follow along closely:

1. I.                   Premise:  We attract people based on where our self-confidence lies
2. II.                Premise: Men are mostly visual creatures and normally experience attraction based on physical appearance
3. III.             Inference:  If a man is unavailable he will tend to attempt to reel in his attraction to other women by maintaining his interaction with them on an intellectual and platonically friendly level in order to avoid the temptation of cheating.
4. IV.              Conclusion: If my self-confidence (which is what others will find most attractive about me and what will attract people to me) is in my intellect, personality, and friendship then unavailable men who would only be seeking to know me on those levels are the ones most likely to recognize this about me. Hence this is why so many unavailable men find themselves attracted to me.

So according to this argument the next logical step would be for me to increase my self-confidence in my physical appearance in order to attract available men. Now this is not to say that unavailable men aren’t and don’t act on physical attraction. Because ((hand-raised)) believe me I know they do. However, if I am trying to balance my attraction with more available men than unavailable men then I think it would be necessary to play to the tendencies of available men. Well that in turn just presents another conundrum because I don’t want someone to want me based on my looks, because hell I have some bad days where my hair is in a bun,  I am in flats, and I am wearing my comfortable clothes (not my sexy clothes), and I still want this person to want me. I want someone to want me and be mainly attracted to me because I am an awesome friend to them, because we can have a good time together no matter what we’re doing, because I am smart, and because I have a good heart.

Now, of course I want someone who does find me physically attractive. Everybody wants to be wanted and desired. But what I am saying is I don’t want that to be the main ingredient to their attraction to me. Because if it is, when the woman who is prettier, sexier, thinner, more voluptuous, etc. comes a long then I run the risk of jealousy and fear of “losing” this person because there is always someone more “something” than I am.

BUT no one is more “Alcinia” than I am and I can be confident in me. So if the guy is attracted to the virtues that make up my “Alcinia-ness” then he can meet Beyonce one on one for a candle-lit dinner in a secluded hotel room off a remote island near Fiji and I won’t worry about it because as sexy-fine as Beyonce is, she’s not Alcinia and she never ever could be me.  And he will be sitting there saying “Beyonce who?” … Well maybe not really, but you all get my point.

I guess in all of that I am just left with appreciating the fact that the unavailable men recognize my fabulosity while I dodge their come-ons and suggest that they hook me up with one of their single friends that are at least 5’11, no kids, good credit, and a killer smile.

Sometimes our prayers get answered without us realizing it. A couple of years back I was at this crossroad of “what to do with my life?” I didn’t want to be one of those people who spent 20 years doing something they hated only to realize they had always wanted to do something totally different with their lives. Then again I didn’t want to be one of those people who spent 20 years chasing a dream. I mean, I have a daughter to feed, clothe, and house so I needed to be practical about how to make money now!

Then, I got this challenge from my friend Ms. Erica Page to do this 30-day letter challenge. This challenge meant that I was to blog a letter to a different person every single day for 30 days. And in typical Alcinia fashion I only got about half way through the 30 letter and in about triple the time. But what can I am an artist (prounounced: ar-teest) and you have to feel for it to be worth anything of value. But this challenge set off a fire storm of recognizing my gift and my talent of writing both within myself and also by others.

I have had this blog for quite a few years now and other than close friends and family I never had much traffic to the site. But once I joined the challenge and I started publicly sharing the blog with others the traffic easily doubled. The blessing in that was people began to share with me the effectiveness of my writing. I have had  numerous personal messages emailed and inboxed to me from Facebook of people telling me how my writing had affected them and how they enjoyed it. There were people who I would have never thought would take the time to read a blog responding to me and without me realizing it; reaffirming to me what my gift and my talent was.

See I believe we can only be happy when our gifts and talents are used in a way that sustains us, whether it is being used to sustain us financially or emotionally or even physically. If we aren’t using them and cultivating them then I think we become most miserable. John W. Gardner, a former US Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare under the Lyndon B. Johnson Administration said, “True happiness involves the full use of one’s power and talents.” And at that time I was totally unsure of what my talent was or how to use it to sustain me which also made me so unhappy with myself and with my life. I felt I had no goals and no direction and that is a terrible place to be in. But through this blog and all the responses I have received (both negative and positive) I have come to realize my personal legend. I have realized the talent that I possess that I can use to sustain me. It is my writing.

For now my writing is just sustaining me emotionally and spiritually. My soul needs to write like my body needs water; it can only go so long without it. But now I am working on getting my talent to sustain me financially. I want a job that does not feel like work at all but feels like the reason God blessed me with mercy of a brand new morning when I open my eyes. So now I have determined my gift and I am following my personal legend, and all without realizing my prayer had actually been answered.

