A Daily Dose of Freedom

One of the hardest truths to face is--being in a space that no longer serves you . Recently, I made a long, overdue decision to " disconnect " from the social media platform, Facebook. It seemed useless to work diligently to produce in a space that refused to acknowledge my efforts as a noticeable contribution. Showing up as a creative, in a world that pretends not to see you, reaffirms the wounds of " unhealed trauma " that remains undergirded by the scars of rejection. The " lack of engagement " sustained unwelcomed insecurities and prematurely wilted the petals of potential from forming full blooms. It reinforced the concrete walls of abandonment that lined the cracks of subconscious childhood memories.  It forced me into the isolated corners of desperation, trying to remain relevant in times of emotional uncertainty. My distress seemed oblivious to the masses that were drowning in their own pain. Help was like foreign aid, unattainable, beca...

I always wake up at the crack of dawn without an alarm clock but force myself back to sleep. Sometimes facing the morning's reality is way too much to fathom on a few hours of rest. As my eyes slowly wondered down the imaginary lines of my bedroom ceiling, I caught myself in the middle of an unwanted " mind mapping crisis ." Somehow, I managed to mentally categorize all my options by lining my ducks up in a row. Who was I kidding?  I hated those rubber ducks! They all represented something that I had "outgrown!" When I opened the blinds, my tears greeted the rain with contempt, so I closed them and drew the gray curtains shut. The clouds overshadowed my "projected optimism " with the gloomy forecast, so I crawled back into bed to make this nightmare disappear. Screeching alerts of potential inclement weather interrupted my daydreams . This was a " living nightmare !" All I wanted-- was to take a " mental health day " ...

"There's such an overwhelming heaviness accompanied by being in a space that you don't love. "-me Although I've been trying to quietly fade into the gray decor of a mundane routine for months, my unsettled stomach rumbles against the currents of assimilation. My desperate attempts to micmic a " traditional, work day, " have landed my best efforts in the discarded "rejection" pile. My optimistic glitter trail had been hacked by the fruit of abandonment: bitterness, frustration, and sadness. Seems I'd been starving myself by refusing to get up from tables that hadn't appealed to my appetite. I'd been sitting in " unoccupied spaces " that obstructed my airways by enforcing the gas chamber of lethargic disapprovals. I'd been showing up with my gift in hand, but turned away, because it wasn't relevant to orthodox demands. I probably should be plum " certified " crazy by the residue left behind...

"Every leaf that grows will tell you: what you sow will bear fruit..." --Rumi Don’t cultivate a spirit of depression in your children by allowing them to watch you “ suffer in silence. ” Your excuses will become their bondage . Your bad habits will become their thorns. Your pain will become their pit. Live life to the absolute fullest! Explore your heartache. Unravel from the unhealed trauma. Don’t let the pain hold your purpose hostage. Don’t selfishly wallow in the pig pen of pity at your children's expense. Don’t stay chained to darkness. Don’t lie on your belly of sadness. Don’t let the lack claim their abundance. Rise up from the “ ashes of defeat ” by taking “ proactive ” steps: Let your words frame their future. Let your life be a testament of your faith. Let your path ignite their hope. Let your prayers comfort their sorrows. Let your reservoir of living water saturate their barren pla...