Life lessons just keep showing up - good or bad, hard or easy, painful or not and I keep applying them to my life. I’m not sure if this recent lesson is about competition or support. I’m sure you’ve all run into this situation before. The one where you share something with someone and no matter how excited you are about it, how much you’re enjoying it, no matter how much fun you’re having even if it’s an experiment…the person NEVER has anything good to say. Not one speck of a compliment. Honestly? It hurts. Again. You’d think I would have learned my lesson by now but no, I’m still here beating my head against a wall…hoping against hope.

So, what’s a girl to do? I can’t avoid this person. Trust me. I can’t. I suppose I could simply stop sharing information with them but then, I’d be made out to be wrong. Trust and believe. Been there. Done that. Got the phone calls to prove it. I hate having to censor what I say to people. I mean, I’m an honest person and I’m fairly open, especially with my innercircle fam/friends. While I understand and employ tact/diplomacy when dealing with people, having to censor myself that much makes my teeth itch. If I have to go to that length, you obviously shouldn’t be part of my inner circle. But how to get around that? Seriously.

I ask myself if I keep opening myself up to this seeking validation, hoping against hope that THIS time, THIS thing will be the thing that garners a smile, a kind word, a “wow, I’m proud of you/happy for you”…something. I catch myself trying to find find the “thing” that will make the difference - trying harder, juggling more/faster, adding more flash, etc. I temporarily convinced myself that I was going to come across the one thing that would garner instant acknowledgment, recognition, half of a smile…something. Yes, I would love it if this person just once supported me outright, without hestitation, especially in a way that didn’t include them trying to make it about them. I’ve been here before. Same person. And as I think about it now, I have to ask if for some reason this person feels as if we’re in competition. We’re not. Well, let me put it this way – I’m not in competition with them. This whole situation would almost be comical if it wasn’t so painful. (Maybe I’ll laugh tomorrow.)

I know. I need to let it go. And I am. It’s not worth it to me. But old habits die hard. I’m learning. Every once in a while I slip. I guess it’s true what they say – everything ain’t for everybody. I suppose I should take a lesson from my own page, do what I tell other people to do – leave my expectations at the door and just flow with it. In the end, outside of me and the Creator, whose opinion really counts in the end?

Funny how things come full circle and something I shared with a friend around this same time last year now applies to me. I’m really big on supporting people whenever and however I can. Remember this post? Support…That’s My Verb.

That’s me. Sometimes I have to stop myself, slow down, stop sharing because while we all need people who will help replenish what we give out, folks don’t always step up. That’s cool. I try to remember that I do what I do from a place that says helping others is a large part of what I’m called to do. I remember telling this person not everyone we expect or think should support us can or will. Some folk just aren’t made that way – avoid them. Some people don’t know how to support you even though they want to. Some hesitate because they worry about you stepping out too far, they’re holding their breathe, waiting to catch you should you stumble or fall – they just can’t see as far to the end of your dream as you do. And others? Others will ride each and every wave with you – up, down, under, over, across – it doesn’t matter, they’re there for you. Those people? Hold on to them. Those are the people who don’t have to understand your dream, they don’t have to see to the end the way you do – they are supporting you, they believe in you. In an ideal world, you’d be completely surrounded by people like this – no other types would exist. And yet, without the others, you don’t grow as deeply into your purpose, into your dream.

Bottom line is that I have to remember that this is MY dream. Not everyone is strong enough to help me hold up my piece of the sky. Especially when they are too afraid to dream a little dream of their own. Oh well. I keep…pressing onward, moving forward, I keep smiling when I want to, crying when I need to…I keep living…I keep dreaming…I keep building the dream.

Dream BIG!
Live DELICIOUSLY!
Keep Rising!

~ J ~

“What a difference a day makes.”

