Part I: “Perfect” (or) Shitty Yoga

For a 6:00 yoga class it usually goes something like this:

  • 5:00pm–talk myself into going and convince myself that I will be happy I went after its over
  • 5:13pm–put on capris and tank top
  • 5:14pm–do downward facing dog and watch as capris roll half-way down my legs
  • 5:15pm–kick off capris and search closet for “yoga pants”
  • 5:15:30pm–make mental note of how no one in yoga classes actually wears yoga pants, in fact, yoga pants have more of a home at Target on a Saturday afternoon than they do in a yoga studio.
  • 5:16pm–Pull on exercise leggings and spin to examine all angles
  • 5:17pm–bend over rear to mirror to see if pants have “LuLu effect” they always do.
  • 5:18pm–pull on Gap Fit capris which always fit well but are typically worn for running and decide it doesn’t matter.
  • 5:18:30pm–decide that combination of fitted capris and tank top is too tight and looks for perfect light yet loose (but not too lose) shirt.
  • 5:19pm–tie up not-my-hair in a ponytail
  • 5:21pm–tie up not-my-hair in a bun
  • 5:23pm–change from not-my-hair option #1 to not-my-hair option #2 and pin it back off my face
  • 5:24-5:32pm: tear apart my entire room looking for “yoga headband” which has elastic and stays in place while absorbing sweat
  • 5:40: after taking 17 unsuitable-for-instagram photos I notice how late it has gotten and I grab my keys and run out the door for class.

imagesI arrive. The room is heated and no matter what the actual temperature is, it is perpetually five degrees too warm and I begin to sweat immediately. I search around the room for a familiar face. There never are any. Svelte bodies stand erect upside down balancing to “warm up”.  I lay down in corpse pose and pull awkwardly at my clothes. Pants up, top down. I wiggle back to re-center myself on my yoga mat and try to bring myself into the room and the moment.

  • 6:00pm–the instructor begins class. Asks us to remember to breathe. Sweat decorates my top lip and I wish silently for a clock anywhere in the studio. I chuckle to myself because if there were a clock it would be fogged over. It’s so fucking hot in this room.
  • 6:27pm–after the 107th downward facing dog and 1,203th chaturanga my shoulders ache and I melt into child’s pose. My sweaty forehead sinks into my mat and I breathe my GODHELPME Ujjayi breath. It has surely been an hour, I think.
  • 6:31pm–my shirt which began as loose and flowy is now soaked with sweat and sticking to my skin. I self-consciously tug at it in between spreading my branches in tree pose and hands to heart.
  • 6:43pm–as we star pose to the side and the sweat drips as though I were wringing myself out I hear it hit my mat and it echoes as though Niagara falls were in the studio. I wonder if the man behind me can hear it too.
  • 6:50pm–spine twist, my body can barely bend this way and I look around the room to see others facing the back wall breathing effortlessly.  I make a mental note to research “yoga for fat people” when I go home.
  • 7:00pm–I taste the sweet relief of fresh cool air on my skin and say goodbye as I wonder if I can text someone to meet me for a late burger and a drink.

Yoga practice, not yoga perfect.

To conclude:
I made a promise to myself after my last class that I would not repeat this song and dance. Despite my account above, I really do love the practice of yoga. But I wanted people to know how incredibly frustrating it can be to get OUT of your head and be where you are. I get hung up on what I look like. What I sound like. What others think of me and think of my practice. But I just do not want to live that tightly anymore. I am in a place where I really am ready to shed the weight and restriction of other people’s opinions (and my own self-judgment). Happy.  That’s all. It doesn’t come from the perfect outfit or the nailing the perfect pose. Happy comes when you can enjoy exactly where you are, and what you look like and know that in those moments how blessed you are to be in them.   Moving forward, that is what I’d like my practice to be about: gratitude. Every inhale grace and every exhale thanks.  Perfection, or this ideal that I have been striving for…it was stifling me. I want to keep it out of my yoga classes and out of my everywhere else too.