Cinco de Mayo

So it’s Cinco de Mayo and that means Mexican cuisine and margaritas for most that recognize and celebrate this holiday. But a friend of mine encouraged me to look up the historical significance of Cinco de Mayo and here is the short version: General Ignazio Zargoza defeated the French invasion at Puebla with only 4,500 soldiers against France’s 6,500 soldiers on the 5^th of May 1862. If we are doomed to repeat history if we do not learn from it I thought to do more than just take this holiday to indulge in my favorite Mexican dishes and sip on some margaritas but I had to know what could I learn from this famous battle at Puebla?

Here was an army with significantly fewer resources and power than its enemy but they were determined not to allow their country to be overtaken. Here was a general who did not retreat against the slightest of odds but ran against his adversities and adversaries with everything he had. And in the past month I have faced some serious adversities and adversaries.

See Mexico only even came to this battle with the French after France initially offered them a helping hand. They acted as a friend to Mexico lending them money during a previous war where they fought for their independence from Spain. But after winning that war against Spain, France was ready to collect on the loan. There is a saying that goes, “all money ain’t good money.” Sometimes you can take from someone but you have to look at the cost. Sometimes you have to wonder why someone is choosing to be so generous with you without and obvious direct profit from doing so. Be careful of the people who only have flattering things to tell you and don’t take the opportunity to offer you the ugly truth.  I had people I considered friends who said they would be there for me whenever I needed them. I let them in when I should have contemplated what their true intentions were. See, everyone who does for you does not always have their best interests at heart. I, just like Mexico, learned that the hard way. And in an instant I felt attacked by the very people who claimed would be there for me. And I did just as Mexico did… I fought back! With the odds stacked against me and facing losing everything I thought I gained and even more in anticipation of gaining I stood up for myself.

But just like Mexico the victory was short-lived. France just came back with 30,000 soldiers and took over the capital Mexico City and set up their own ruler. And after I stood up to my adversities they came back harder and stronger and set up Depression as the ruler in my life. I was in a very dark place. I felt like a hopeless failure. Here I was again, having to defend myself against people I had allowed into my life. Why didn’t I get the lesson the first time? And on top of that I hit some financial strains that broke me both monetarily and emotionally. Nobody wants to be turning 30, on their way to adulthood still trying to learn to be an adult. Maybe that is how Mexico felt. Why didn’t they learn after dealing with the Spanish on how to be selective on who they counted as an ally? And how were they ever going to ever be an autonomous nation if they still owed so much to other nations.

Every attempt I made at being happy, conquering the ruler Depression, proved fruitless. Then I decided I needed to reach out for some help. I often privately refer to them as my angels but I knew I was dying on the inside and if I didn’t get some divine intervention I would eventually be dead in actuality. These were people who showed their true intentions. These were people who needed to see me succeed because their destiny was tied to mine. There are occasions in your life and instances that will take place to show you people for who they really are and what purpose they serve in your life. Mexico also eventually received political and military aid from the United States in 1867, which led to the French ruler being shot and the rest of the French army being driven out of Mexico. See, whether Abraham Lincoln knew it or not the destiny of the United States was tied to Mexico. Most of our southern bordered states were at one time properties of Mexico. We would not be the great United States of America that we are without Southern California, Nevada, Texas, Louisiana, etc.

And my angels did the same thing. I thought it was already over for me. Shoot, I had spoken to a therapist who told me I needed to check myself into a hospital for psychiatric evaluation and when I refused I was coerced into returning the very next day for a 6 AM session or the authorities would be contacted because she believed I could be a danger to myself. When I tell you Depression had taken over, it had moved all the way in and was kicking all of my joy and peace of mind out! But then my angels came in and literally stalked me back into sanity. They assassinated the despair in my heart and have been working with me to drive out everything else that would try to tear me down because when your destiny is tied to another’s you can see the bigger picture. You can see that the story of your own life won’t reach its full potential without this person reaching theirs. These angels of mine were not just going to sit back and watch me fade away. And because of that I have been able to reassess my own worth. I realized that just as they are tied to me; it means that I am also tied to them, and if they weren’t failing and drowning in misery then I was not supposed to either and neither did have to any longer.

In the midst of continuing struggles somehow joy and peace have found their way back home. I have been able to learn to better discern who and what is good for me in my life and what is not. So this Cinco de Mayo holiday I honor General Zargoza’s victorious battle against the French at Puebla by celebrating the victory against depression that occurred in my own life.