Ain’t THAT the truth! Yesterday, I was feeling a little way. A bunch of different things had converged in my world on Wednesday, it just kept coming, and I was feeling restless, stuck, tired, and a few other things. Oddly enough, I reached out to some folks via email, telephone & even tried to visit some face-to-face. Not one person was available or responded which has NEVER happened to me before. Went to sleep in the wee hours of Thursday morning with all that pressing against my mind and heart and it woke me up Thursday morning. It followed me all through the house, jumped in the car when I went to the post office, wandered up and down the grocery aisle with me. Even tried to tag along when I met some friends that night for a play.

So, I pondered the situation for about 5 minutes, prayed about it all and then just let it go. Today? Completely different frame of mind. My cup runneth over in every way imaginable. Life.Is.Beautiful. For real. Nope - no job yet (actually considering withdrawing my app for a job that’s pretty much in the bag except for the salary thingy). Nope - not stressing the money thing either. Haven’t sold a lot of books recently. Got a bit of family drama going on. And then there’s…well, I’m not even gonna give it breath or energy. So you see, “LIFE” happened.

But it’s all good. In this moment, life is rich & my cup runneth over. I’ve decided to live from the overflow. That’s big for me. Lifetimes ago, I was “Queen of the Whine”. I lived my life waiting for the other shoe to fall. Seriously. I always anticipated that something was going to happen that would upset the tentative happy balance of my life. It was deeper than me seeing the glass half empty – I couldn’t even see the glass. How sad is that? Not that the glass is half full or half empty but that you have no concept that a glass exists. I lived as if every good thing that came into my life was accidental, that someone was going to realize they’d made a mistake and come to repossess it. Walking through life holding my breath, afraid to get used to the good stuff. CAUSE.I.DIDN’T.THINK.I.DESERVED.IT.

Some days, I think I still have some of that “undeserving” residue stuck to me, in the corners of my mind. It shows itself every now and then. But you know, it’s spring time and so, I’m doing a wee bit of spring cleaning. See if I can shake those cobwebs free for good. You know, I love asking questions – it’s the coach/counselor in me and so, when these thoughts about not deserving, not being worthy slither out into daylight, I stop and ask myself how are these thoughts serving me, what do they give me? There has to be something in order for me to hold on to them so tightly. And in this case, I know that it’s part defense mechanism. If I treat those things as if they were given to me “in error”, how hurt can I be when their rightful owner comes to claim them? I can’t become fully attached to them.

Life is much too short to exist with this kind of thinking. I don’t remember what triggered my changing train of thought from one of holding my breath, waiting to exhale to one where I learn to dwell in possibilities. I suppose living through painful situations and realizing that you’re still standing helps. I’ve decided that, instead of saying “I’m afraid” when faced with an opportunity or challenge, I will say that “I’m excited & anxious to see what unfolds”. I hold no great expectations of any one or any thing other than they show up as they truly are, make room for the authentic me, and we move from there. I am who I am, even as I am becoming that person daily. I have what I have. I dream what I dream. I look how I look. I do what I do. I believe what I believe. I value what I value. I give what I give. What more can one possibly bring to this life?

Yes, right now, in this moment, life is better than good. I think this is ‘the sweet spot”. And you know what? It’s just the tip of “the sweet spot”, the holding section. Going deeper, it gets sweeter. I can’t wait. Yep, my cup runneth over – in every single way possible. And Baby, I am LOVING the fact that I live from the overflow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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It’s the weekend Baby! Whatcha gon’ don? Me? Hanging out with FavCus#1 & #2 Saturday morning. Driving to my Mom’s Saturday afternoon – hang out with her & my nephew D (who’s going to the prom. Lawdhammercy!). Sunday, I’ll come back to town & meet up with some friends for the James River Wine Festival. Had a ball last year & if we even come CLOSE to having that much fun, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand it. My guy, “Big Mike” is gonna be there, with his fiancé. *sigh* Yes, I have to let go of that dream…but if she EVER missteps, I’m on it. LOL And of course, “Cowboy Mike” will be there too. YeeHaw! Now if I can just find that wine in the cat-shaped bottle, it’s on!

Enjoy your weekend my lovelies!

Live DELICIOUSLY!!
~ J ~

… ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸..´ ..´¨¨)) Jackie Young -:¦:-
((¸¸..´ …´ the original WRITE-OR-DIE chick. -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸..´* If you can’t be the poet, be the poem!