When you add it all up

Every morning I listen to music. Well, before that, I wake up and I immediately begin saying my “Thank You”s to God. At this point it is as organic as wiping my eyes or sitting up in bed. I do that until it feels right to do something else. Once I am ready to begin my morning, I do so with music. I like to move. I like to dance. And sing. I dance while I brush my teeth, I dance while I put on make-up, I sing in the shower and while I curl my hair. Every morning, there is a performance.

I am perpetually running behind in the mornings because of my performances. It is rarely because of outfit changes, but more like, I just needed to finish belting out this song before I could possibly even dream of leaving the house.

When I hear music I see colors. I always have, and I feel emotions like I am sitting in a room filled with the lyrics. When I was in high school, my mom told me I could repaint our downstairs basement. I wanted to paint it gold and write song lyrics on the walls with different walls highlighting different songs. It felt like what goes on in my head would finally be on the outside.

When I am connected to people I see colors. Sometimes with strangers too, but only if they are willing to be seen. I have chalked up the colors to be auras and while I do not always know what to “do” with the information, I have always had access to it. I will never forget meeting a client for the first time and immediately getting a sense for who they were based on what I got from them. One “scary” client felt black at first, which made me nervous but as soon as the door was closed she turned purple, and she cried for the next hour.  I learned then that sometimes people hold their breath, only they do it for their whole lives.

People listen to me. It is a curious thing that adds responsibility. I am young, and still figuring things out but two things I can say about myself that I really really like are that I am okay with making mistakes, and publicly, and I am wise enough to know that my gift has little to do with me. I found this quote last night in O magazine from Maya Angelou, she said:

I think it’s amazing what I have done. And I know it’s not my doing so I don’t have to be modest about it. Modesty is a learned affectation. It’s no good.

It made me smile. It made me want to shine brighter.

I had a friend tell me that I should start a newsletter. Send it out once a week with a thought, a reflection, something like that for people to be able to hear me. I digress, it is not about hearing me, but if I can write something that allows people to sit still and hear themselves, then I am game. I did not immediately dismiss her idea (as I would have maybe even as soon as a year ago) I knew from the discomfort growing in my belly that it was something I had to do.

Another friend sent me a link to Tracee Ellis Ross’ website. I clicked the link and ended up watching a video in which Tracee says she has learned the following three things:

  1. Your shit is your gift;
  2. The list is not the thing;
  3. Move freely.

I read it and smiled. I believe in those things. My shit…my outspoken-ness, my bigger than life personality, my ability to listen very deeply, my intuition, my curiosity, my optimism…and even the physical, my body. These things allow me to be who I am. They are the things that have become so…me. I was fretting with a dress yesterday because I had on tights and it made me nervous not to be able to tell whether my dress was down or not. I saw a classmate and she said, “Did you have a special meeting or something?” No, I told her. Just another day. “Ugh,” she continued, “Jessica you inspire me. One day I am going to do my hair and have an outfit…you always look so polished.” The moment was not lost on me. Here I was feeling like a hot mess and in the exact same moment someone saw me as polished. It goes to show that people are never as critical of you as you are of yourself. So, I told myself, you look fine, go enjoy yourself.

The list…I am a listmaker. It is so bad that I even got my college roommate to become a list maker with me. I infected her with my listing. Tracee said, “Somethings on the list are just not meant to get checked off.” Well. My mind went to running. I write about it often and I am so pulled by it but not in a big enough way to actually do it. I asked myself, “Would you be okay if you never ever became ‘a runner’?” I would be. I am sure there are other things on the list. For example, I thought in college I would be an AKA because that’s what the women in my family are and that’s what my good friends were too…then after college I worked with Deltas and I thought oooh well maybe THIS…and neither have worked out. Well, the pursuit was not the same, but either way, neither worked out. And funnily enough, I got an invitation for Delta while I was in South America in January. I remember saying to myself, maybe it’s not meant to happen. You literally could not be further away from it than the end of the earth and  yet…here we are.  And I refused, vehmently refused, to regret being where I was in favor of being somewhere else. No. I was so happy to be where I was in that moment, and I owned and cherished that. Maybe it was the “thing” maybe it was the timing. I don’t know and don’t care. The list, the things to do…they’re second ALWAYS to the experience. So the list…the list I made for myself…it’s negotiable.