I would have to say that fear of being alone is such a common thread amongst women but I think particularly so amongst black women. Why? Because often when you see a black woman she is exactly that, alone. Whether it is raising a child alone, or walking the streets alone, or ambitiously trudging a career path alone.  In the media we don’t’ see images of a typical black woman (typical meaning natural hair, brown to dark skin tone, thicker physique) as the object of affection. In print ads and television and movies we see the lone black woman more often than not. So maybe this fear isn’t so unwarranted coupled with many or even most of us being raised by single mothers or knowing someone who is. And even if mom is married, I have often observed how dad is somewhat of a detached figure. At kid-friendly events in the community for the whole family, many times you can’t tell the difference between the single black mom and the married black mom because both are there with their children alone. I grew up in a two parent home where my biological mother and father were married to each other and we rarely did things together outside of the house together as a family. It was either mom or dad who took us to the park or a movie or wherever. There is nothing like being together drives out the fear of alone-ness.

I think it is that fear of being alone that makes so many women, especially black women, stay in unhealthy relationships and to not require what we deserve in a partner. I have seen so many black women hold on to the idea of wedded bliss while their husbands lie and cheat and beat on them . I have seen so many black women stay with men for years without the promise of a marriage all the while giving him several children and her best years and devotion all in order to not be alone. We do it in order to prove we are not stereotype, to prove we are lovable, to prove we are worthy. I would be amiss if I didn’t admit that I have done the exact same thing for those exact reasons and without realizing it I held the same fear as Sherry.

When I was younger I went from guy to guy under the guise of thinking I didn’t “need a man” but then as friends paired up and settled down in more serious long-term relationships and I suddenly noticed a crumbling of my self-worth I could only attribute it to no longer feeling special, lovable, and worthy to be loved. The fear had taken root in my spirit and in my psyche and I did not and in many ways still have not been able to completely shake that fear.

I would assume I just need to exercise the opposite of fear but that could be many things.  The most obvious possibly being courage since courage is the opposite of fear. However, there is an old proverb that says courage and fear are brothers. Well it makes sense because one would not need courage unless fear was present. So maybe it’s not courage. The Bible says perfect love drives out all fears but when love or lack thereof is the thing you fear then I am not sure how that would work. I think I have resolved that the opposite of fear is truth and honesty. You have to be honest with yourself and with your God about your fears before you can take courage against them or perfect the love in your heart against them.

I was just discussing the topic of fear with my daughter the other day and I told her, “Most of the time people confuse the object of the fear with what they are truly afraid of. See I used to be deathly afraid of dogs. Small, large, nice or mean I was afraid of dogs. I am not sure when or how this fear developed but as long as I could remember I was afraid of dogs. And growing up we had a pet dog most of the time. But one day I figured out it wasn’t dogs I was afraid of.” 

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes and says, “Really Mom? Well then what were you really afraid of?”

“Well when you were a little girl your Uncle Zuri and a big black monster that he called a dog and he named it Bear. I didn’t want you to grow up with this fear of dogs like I did so I would take you outside the gate to look at him and I would try to point out he could be friendly all the while still shaking on the inside myself. Then you said this one statement and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Amira, you said ‘But mommy I am afraid Bear is going to eat me.’ I laughed hysterically because of course I was not going to let this monster-dog eat you. But I realized it wasn’t the dog I was afraid of. I was afraid of being bitten or hurt or attacked in some way. So I came up with a plan of action if I ever was bitten or attacked by a dog. I would hit, kick, scream, grow, and RUN LIKE HELL but I would defend myself if I were ever to be attacked by a dog. And after that I was never really afraid of dogs again. I no longer anticipated for every dog to bite me or to hurt me. I figured if I was friendly with a dog then it would be friendly with me and I learned to look for signs of an unfriendly dog and those dogs I would steer clear of.”