Last Friday, I finally replaced my printer and boy did I give the new printer a workout! I’d been stashing poetry in a couple of folders in my inbox and in folders on my harddrive. I’m pulling together pieces for the next collection and for me, having paper copies in front of me makes editing and sorting easier. I went through a pack of paper (500 sheets) and 1/2 cartridge of black ink in 2.5 days. I did manage to clean out one folder in my inbox and make copies of what’s on my hard drive. But, there’s more work to be done, more pieces to be unearthed, more printing to be done. I found this little gem tucked away in a different email folder. *sigh* So when I tell you that I write ALL the time, you’ll believe me going forward, right? (Told ya it was a poetry tsnunami in the area.) Now to turn my sights on the fiction up in here.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
~ J ~

::: NOTE: LRIA = Love’s Reparations in Action. :::

I’ve been wrestling with this post for almost two weeks, trying to find the words to explain this relationship epiphany I had. Friday, while trying to take my mind off the V.A. T.ech tragedy, I was clearing out emails, printing poetry so I can begin edits for my next collection. Oddly enough, I found this epiphany laced into several pieces.

It’s no secret that I’ve had my heart broken. It’s no secret that I’m a major cheerleader for LOVE, not that fake ‘margarine-type’ love but the real deal. It’s no secret that I don’t bad-mouth anyone that I dated or was interested in – I will tell the story of us (or the story of what I believed to be ‘us’ from my perspective in such a way that nobody is made out to be wrong. (Ain’t that grown? Well hang on cause the “grown-ness” continues.)

Late last year as I was licking my wounds so to speak, a thought came to mind about a “relationship” that I was told I imagined. It was a painful situation for a whole lot of reasons – the primary one being that it didn’t have to be. In the midst of all that pain (and anger – let’s keep it real), my initial thoughts were about how much I’d lost. Several months after that, many poems later, much prayer from self & beloved friends who didn’t know the details & didn’t ask, I realized that what I’d GIVEN to that friendship paled in comparison to what I got out of it.

Relationships are great teachers. I’d even go so far as to say that we learn our best lessons inside relationships (and that’s not confined to love relationships). Sometimes the lessons are easy, pretty, happy. Other times they’re hard, painful, dark. Maybe we learn them in the moment, sometimes we learn them long after the lesson (and the relationship) has ended. What I know and believe with my whole heart is that relationships aren’t about the other person – they are a mirror to show you your own stuff up close and personal and give you space to deal with them.

And so, “that” relationship – the one that had me painfully living out the title of my poetry collection? THAT “relationship” brought me so much more than it cost me. I didn’t realize it, not then but I guess that is the very thing that kept me from cursing his name, from going to that vengeful place, from hiding the beauty of me from the next person to come my way.

It brought me the birth of an epiphany (and yeah, there is a poem by that name). The epiphany? EACH RELATIONSHIP YOU ENGAGE IN SHOULD WALK YOU DEEPER INTO WHO YOU REALLY ARE.

Just typing that makes me smile. Think about it. Isn’t that what you want from your relationships, from your AUTHENTIC interactions with other people? To walk away being richer than when you came into them? Whether they last for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Think of the beauty of that. That is a powerful revelation. When you start interacting with people from that perspective - knowing that whatever the outcome you’ll walk away with a better understanding of yourself - you can and will leave your expectations and irrational fears at the door. You can then enjoy the interaction and embrace the lessons it brings.

Now, I got the nudge about that lesson as I was hobbling along the learning curve but being in pain, I pushed it off to the side. The catalyst for bringing it fully to my conscious was a different interaction. This interaction actually models it for me, makes it real, plain speak. Even in my moments of hesitation, in my being “allowed” to drive (for now ) – I see that I’m deeper inside who I really am, who I’m meant to be. See, even in the midst of all that pain, I saw something beautiful – little did I know that part of that beauty was my own reflection. And so, I want to get closer – to go beyond the surface, dig deeper into myself. What better way to do that than inside a friendship that challenges every comfort zone you have?