Lastly, moving. We’re back to the beginning. How often do we move though? I happen to be one of those people who listens to the ears beneath my neck. I pay attention to what my body is telling me, and even if I cannot make any sense of it, I take note of it. This has been work. My current desire is to be able to speak to it with confidence. Years of learning that the head is smarter than the heart, and I’ve been actively trying to derail this myth within myself. And I want to be confident when I speak from a place of intuitive somatic knowing. I told my advisor that I wanted to make a movie about my dissertation and the process. She kinda just looked at me. But I see the end, right now. I get these ideas…these wildly creative ideas that appeal to the senses and make you emote and nothing about a dissertation matches those things. But it will. Watch. I mean I am an academic…but I am also an artist, a writer, a creative being and in this body of work that I am sure to produce, birth, and it has to resemble me. Simple as that.

So I guess the sum of it all is that. Right now, the me that I am today is pretty damn cool. The sheer amount of self-work I have put into my twenties is phenomenal and the shedding I have done of societal story telling…I asked myself why we are kept so dull? The only resolve I came to was that people didn’t know how to shine without persecution (from the masses, and from the ego.) You don’t deserve it, who do you think you are…those shine-stealing story tellers. I can recognize them for what they are now and send them grace but not devote an ounce of energy into considering their validity.

Who we are, who I am…is a work in progress. A divine being who needs sunshine, laughter, dance, song, and love. Kelly Canter said, “Don’t be afraid to fall in love, It’s the only thing that matters in life. Fall in love with as many things as possible.” I couldn’t agree more. I have fallen for words. For art. For helping people find their way to happy. And maybe one day, if I’m lucky, for a partner and for my children. It’s just as simple as that, of course in love there is great openness…great vulnerability and great risk. That’s okay though, see #1.

A reconsideration of sorts

I had just gotten done working on a part of my research when I got on the elevator heading down to the car. Feeling the box adjust just slightly as I stepped in my heart sank ever so softly into my chest and I asked, “how long have you been telling yourself that something is wrong with your body?”

I didn’t bother to answer. A few weeks ago I decided I was going to start adding physical aspects to my morning gratitude practice. Thanking God for my body in various ways. I thought, more than anything, right now, I am so very grateful for being my mothers daughter.” And what does that mean? It means never being satisfied with the superficial, it means being caring and candid, it means appreciating laughter, and it means being charismatic. Neither of my parents are shy “keep to yourself” types, and so I guess its only natural I have this strong pull to connect with others.

I saw a classmate of mine who told me he reads my facebook posts, and my blog when I post links to it. “You haven’t posted in a while,” he said. I forget. Not to post, but that even this place is a testament to connection.

No one has ever been as hard on me as I have been on myself. I have held myself to ridiculous standards and held dreams just out of reach like a dangling carrot to a mare. In coming to terms with my own…well, with myself, I have grown to understand how much I’ve limited myself. And why? Because I didn’t look a certain way? Weigh a certain weight or dress a in a particular style? Its just a lie. Its an ugly lie and its so clearly not true as evidenced by my amazing life.

I have loved. I have jumped off mountains and treetops. I have drank too much. Danced for too long. Laughed too loudly. Given too much. I have lived. And not only that I have lived a damn good life. And I am so grateful for my story (so far). I am ready for whatever adventure awaits me, and I plan to greet it with grace and curiosity.

In my journal I wrote, as I listened to Joel Osteen:


And I meant those words. I am worthy of love. Of belonging. Of connecting, that is my birthright as a divine being. I feel I’ve come to the point in my life where I can recognize how many miracles I’ve been privy to experience and I realize just how great its been. I can look at the darkest corners of my being and say with love, “it happened.” I recognize my survival, my strength, my resilience. And any flaw I might have thought I had just isn’t a good enough excuse given all I’ve overcome. No. I am fearfully and wonderfully (that is, full of wonder) made. I am walking ordered steps.