So I wonder how applicable this tactic could prove again for this new realized fear. I had to get to the truth. And the truth was I wasn’t really afraid of being alone. I actually relish most of my alone time. I am a thinker so my alone time frees me up to just over think any and every thing. But my fear was that I was unworthy, unwanted, incapable of love and companionship. There is a difference. Those fears masked themselves as fear of being alone just as it had in so many others. And the key to overcoming those fears were to recognize them and to speak the truth to them. That every living being was worthy of love or else it would not have been created by LOVE (aka The Creator, aka God), and that of course I was wanted by not only family and friends but I was also desirable to many. Amira just told me the other day, “It bothers me the way I see men look at you, Mom.” I am oblivious most of the time to anyone ever checking me out so I was like, “Huh? Men look at ME!?” She went on and said, “Yes, they look at you like they want to …” Insert interruption here “Like they want to what?” “Like they want to kiss you… What did you think I was going to say?” “Nothing honey.” Nevertheless, yes the truth is that I am a wanted woman. And lastly, I am capable of having love and companionship for the long haul because I have done it already and I do it every day with my daughter and my friends and my family. Acknowledging this truth means that I don’t have to expect that I will end up alone nor do I have to expect that I am seen as this stereotypical, undesirable, worthless woman. Instead I can expect others to see me as the unique bombshell of immeasurable worth. And if they don’t see that when they come to know me then it is their loss. Not mine.

The only true way to face your fears is to be honest about what it is that actually frightens you. Jim Morrison said, “Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.” And facing the fear of being alone means you are free to love and be loved.

  Side-Eye Story # 2: What Did I Come Here For?

So I went to church yesterday. It was a church I had never visited before but it came highly recommended by a few acquaintances and it was close to home. So I decided to check it out. Well the facilities were beautiful. The usher and greeting staff were very warm and welcoming. The music was beautiful and inspiring and then there came the a whole 45 minutes of a waste of my life: the announcements.

All I kept thinking is, “Okay when I walked in you gave me a bulletin with all the announcements of what was going on in the church, which I found informational so why are you dragging along with all of this stuff when people have the information in their hands?” But then I assumed maybe there was some additional information that needed to be mentioned so I calmed my thoughts as I travailed through the lengthy announcements about each event being held at the church. Then all of a sudden I noticed a pattern. For each event there was a fee attached to it. I am reminded of a time a good friend of mine remarked to me after church services on Sunday morning, “Everywhere you go they ask for your money. Shoot, I can’t even come to church without getting a sales pitch.” At the time I thought what she said was hilarious and without much merit because hey the church needs money to keep up the facilities and to sponsor all these fun events and programs. Now forward about 5 years and here I am sitting in a church just needing to hear an inspiring word and I feel like I am being hit with the same “sales pitch.” When did church become more of social club than a place for believers to congregate and a place for those believers to encourage and give aid to the needy?

Then there was the prayer. The pastor gets up to lead a prayer before delivering his sermon and with statements like, “God thank you for blessing us with our new multi-media equipment and we ask that you touch the hearts of your people to give more to help us reach more people” **side note**[ probably so these people can hear the sales pitch and give to the church too] and, let this ministry or that ministry accomplish their program successfully… CUE: blank stare. All I am thinking is, where are the prayers for the poor and broken  hearted, where is the prayer for our troops overseas, where is the prayer for our country, where is the prayer for the well-being of the church members? Instead there was a lengthy prayer about the establishment and the services and that particular church. Eventually I tuned him out and said my own prayer and waited for the preaching to begin. I was still waiting to give this church a shot because it IS a very well-known church around town and it is a descent sized church so they must be doing something right or people wouldn’t be here.

And the preaching begins. It was nothing short of any lesson I could pick up in a children’s Sunday School handbook except with… Can you guess? Yep! You’ve got it! The explanation o f how and why we needed to give to the church. But still, I told myself if I look for something to inspire me and encourage me then I will find it. And I did hear some things about how we are a new creation in Jesus Christ and we aren’t slaves to our bad habits and tendencies. That was good. I could use that bit of information. But it was so entrenched in how God is only going to give to us if we give to the church (not the single mother we know is struggling to raise 4 kids alone, or of our time to a homeless shelter) but only if we give to this church who will then do all of these great things with their building and their technology to raise awareness of Jesus Christ around the world. Ummm sure!

Then, I did something that may be in poor taste. I quietly and discreetly gathered my things and walked out of the door. My cousin said my preacher father would say to me, “Now Cini you know you was raised better than that.” And by all means I definitely was but I just didn’t come to church for sales pitch. I think I would appreciate it more if the church held an actual business meeting with members and potential members outlining all of their wonderful programs and give reasons why people should give to their ministry to get me to give. Hey if it sounds good enough I will gladly give to you. But on a Sunday morning people come to church after a long, often trying week and want to hear something that gives them the unction to be excited about facing this devilish world for another week. Not to mention, it’s no secret the economy is no longer in the toilet it has been flushed down the drain and is just stewing in the sewage lines as we await some magical legislative measure that will put people back to work and spur consumer spending. So if I am among the 10% of Las Vegans who are unemployed for you to continue to beg for money is just like a slap in my face. I would love to upgrade the equipment in my home. Can the church help me out with that. If I have a new computer and HD television set I can watch TBN and actually feel the Holy Spirit through the television set and I can send emails to other Christians all around the world. So  yeah can the church help me out with that? I know, I know. I will pause so you can laugh_ _ _. It was one of my funniest jokes yet! But my point is in times like these I think the church needs to take on a greater role of  identifying the emotional, financial, relational needs of its members and aiding in those areas instead of upgraded equipment and building expansion. Not that there is anything wrong with those things. But again, I impress that there is a time and place for that type of focus; which is certainly not during a Sunday morning service.