I look back and I can almost see in my mind’s eye where the hand-off happened. See that spot where the heartache started? That was the handoff. And you know what? It wasn’t about him walking away, not choosing me, not…whatever. It was about the fact that he was not my destination, he was simply a part of a beautiful journey…and he wasn’t meant to go any further. To have stayed there with him in that moment would have stunted my growth. I see that now. I won’t lie – I’ve had my “what-if” moments but I know now that in that moment, in that time and place, as beautiful as it was (and it was indeed a beautiful thang), it couldn’t be anything more than what it was no matter how much I may have wanted it to be.

Whew! I gotta pause right there and do my victory dance because Baby, whether you know it or not, that’s some emotional shackle-breaking real talk right there. If it don’t fit, don’t force it. And so it is also with matters of the heart. T.D. Jakes says “If people can walk away from you – for whatever reason, let them go – your destiny isn’t tied to the one who walks away.” He’s right – your destiny is tied to the one who stays…in the face of, in spite of, because of…for however long they’re mean to stay…to teach you, to mirror your stuff.

There’s a part two to my beautiful epiphany: Just as it is with life, LOVE IS A JOURNEY – NOT A DESTINATION – AND EVEN WHEN ‘THE ONE’ SHOWS UP, THE JOURNEY DOESN’T END. At that point, you’re just getting to the good part. Here’s to beautiful journeys.

Travel well my Lovelies, travel well.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
~ J ~

I.LOVE.JILL.SCOTT. (Scouring the ‘net now to find out when & where she’s touring.) This short piece moves me to tears. it literally gives me the chills. And yet, I find myself replaying it again & again.

If EVER there was a call for us as women to make THIS known….if EVER there was a time for you as men to HEAR us…it’s right now.

Sooooo very much that I could say right now but a sistah is feeling a bit full right now so I’m gonna take it to the journal, the old-fashioned one. See how many poems spin out of this. Enjoy!

Keep rising!

~ J ~

Yesterday as I half-watched the news related to the VA Te.ch incident, I did catch bits and pieces of “regular” tv shows. One being Oprah. Yes, Ladies & Gentleman, Lady O has finally stepped into the I.mus debate with her two-part town hall show, “Now What?” I missed the first part of the show but I believe her intent was to focus on what needed to happen now from the perspective of Black America, the music industry – specifically hip-hop/rap. Her guests included Al Sharpton, Stanley Crouch, Diane Weathers, Robin Smith, Russell Simmons, Common, India.Arie, and a group of African-American females who spoke with Gayle King. My title says “O shows up…fashionably late”. I chose that title because it appears to be so - in all the dialogue about I.mus, the Rutgers team, overhauling the music industry, Oprah showed up a little late for the ball. And her nod to the Rutgers team consisted of about 7 minutes of them saying the same thing that they’d been saying all over the media. Maybe she was blindsided by the fervor of this turn of events and how quickly it advanced. Maybe she didn’t want to tackle it. At any rate, she had Part I of her show yesterday, I think it was called “Now What? - Oprah’s Town Hall”. Here’s what I saw….

What I caught was Dr. Johnetta B. Cole’s statement about African-Americans and our hesitancy to “air our dirty laundry”. Dr. Cole implored us to air it – to hang it on the line, put clothes pins in it and let it flap in the breeze. She went on to say that if you left dirty laundry to sit, it simply became more of what it was – dirty. I like her analogy but would like to add that it’s not as simple as airing our dirty laundry (is anything ever simple?). I believe the first step is the acknowledgment that the laundry is indeed ours. That speaks to accountability which appears to be lacking in a lot of ways in our society – not just the African-American community but our society in general. There has to be acknowledgment that the laundry is indeed dirty. You know how we do – “dirty” to me looks and smells differently than “dirty” to you. As in any discussion, I think it is very easy for us to slip into a discussion of “how” the “laundry” came to be dirty in the first place which takes us away from the real issue – cleaning it up. We have to stop metaphorically lighting incense, striking matches, spraying perfume and/or air freshner trying to mask the odor and presence of the dirty laundry. We know that the debate will continue - who wore it last, who dirtied it, HOW it should be cleaned or laundered. Who cares? JUST CLEAN IT UP!!