It happened, yes, but God…

Secret Garden

I’ve become acutely aware that the 10 year anniversary of my accident is approaching. My mom hates that I remember it, but I do. Every single day. And as February 17th creeps closer, so does this sense of panic.

I specifically recall tell God I had to be okay because I had work to do here, still. Right now I impatiently wait for that feeling of any sort of accomplishment, of validation that I remained here and okay for a reason. I keep struggling with this idea of be patient. I wish I had the ability to trust more. To feel certainty in surrendering control to a power more knowledgeable than myself. Its always the same issue.

Usually I’m waiting on money. Right now, financially I am set. And then when I think money is the answer…I’m faced with needing my car to be shipped and having to wait and rely on someone other than myself to get it done. I wish I could explain what it does to me to have to need other people. It enrages me. I feel useless, helpless, powerless, defeated, weak, and most of all vulnerable.

As if it weren’t enough, last week I started fighting against this “Ick” my body felt. And this morning, no car and feverish I ask the universe: in how many ways do you need me to feel like shit?

And I get it. My word for the year is surrender. Yet, I never meant surrendering control or surrendering to someone else’s timing. God doesn’t seem to care about my interpretation of the word, God just cares that I do it. Why is it so hard? 


I think about what it means to me that I am not vulnerable. It means that I am capable, strong, intelligent, and put together. There is an element of disheveled that I associate with vulnerable. Not being put together is among my tip 5 pet peeves. I guess my big work is to understand these things are not opposites and that vulnerable does not mean weak, or incapable, or powerless.

The things that I keep in the garden…that’s the stuff, I suppose, that is at the crux of this. I’ve built walls around my heart because I know where I’ve been after it broke and I never want to go back there. But what I never realized was that in trying to stay so strong, I’ve made anything that threatens vulnerability a weapon against me. Whereas, if I were open to it then it would not be so threatening.

But the truth is, I don’t want my heart broken again. It nearly killed me the first time. And I suppose it wasn’t just the devastatingly swift blow of rejecting, but also unhappiness, and the grief of my own expectations. I was a widow of many husbands. But one thing is certain–I can’t keep up this fight. Did it take me 10 years after begging to live to begin doing so?

Listening the first time

I am horrible at that. Full disclosure, I have a hard-head and have to be told things more than once before I listen.  To my credit, as I have gotten older the number of times I have to be told has lessened to an inordinate amount to just a handful, but I am aiming to listen the first time.  That requires a level of trust that I consciously work towards, daily.

I was reading this book recommended to me by Nama called Astrology for the Soul by Jan Spiller which explores the North Nodes.  My North Node is in Gemini, and among the many very insightful things I read the one that made me laugh out loud the loudest was this:

One of the best ways Gemini North Node people can experience the integration they’re seeking is through the process of writing–a journal, books, articles, etc.–on a regular basis…Writing calms their internal restlessness, releasing the tension and anxiety in a form that brings them peace.

These folks are extremely talented writers, though they may not recognize this until much later when they look back over what they have written.  They have an ability to clarify thoughts on paper in a simple way that actually communicates far beyond the words.

Fitting, right?  I mean, honestly tell me something I didn’t know. Though it was funny to see it written on paper.  Validation is a sneaky little thing.  The next thing was this:

In this incarnation, Gemini North Node people are here to teach.  They are here to bring Truths, principles, and practical application of ethics into society…If they let go of their ideas of Truth and really listen, they will automatically tune in to the other person’s belief systen and spontaneously say–through a sincere question or a new piece of information -those words that will shift the perspective for both of them to a fresh recognition of Truth…As teachers, these folks have to divorce themselves from prejudicial viewpoints and allow the other person to think freely, without trying to guide the other to a conclusion that’s identical with their own…When they act as true teachers, these folks behave in a way that creates a win/win situation for everyone.

This was something I closed the book on.  Not literally, but it was one of those “okay okay, I’m listening,” moments.  When I was in high school my step-dad first told me, “You’re going to go to college, major in psychology and be a college professor.” To which I scoffed, at the time I wanted to be the editor of a fashion magazine–I can say that writing has been a constant for me since I was about 8 years old.  Then, when I (of course) went to college and majored in psychology I hated that he was even a little bit right. Hard head.