Now, I will not divulge the name of this church because I don’t think it is relevant in making my claim. Of course not EVERY church operates this way.  And maybe even this church does not operate this way on a regular basis. However, I think a lot of people would agree with me that sometimes you just go to church to hear about God and be encouraged, yet you sit there wondering, “What did I come here for?”

Can I Be There

There is a place with you I desire to reside

A place you and I can and do at times confide

We lie there both in a space of our own

Staring at the ceiling with eyes piercing the unknown

We then find relaxation

In our conversation

This place we share

Can I be there?

Our spoken exchange draws me into you

And there I am held by you, captivated to

My natural disposition cuddled in yours and yours in mine

There we are with no words to define

This place we share

Can I be there?

The things that come next set us free

We are there indulging our fantasies

Memorizing the feel of this place and all its parts

Twisted tongues, entangled bodies, and melted hearts

While I am there

This place we share

Can I be there?

Through the midnight,

Moonlight

In the moment of dawning

Can I be there, in your thoughts in the morning?

I SEE YEARS IN YOU

I see years in you but I’ve only known you for days

While in the distance I can see a faint silhouette of meant to be

And when you look at me I see the reflection of my life in your eyes

I can smell the desire between us.

The scent of yearning fills the air at our encounters

And eases me into the relaxation of your arms.

An energy so thick I can touch it.

Its tangible chemistry I pick up every time the phone rings.

And I stroke its smoothness with each conversation and stolen glance.

I can hear your heart.

Your sincerity speaks volumes to my tenderness; which I thought was hardened to the core

But I hear your heart calling out to mine. And the sound is so familiar.

A familiarity I can taste.

Its richness reminiscent of Godiva; leaving a bittersweet savor in my mouth when you walk away.

Sweet from the way you make me feel and a bitter longing for the next time I am with you.

I see years in you but I’ve only known you for days.

*This was written for me by an ex boyfriend** I always thought it was cute so I kept it

Desert Diamonds

How could this be?

A man like myself finding a diamond in the desert 

In the mist of palm trees

So deep in the sand

Your eyes could not foresee

Past

The

Vast Vegas lights

Seeking through the crowd of

Loud voices

Over a muffled speaker like sound

Stands out a tall rose with a diamond glow

That could beam into the sky

As high as a Luxor light

A face so familiar you thought you met her in a previous life

Without premeditation

I caught her eyes slowly gazing

As she stood in a rose like pose

Tall enough to get spotted

So I picked her out of the garden

I moved closer and closer like an arrow trying to hit the mark

The room got silent as a lyric from a Carl Thomas song sparked

“It was love at first sight….”

Only a few words were spoken then we held each other

Our souls connected in a way that only fate can define the timing

Hmmmmm….

Is this my Desert Diamond?

She had hair like an African Queen

With captivating electric eyes

Soft baby skin with thick thighs

And an onion booty that made my eyes cry

(Sniffling)

Is this my Desert Diamond?

It felt like a new beginning with no ending

Only time will ((((tell)))) <<(ECHO)

A Bit Different These Days

The world is a bit different these days.

Not that the fluke of a war on terrorism has ended or gas prices have miraculously lowered to a sustainable expenditure.

But I’m different.

I tried fooling myself by saying that having a man or lack thereof wasn’t on my immediate agenda. But, shoot all of my thoughts, energy, and focus were spent on that very thing, and now that’s all changed.

I prioritized friendships that weren’t made significant by all parties involved. I rearranged what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go because I found no one to think as big as I. But that’s all changed.

I obsessed over what I didn’t have and played a game of competition with my peers. I fought the real me trying to break through and thought conformity was the best way to be accepted.

Now, that’s all changed.

I self-absorbed my environment and lived selfishly; focusing only on how things affected me. I stopped thinking of ways to be a blessing to someone else.

