The decisions we make have the ability to change our lives, forever.
One Choice.
After looking back on his, my father always says, as he reflects..."I made some decisions, good and bad" some of which I" am paying a price for today," he recalls.
Much of the reason it is so important to take in perspective the effects each decision will have, before making it. An important lesson one of my college professors shared with me...that I rightfully practiced, making out a list of the benefits as well as the disadvantages yopur decision will have on your life. And though there is not always a major amount of time to do this, the thoughts you give will help assist your choice.
from my perspective, it has made all the difference, making me all the more pleased, and equipt for the life's loop holes.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The Art of Giving
"Shalom" were her last words, ending our conversation that lasted four whole hours.
"It means peace in Jewish," she shared.
"Really?"
I wondered if it's the same peace that "passeth all understanding" that has the ability to rises above all hurt, to heal, strengthen and as we spoke so freely about, to take one to higher heights in God.
I've always noticed, that God has a way of supplying all of our needs, even at times when we are not always consciousness of it.
Giving us wisdom that helps us through.
My cousin Renee has been one of those amazing assets in my life.
"See God is a mirror, in which we see and gain an image on how to treat others," she shared. "Angel simple means messenger," which constitutes to the very, "way of God getting something to us."
"Messengers come to you by way of dreams...she said "not always limited to some spiritual manifestation of God."
He has send his angels and my cousin has been one of them. I learn so much from our conversations, enough to fill me, to fill others.
In the name of Peace, I am blessed to not only have here as a cousin, but to be in a place where I can truly receive all that God places inside her to give.
"It means peace in Jewish," she shared.
"Really?"
I wondered if it's the same peace that "passeth all understanding" that has the ability to rises above all hurt, to heal, strengthen and as we spoke so freely about, to take one to higher heights in God.
I've always noticed, that God has a way of supplying all of our needs, even at times when we are not always consciousness of it.
Giving us wisdom that helps us through.
My cousin Renee has been one of those amazing assets in my life.
"See God is a mirror, in which we see and gain an image on how to treat others," she shared. "Angel simple means messenger," which constitutes to the very, "way of God getting something to us."
"Messengers come to you by way of dreams...she said "not always limited to some spiritual manifestation of God."
He has send his angels and my cousin has been one of them. I learn so much from our conversations, enough to fill me, to fill others.
In the name of Peace, I am blessed to not only have here as a cousin, but to be in a place where I can truly receive all that God places inside her to give.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Passing ... via my direction
It's a clear day, the sun is out, not too hot, but definitely warm. I'm focused, walking at a reasonable pace. I have on my brown gradient vintage sunglasses, my favorite seven jeans, that are nearly worn out, a nice pair of comfortable Ann Klein shoes, not the ones with the holes, and my funky multi-colored, mature floral leather purse.
A horn honks once, I turn and this handsome man seated up high, in an over sized black SUV with slightly tinted windows, stares with a serious look on his face, gesturing for me to walk his way.
It's amazing how body language goes far beyond spoken word.
I think to myself, If he's a gentleman like he looks, this won't be a long affair...I decide to pull up my shades, place them on my head and glance in his direction.
"Hello there," he said, once he saw that I was looking.
Still walking I shyly whispered "Hi," as I paused, pressed for time.
I take a deep breathe, unsure of what this encounter would turn out to be.
"Excuse me miss," he said clearly, distinctively."
"Do I proceed," I think, "I really don't have time to listen to this thirty-five year old man... Handsome; but I am unavailable, occupied, focused and not interested, asking me anything pertaining to taking me out on a date, going to dinner or especially calling me later, I'm far from available," I remind myself.
He overshadows all assumptions and says sharply,
"I am trying to get to Fenway Park. Do you know the best way to get there from here?"
I chuckle internally for about a split second. "What an unintelligent assumption," I thought.
And quickly before he notices, with poise, I say.
"I do...you want to get on Fenwood road, take a right thereafter onto Brookline Avenue," I say, "and follow Brookline Avenue straight and you'll run into Fenway Park, which will be on the right."
I continue my walk to staples as he drove away.
If every man simply asked for directions, they'd be much better led.
A horn honks once, I turn and this handsome man seated up high, in an over sized black SUV with slightly tinted windows, stares with a serious look on his face, gesturing for me to walk his way.
It's amazing how body language goes far beyond spoken word.
I think to myself, If he's a gentleman like he looks, this won't be a long affair...I decide to pull up my shades, place them on my head and glance in his direction.
"Hello there," he said, once he saw that I was looking.
Still walking I shyly whispered "Hi," as I paused, pressed for time.
I take a deep breathe, unsure of what this encounter would turn out to be.