After college, I sought opportunities to develop my creative impulses with photography and event planning, but the attention to detail worked against my natural ability to see the big picture and I hated it.  After working at Verizon and having people yell at me all day, I figured I should be getting paid for being a damn therapist. So off I went, to be a therapist.  Got my masters and decided, well hell why stop there?  Once I got to my doctoral program, I do not remember at which event it was but Dr. Nash told me that I should really consider the full-time faculty route–to which I scoffed. I.Am.A.Practitioner. I am not an academic.  I keep saying this, but at this point I’m talking to no one because clearly…I’m in a doctoral program, I am (at least partially) an academic.

Then, of course, there is the obvious fact that I am teaching right now.  Two classes.  Then today, the sign of all signs, after just reading this book and that passage about teaching, and just having a conversation about it all with Mass Elle, my Assistant Dean comes down to my office to tell me that I was approved to teach with Dr. Nash in a Global Study course (Multicultural Counseling) in Jamaica next summer.  Need I say more? Hard head.

So at this point, I feel that I have to stop saying what I’m not going to do, because clearly God has had plans for me since the beginning.  Psalm 139.

I will say this, its amazing to me how things fall into place.  I know by now I should not be surprised or even the least bit dazzled but it is still so amazing. As I have further affirmation that “shutting up” is not in my plans, I will continue to be as open, as expressive, as gracious as ever.  And of course, never shy about the knowing and sharing from whom all blessings flow.  (According to the book, in my past life I was one of those religious gurus on a mountaintop–lol, I doubt anyone is surprised by that either)

Heart and soles

When I started my doctoral program, I wanted to (in the end) be the director of counseling services at a college or university and maybe teach a class in the counseling program. Once I got here, that expanded to me being open to work anywhere within student development and wellness. Now that I teach in the counseling department, the work is a bit intoxicating and my mind wanders through the halls on a faculty high. It just keeps evolving!

I talk with Mo most often about these sorts of things and while she is firm in her higher education lane, labeled very much an academic administrator (and possible faculty) I’m a bit less cemented. My mind makes far too many connections between fields and areas of interest to stay in the higher ed world–not that I don’t love it. I do, but I love it so much that I want to tell the world about it!

I often wonder how to leave a place like USD, or really Soles. Its a literal think tank for innovation in leadership. Not just educational leadership, not just organizational leadership, but all leadership. How do you walk away from that environment? I suppose I’ll always carry it with me. That paired with an already idealistic and imaginative spirit will likely stay with me anywhere that I go, but not every place will nurture it, protect it, and also constructively challenge it.

More than I think of what I want to do, I think of where I want to do it. I have already begun crafting the type of environment I see myself in and praying for it years before it is needed. We both have to be ripe at the same time. I will know it when it comes.

One month into year 2 and I have a topic for my dissertation and am planning pilot study research. I am collecting works and thoughts and stockpiling them for year three and four. I am, most importantly, living. Taking advantage of many opportunities to work with different kids of people because you just never know…

Last week I made mention of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle and its explanation that if you know the velocity then you cannot also know the position of a thing. Meaning you can’t know both where something is (position) and how something is moving (velocity) at the same time with any accuracy. Once you start to see clearly one thing, you lose sight of the other. Sometimes I know where I am, othertimes I just know I’m moving towards greatness (or destruction–though not recently). Right now that uncertainty is okay. And according to physics it’ll always have to be.

I think, what an honor to be where I am in such good company. To be able to do what I am passionate about, and encouraged to grow. To be challenged yet supported in my endeavors. And even though in the end my dissertation is my work, everyones fingerprints will cover the trophy.

I suppose that this morning I am just feeling grateful. Happy about everything that lead me to this point. The things fell apart, the things that fell together, and the things that have remained since the beginning. They do not make me, but they shape me and if I had to call it one thing I would call it grace.