What I caught was Diane Weathers saying just as I.mus lost his job, she feels many rappers should lose their jobs, their recording contracts. I’ve heard many things about what people think should be a consequence but I don’t think I’ve ever heard that particular call. I can’t say that I disagree (or that I agree wholeheartedly) but I know there must be consequences to every action. I also know that we are asking a lot. You are asking for a people to police themselves in an age where the NAACP gave Rruh Kelly an image award. You are asking a society to help us censor music when a song like “It’s Hard out Here for a Pimp”. First, I know Rruh hasn’t been convicted but personally? He’s been accused one too many times for me. Nope, didn’t see the video. Didn’t need or want to. Trust me when I tell you that, while I think he is indeed a gifted musician/singer, I fell out with him long before the allegations hit the public. Can’t get with someone who says “you remind me of my jeep”. Now, what about “It’s hard out here for a pimp”? How many people who look like me are voting members - or members at all - of the Academy? So, it wasn’t “us” this time so to speak though “we” were bouncing to it in our rides and in the club. Yes – all we can do is address change within ourselves but we must be realistic about the forces that will come from outside ourselves to challenge that change.

What I did see was Al Sharpton say that this was never about a shockjock, not in and of himself but that someone had to be the catalyst, the spark that reverberated loudly to signal that enough was truly more than enough, that too much was absolutely funky, and that it needed to change – now. For me, it has always been larger than I.mus – he didn’t create himself – someone in corporate America played Dr. Frankenstein and the rest of society simply went along with it. Until it became too much.

What I did see was Oprah’s choice of rappers to continue the discussion today – Russell Simmons and Common. Yes. Russell Simmons. Common. I think I’ll cry “foul” right here on Oprah. Russell Simmons? Common? Perhaps there will be other rappers included and I missed that in the events that unfolded in VA yesterday. I certainly hope so because otherwise, I’d question Oprah’s commitment to really having a dialogue, I’d be more inclined to think she is playing it much too safe.

I know that Oprah is not a fan of rap. I can’t say that I’m a big fan of it either. However, I think that in selecting two rappers who would be considered “safe” by many listeners and other rappers, she is missing an opportunity to advance the dialogue. She is doing a disservice to Russell and Common by asking them to speak for an entire industry of which they are probably the least offensive (though Common did have his moments back in the day). This reminds me of being in 7th grade - my math teacher was an old woman, White, who truly should have returned ages before we reached her class. She had a class of black and white students, some quiet, some loud. Because she couldn’t handle the entire class, she taught only one side of the room.

So it is with Oprah - speaking to one side of the room. I understand not wanting to give a platform to a genre of music that you disapprove of. However, you can’t save souls by preaching to those who are already saved so to speak. Perhaps there will be other mainstream, “hard core” rappers on the show and I missed that part. (What a perfect opportunity for her to have brought Ludacris on her show again, especially after his comments after his appearance on her show with the cast of “Crash”.)

I do find value in the discussion but I challenge Oprah just as she wants to challenge others - what next? Just as I thought about the I.mus situation, that we needed to hold MSNBC and CBS and all the sponsors accountable, I think that Oprah’s guests at today’s table should also include a wider assortment of rappers and some of the suits who control the money…and not just the ones who look like her. Dig a little deeper Oprah. I believe you can do it. How do we move into a deeper, more inclusive dialogue and a place where viable solutions are put on the table. What’s next?

** Here’s a thought that I in the midst of this situation (and sadly, many others): “I’m tired .” I know I’m not alone in thinking and/or saying that. But then I remember who I am, what has been sacrificed so that I can be who I am, do what I do, etc. and I have to ask myself, “Can I afford to be tired?”

The struggle continues. This time it runs deep.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
~ J ~

Someone once told me they thought Oprah was an idiot. In all the amazing conversations we’ve had, we never got back to that. I was curious then and I remain so - especially now. A good topic of discussion, no? That and something about a book….