Definitely, that has changed.

Everything is changed; the world’s stage and all the actors playing their roles.

 Not because the richest ten percent have broken down their wealth to eliminate poverty and not because HIV/AIDS has stopped its aim at women MY age, MY race, and My sexual orientation.

Yet still the world is quite different these days.

Not because the world is a better place outside home’s door but because I’M in a better place inside my heart’s door. The world and all its dwellers only change one person at a time.

And since now I’m changed…the world is a bit different these days.

Desiring Spring

It is February 2^nd and today the ground hog saw his shadow. I guess that means six more weeks of winter. But I am begging for spring to arrive early. The winter has never been good to me. Lost loves, cold weather, holiday weight, and the early nights make the winter a struggle to endure. I long for spring; a spring in my mind, body, and spirit. I always feel better with the warm sun kissing my skin while the breeze whispers in my ear; my own ménage-trois with the season, fulfilling my fantasy of being the center of love.

Love is in the air then as the order of nature dictates mating season a time to create life but right now in the dead of winter desperation pervades. Creation holds on to the little bit of sustenance it has left until the seed germinates and harvesting can begin; where there is plenty and sufficiency, joy and laughter, smiles and dancing. I want to be happy and laugh; to smile and dance.

Often we fly south for the winter as the birds do. We fly south of comfort and leisure, pleasure and amusement. Maybe that trek southward causes an arrival to life examination. Socrates said the unexamined life was not worth living so the winter is the time to decide if life is worth living; if you are worth living. It is an arrival of the gathering of contemplative thoughts on the requirements for our own life sustainability.

I believe I require (in no particular order) love, affection, validation, companionship, my pen,  my opinion, The Bible, a punching bag,  a sweet merlot, good music, my little black dress, controversy, the air I breathe and a shared meal. I wonder who needs so much or so little for their life to continue living. A living life; as if to suggest the possibility of a dead life, which is the greatest oxymoron in existence. I think that is what happens in the dead of winter. Life dies while the lungs inhale and the heart beats. The soul is in hibernation strengthening itself for the next season; for the spring.

And so my soul hibernates and strengthens awaiting my new season. Yet it is restless like the caterpillar fighting against its cocoon. My soul is agitated desiring to break free. Desiring the spring.

IF

 If I would’ve known the last time I hugged you would be the LAST time I would’ve held you in my arms a little longer.

If I would’ve known that the last time I saw you would be the last time, I would’ve taken an extra moment to memorize your smile.

 If I would’ve known the last time I kissed you would be the last time, I would’ve savored the taste of your kiss.

If I would’ve known the last time you told me you loved me would be the last time,  I would’ve listened with my more than my heart but with my soul.

I saw years in you but we lasted for months

A simple love story of gigantic proportions

Boy meets girl, Girl likes boy an equally without contortion

But sometimes what gets in the way of love is life

And we still have to survive

So love gets pushed aside not realizing that

There’s no life in life without love

Making it harder to make the next move

We lasted for months and each month celebrated a new year in my heart

So, what took 3 months to build ripped 3 years of me apart

A complicated ending

To a simple and chance beginning

From the start of conception, the lone sperm beats out tens of millions of others to fertilize the egg that will eventually become you or me (a human being).  There is a life, a drive, a force that searched and yearned for more. And then that fertilized egg becomes an embryo and that embryo becomes a fetus. When that fetus grows to full term then once again the life, the drive, the force catapults it into existence and a child is born.

As we grow mentally and physically, that same life, that drive, that force remains within the human spirit urging us to reach for more. To look at humanity and observe our dominance over most of  planet Earth one might question the desire to venture into outer space and explore the unknown when our planet provides us with every element necessary to our survival. Or, what would cause a small town farmer’s son to decide to pick up and head for the big city? Or why a girl like me, who has already accomplished some major life goals can’t escape the unsettling feeling that I should be doing something more?

That life, that drive, that force which can’t be explained and which is not the same for any two people is what I believe makes us divine. It’s what causes us to exist beyond simple survival. It’s what gives every life purpose; the purpose to keep humanity in a perpetual state of evolution. As we grow and evolve individually; we also grow and evolve collectively.

Therefore, my life, my drive, my force of nature has presented me with an opportunity to fulfill my purpose in the soul of humanity. And the same goes  for everyone else; whether that drive is pushing you towards motherhood/fatherhood, entrepreneurship, spirituality, teaching, forgiveness, activism, learning, etc.  Know that the collective arises to the occasion of purpose when you do.