"Excuse me miss," he said clearly, distinctively."
"Do I proceed," I think, "I really don't have time to listen to this thirty-five year old man... Handsome; but I am unavailable, occupied, focused and not interested, asking me anything pertaining to taking me out on a date, going to dinner or especially calling me later, I'm far from available," I remind myself.
He overshadows all assumptions and says sharply,
"I am trying to get to Fenway Park. Do you know the best way to get there from here?"
I chuckle internally for about a split second. "What an unintelligent assumption," I thought.
And quickly before he notices, with poise, I say.
"I do...you want to get on Fenwood road, take a right thereafter onto Brookline Avenue," I say, "and follow Brookline Avenue straight and you'll run into Fenway Park, which will be on the right."
I continue my walk to staples as he drove away.
If every man simply asked for directions, they'd be much better led.
Lessons from a Wise Man
"Do anything like you do everything," he said.
It's been over a year since I started working on the cardiac medicine unit, at Brigham and Women's Hospital--which happens to be an entirely different road than journalism.
I took this road, this journey I'll call it...unknowing, back then uncertain, of the rich experiences that awaited me. Today, when I look around at every registered nurse that I work hand and hand with, on a day to day basis, I see women and men of purpose, whom after long, extraneous academic journey's, long nights of studying, mastering and finally yearning for to complete that part of their journey, to move on, to put the degree as certified caregivers to the test, Like I, I've found they too have purpose, aspirations, desires to satisfy their craving.
Though the role I play in the business of care giving, deems different to some, my purpose lives within me. My stop at Brigham has had meaning. And in my times of reflection, I think of what he said, that wise man...that cold winter day, when he completely cconsoled me, helping me understand, in my time of wanting to do much more, as a writer, a creative thinker...that simply to "Do anything like you do everything" is a sincere way to live life.
I imagined this and thought:
"Like I meticiously write stories?"
"Like I creatively make gift baskets?"
I can certainly "Do anything like you do everything." It makes me think. Better yet it makes me desire, appreciate that this amongst many more inspiration conversations we engage in, this thought trails with me day to day. And like great combat in any battle in life , just when I need it most what lives within speaks volumes to my situation.
Making me think, live and practice...
"Work[ing] as if you have no money.
Lov[ing] as if you have never been hurt.
Danc[ing] like no one is watching.
Sing[ing] like no one is listening.
Today and forever, I live as if it were my last.
Thanks Mr. Lee
It's been over a year since I started working on the cardiac medicine unit, at Brigham and Women's Hospital--which happens to be an entirely different road than journalism.
I took this road, this journey I'll call it...unknowing, back then uncertain, of the rich experiences that awaited me. Today, when I look around at every registered nurse that I work hand and hand with, on a day to day basis, I see women and men of purpose, whom after long, extraneous academic journey's, long nights of studying, mastering and finally yearning for to complete that part of their journey, to move on, to put the degree as certified caregivers to the test, Like I, I've found they too have purpose, aspirations, desires to satisfy their craving.
Though the role I play in the business of care giving, deems different to some, my purpose lives within me. My stop at Brigham has had meaning. And in my times of reflection, I think of what he said, that wise man...that cold winter day, when he completely cconsoled me, helping me understand, in my time of wanting to do much more, as a writer, a creative thinker...that simply to "Do anything like you do everything" is a sincere way to live life.
I imagined this and thought:
"Like I meticiously write stories?"
"Like I creatively make gift baskets?"
I can certainly "Do anything like you do everything." It makes me think. Better yet it makes me desire, appreciate that this amongst many more inspiration conversations we engage in, this thought trails with me day to day. And like great combat in any battle in life , just when I need it most what lives within speaks volumes to my situation.
Making me think, live and practice...
"Work[ing] as if you have no money.
Lov[ing] as if you have never been hurt.
Danc[ing] like no one is watching.
Sing[ing] like no one is listening.
Today and forever, I live as if it were my last.
Thanks Mr. Lee
Monday, May 28, 2007
Pacing thy thoughts
I'll began by saying:
If I paced every thought, which would never happen, I would find myself in a lot less embarrassing situations, but what the heck, we live once and in my case with a story to tell.
I could go on for days, but I will start with a simple, yet hilarious story...
continued later...
If I paced every thought, which would never happen, I would find myself in a lot less embarrassing situations, but what the heck, we live once and in my case with a story to tell.
I could go on for days, but I will start with a simple, yet hilarious story...
continued later...
Good Ole' Recipes
She stands about 5'6 inches, coco colored flawless, smooth skin. A pleasant voice; she often whispers, "I'm here from the Chaplaincy...here to see if rooms, she'll give me the list, can receive communion?"