Make your Life your Art

I was walking home having a conversation with myself, something that is not completely uncommon.  I was mulling over a conversation my advisor and I had about research and my desire to do more of it this year.  She suggested that I enroll in a class this fall centered around conducting research and preparing for an international leadership conference. Immediately I thought, “I can’t afford to take another class” because my scholarship pays for two per semester. I literally shook my head and said “NO! Jess you have to stop making money a barrier as to why you can’t do what you want to do.” My next thought was pretty brillz

What you give power, has power

Simple, yet  And why did it take until today for me to really really get that?  To understand that debt has power because I have given it power.  That inactivity has power because I give it power.  Or that my academic preparedness has power because I give it power.  It really clicked today that things have power because I willingly assign it.  I decided that I would add the class and I felt good about the decision, the money? It will come. I have truly grown tired of worrying about money.

Before I spoke with my advisor, I sat outside of the conference room waiting for her to prepare for a meeting. As I waited, I started reading a book called The Nature of Leadership.  Reading a story by a CEO about learning to listening another thought occured to me:

People don’t want to be lead.  People want to be understood.  Understand them, and they will come with you.

It was unedited and that thought is just what arose as I digested the CEO’s revelations about the necessity of listening to people.  Its just what I heard the other night…old familiar words but powerful none the less, “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

  • The authors spoke of art and life…how throughout school the two were separate. There was time for learning, tools for success and then there was the extracurricular: art.  It was supplementary, not rudimentary.  Until he came across an artist who wove his passion for art in his home, his career, his volunteerism, his relationships.  It was an epiphany for him; life and art do not have to be separate.
  • I was watching a CBS special about this author who wrote a book about decision making entitled, “Wait”.  He spoke of waiting until the last possible minute to make a decision and it kind of speaks to Wheatley’s idea of clarity arising from chaos.  He used sports as an example, “sitting in the pocket” for football or tennis players waiting for the ball to come to you…its patience. Its waiting until the muddy water settles and things become clear, answers come organically and readily and our actions are not forced and we act with certainty. It is not always procrastination…it is acting from our Self who has not left room for doubt.

Cycling back to the second thought…I contemplated its truth. Is this true of my experience?  Well…isn’t that the entire premise around counseling? I reflect, I mirror, I show my clients that “I get them” and then together we head to a place that we have both agreed on. I am seen as the therapist, the facilitator but in fact I am not leading and clients are not following.

So if I can understand I can have a movement.  This is not to say that I cannot lead or I should not lead…but I believe it to be key in the execution of my leadership.  I have to understand people.  In the universe’s beautiful way…this happens to connect back to the book because it was partially authored by Steven Covey who listed “Seek first to understand, then to be understood,” as one of the 7 habits of highly effective people.  Because when I can show people that I get them. I hear them. I see them. I know what is important to them. It is then that share vision, purpose and they will likely come. Why? Because they believe that because I get THEM I get IT.  At least that is my belief, and honestly my experience.

This came from reframing the way I understood my role…as a friend, as a daughter, as a student, teacher, counselor, etc.  This came from seeing the things that I did differently and as a result, they were different.  The process was different. It stopped being how can I make people better or how can I help people, to how can I understand them and what is there to learn?  That small shift makes such a big difference.  THAT is what allows me to, in those moments, sit in the pocket…to wait for the ball…to be patient because the clarity comes. People just need time.

See how great conversations with yourself can be?

I don’t like this song…being okay with not being okay

Tuesdays are long days.  They are the only day, in fact, that I have work and class on the same day.  Even for people in my cohort this is a demanding day, but for me what with the social demands of both environments by the time I get home I am completely drained.  In my Tuesday night class, since the first meeting there has been a running metaphor for the purpose of the class; dancing the dance (active participation) and being in the balcony (passive observing).  It’s one of those classes with about 90 people and for the first hour it is completely directionless.  Our professor asks us how we want to start and someone (or no one) takes the lead and sets the pace for the class discussion.