They say that prayer changes things.

I tend to agree…most days. But on a day like today? I have to wonder if I’m praying wrong. Maybe praying about the wrong things, not praying sincerely enough, or strongly enough, or maybe I’m too busy praying MY wants instead of HIS will.

I woke up early this morning – my hips singing the fibromyalgia song that strikes up whenever and wherever it wants. I got up long enough to get some water, pop some aspirin and plug the heating pad in. I turned on the TV (probably my biggest mistake) and found myself near tears as I watched the news unfold around the shootings at V.i.r.g.i.n.i.a. Te.ch in Blacks.burg, VA. Madness creeps. Across the grounds of a college campus.

And I lay here saying to myself that prayer changes things. I know it does. I believe it. And yet…on a day like today, I have to wonder. I try not to “go there” with God but, my not saying it doesn’t stop me from thinking it and you know God does know your thoughts…and your heart. Besides, God already knows that right now, I’m struggling to understand how it seems that the Devil is always busy…and sometimes…God appears to be stuck in chill mode. And I know not to let myself linger too long on that thought. Not about chill mode but about whether my prayers are in vain, or why things like this happen. I know that not all things, not all people, not all situations are meant to be understood.

And so, I was laying here, afraid to call anyone – I have friends and former coworkers whose kids attend Tech - afraid to answer the phone. My sister called from New York – she couldn’t remember where Tech was, which part of Virginia. I’ve talked to one other person and right now, that’s enough. Thirty-one people dead, another 20+ injured. Madness creeps. Across the ground of a college campus. Another sign that our “safety zones” are few and far between.

Jesus.Take.The.Wheel.

And so, I like the rest of the nation, wait to hear more details. Wait for someone to piece together this macabre puzzle. We don’t say it but we’re waiting for someone to say the one thing, give us the one piece of information, that will make this situation make sense for and to us.

I have no words. My heart goes out to all those on campus, their families, their friends. I think of the person who committed this crime – for the pain they must have been in, the madness that must have planted itself in their mind.

I do the only thing that I can.

I pray.

We interrupt the normal random ramblings and loose thoughts of this blog to shamelessly plug the latest work from my friend (literary AND literally), Linda Dominique Grosvenor - THE PLURAL THING (aka Princess Dominique). I’m so excited about this book (ok, ALL her books) and can’t wait to crack the spine on this one. Hop over to her website to read an excerpt.

AVOID COUNTERFEITS. LOVE BETTER. MARRY WELL.

Are you having the same recycled relationships year after year and expecting different results? Are you expecting your mate to come up and be more but can’t see your flaws or are unwilling to change yourself? Have you all but given up on ever finding a compatible mate? Are you at the point that you are finally tired of doing it your way and are ready to cast your relationship cares on Him once and for all?

The Plural Thing: Spiritually Preparing for Your Soul Mate is Changing Lives!

The Plural Thing: Spiritually Preparing for Your Soul Mate by Linda Dominique Grosvenor is unadulterated, hard-hitting, tough-loving, no-nonsense truth. With Biblical principles, keen insight, self-disclosure and candidness Linda Dominique Grosvenor provides guidance to those struggling with sexual soul ties, an adulterous relationship, low self-esteem and have resigned themselves to settling for second-best or finally want the freedom to receive God’s blessings for their lives.

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“Real love-God-give love-isn’t always found in expected places. Neither are good reads. The Plural Thing by Linda Dominique Grosvenor is one of those surprises. Single or married, all women will find encouragement and healing here.” –Marilynn Griffith, author of Pink, Made of Honor and If the Shoe Fits

This book is a labor of love and the pre-ordering frenzy began in January when the author hinted at a revised edition. Because relationships are a sensitive subject, guidance like this is sorely needed. It’s guaranteed to SELL OUT. Don’t wait to borrow your best friend’s copy. Don’t end up on the waiting list for a copy either. Get your own copy of The Plural Thing: Spiritually Preparing for Your Soul Mate today at Amazon.com.

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Single, Married or Divorced Log on to http://www.thepluralthing/
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