I suppose it is important to note that I am not normally one to be overly active nor overly passive, but definitely more of an observer by nature.  I enjoy seeing where discussions can go without my interjection, and try to only contribute when I see a stalemate or a collision.  I have not yet found myself contributing to my class discussion and last night I asked myself why.  Certainly, internally I was forming definitive opinions about the articles being discussed and the theories being tossed around.  Sometimes I disagreed and sometimes I agreed whole-heartedly but in neither situation could I find myself moved enough to leave the balcony and join the dance, why?  The only answer I could come up with was “I don’t like this song.”  What I mean(t) by that is, while I was enjoying the assertions and rebuttals of my classmates, it felt like running in circles.  Talking just to avoid the silence.

My professor, on the first night, drew a graph and it looked pretty much like a standard bell curve.  She explained that on the up slope (left side) that is anxiety that we have during times of adaptive problems (read: problems which arise because the nature of the world has changed, technical solutions are no longer valid because solutions are dependent on the entire group to learn its way to new solutions.) Often times, as a means of reducing anxiety a group will elect a leader, either formally or informally (informally being granted via expectation and trust rather than actual concrete authority) and normally the leader will put technical (temporary) solutions in place which ease the discomfort of the group.  It is important to remember that technical solutions do not address the problem, they serve to reduce anxiety; but the truth of the matter is, we need anxiety.  We need to step into the unknown and be uncomfortable sometimes because it is during those times that we grow.  That is a very long explanation to the simple question of why I have yet to speak in class.  I feel so many of my classmates are uncomfortable in the silence that their technical solution is to begin dialogue.  The sole function, thus far, of our conversation has seemingly been to prove that we have done the readings, and to assert some sort of competence to our academic authorities.

I don’t like this song, but I do like this dance.  I enjoy hearing other people’s opinions, and I enjoy discussing the class later with friends.  I know that I will get my chance to contribute, but I want to try to move before being an observer gets too comfortable.  The will of the way vs. the will of me.  Where I may feel comfortable observing all semester, there are going to be times that call for me to add to the discussion.  And I will have to submit to the greater will despite my own agenda.  Isn’t that life?  Understanding that there are always things that we are going to prefer, but knowing that something greater than yourself is waiting for you to act.  Waiting for you to contribute.  Waiting for you to give what only you are capable of giving.

Lately, life has felt like the ocean, rocking back and forth; that delicate balance ebb and flow.

Newtons laws of Physics…and life…and love

I bring to your attention, Newton’s Laws of motion (simplified):
1. A particle will stay at rest or continue at a constant velocity unless acted upon by an external unbalanced net force…that is to say without something, whether it be big or small, acting upon a particle it will continue its course of action. The same is true for people. People only do to you what you allow them to do, and without an action (big or small) to interrupt their constant behavior it will continue. People will do something continuously until enacted on by some force to do otherwise… In love, you cannot contine the same behavior in a relationship, staying on the same course of action, and expect your partner to respond any differently than they have been responding. If NOTHING has changed, NOTHING will change?! Seems simple Continue reading

in dreams…

tyresha-38-copyThis is a pic I took from one of my recent shoots…it kinda captured what my emotion right now in that I’m thinking, whats next. Eyes to the sky wondering what it is that I’m supposed to be learning from the places I’m in right now and how these things are going to make me a better me tomorrow.  Far too often I’ve found myself in situations that leave me wondering, “How did I get here?”  And I know, after the fact of course, that I got there by doing what I wanted to do rather than what I was supposed to be doing…..I’m still doing it too. If I haven’t learned doesn’t that make me a little insane?  If you always do what you always did, then you’ll always get what you always got. These are like the truest words ever uttered-and so why don’t I listen?  I guess everyone has to learn in their own time.  Its time to practice what I preach though and be the change. THIS time, I’m looking  2 The Sky first.

In keeping with my theme my T.I. cut of the week has GOT to be his latest T.I. feat Justin Timberlake “Dead & Gone” I mean it really gets no better than this…Because when your friends, family, or whoever you thought was by your side start to disappear you gotta “turn your head to the north” *Shout out to Jesus LOL*  No but for real-potent lyrics of interest:

No more stress,
Now I’m straight,
Now I get it now I take
Time to think,
Before I make mistakes
Just for my familys sake
That part of me left yesterday
The heart of me is strong today
No regrets I’m blessed to say
The old me dead and gone away.

~Clifford T.I.(P) Harris