After I check the list and verify that they can or cannot.
It never fails, we seem to get into a conversation about something. Whether it is a piece of lovely jewelry from the motherland that she wears so elegantly, that I can't help but to comment on, or her hair, which in this case sparked our two minute conversation about natural, inexpensive ways to treat and condition your own hair, opposed to as we both have experienced going to the salon and spending so much on treatments.
"I have not washed my hair in a few weeks," she whispered bashfully.
I said, "really, I would never imagine that." "Do you get dandruff?"
"No." she shared. She proceeded, "I condition my hair myself," she explained to offset the cost of the beauty salon's pricing.
I noticed that her hair is natural, so I inquired how long it's been for her; she shared for years, many.
Before I knew it she was explaining in detail her homemade remedy for deep conditioners that sounded so interesting, I had to grab a pen, and began writing where I found room--on a small piece of paper with had virtually no room.
"You take the yellow part of an egg, a teaspoon of molasses..."
to be continued...
After I check the list and verify that they can or cannot.
It never fails, we seem to get into a conversation about something. Whether it is a piece of lovely jewelry from the motherland that she wears so elegantly, that I can't help but to comment on, or her hair, which in this case sparked our two minute conversation about natural, inexpensive ways to treat and condition your own hair, opposed to as we both have experienced going to the salon and spending so much on treatments.
"I have not washed my hair in a few weeks," she whispered bashfully.
I said, "really, I would never imagine that." "Do you get dandruff?"
"No." she shared. She proceeded, "I condition my hair myself," she explained to offset the cost of the beauty salon's pricing.
I noticed that her hair is natural, so I inquired how long it's been for her; she shared for years, many.
Before I knew it she was explaining in detail her homemade remedy for deep conditioners that sounded so interesting, I had to grab a pen, and began writing where I found room--on a small piece of paper with had virtually no room.
"You take the yellow part of an egg, a teaspoon of molasses..."
to be continued...
Botox Injection: Not just for Cosmetic Affairs.
May 22, 2007 started out extremely sunny. I remember feeling relaxed; and of course, hearing the blue jays chirping as they flew past my window certainly helped keep my mind stable. I thought to myself: No anxiety, not yet. However, a few hours later, more toward the time my minor surgical procedure was scheduled to take place--i began to worry, as it became clear to me that it was not feasible to locate a cream called KMB-4 to numb the area, that may or may not have worked, but was certainly worth the try.
Every Walgreen's I called had no cream in stock. And of course I tried looking the day of.
Stabilized in my mind, like a big girl would be, i remained calm, situated in my room, staring up at this serene environment, where candles burned a fresh, relaxing lavender aroma...thinking 'how bad could this really be?' It seemed logical to attest that it is only about thirty some odd needle injections in each hand. Though that sounds painful; i really imagined I'd feel the initial injection and be okay.
That was not the case. My eyes saw what my heart could not handle first.
Across the room, on a surgical table across, Dr. Yang began mixing, diluting... and sterilizing the needles--that from where I was sitting were entirely longer than the ones I imagined.
"I will not be using this needle for the Botox treatment, okay?" She said as she noticed my eyes enlarging.
"Okay," I murmured with slight reassurance.
This is when I began to breathe. It was at this moment that I felt breathing was the only mechanisms...one of the only, to maintain what people describe as my calm disposition.
Just when I thought I was okay, my mind raced...and I vividly remembered my recent diagnosis of a mild hyperhydrosis--which, after a year of research I found, that this is a condition in which glands excessively sweat. These glands happen to be in my hands. Other people who suffer from this potentially debilitating condition have the sweating under their arm pits, in their face, feet or other places in their body.
I recalled all the phone calls that I made in the last year to one of the leading hyperhydrosis medical clinic's in Miami pertaining surgery for this condition--to
my consistent research that landed me in the hands of a leading thoracic surgeon at Brigham And Women's Hospital, who actually diagnosed me as a mild case, last summer and suggested that I give it some more time and thought--considering that the procedure that he does involves overnight surgery, cutting the nerve. Which in turn has some repercussions that can cause horner's disease. After taking some, doing some research I'll call it. I came across Dr. Williams at Carney Hospital in Dorchester, who referred me to a leading surgeon: Dr. Andrew who went as far as scheduling an appointment for the Botox procedure to be done. It was during that time that Dr. Williams informed me that I would most likely grow out of this condition by the age of thirty--which is in fours years for me. He suggested that I consider botox injections, explaining that the radio active frequency ablation, paralyzes the gland so it won't produce sweat. Which is a less risky, not permanent more reasonable approach.
I agreed and appreciated his insight, which brought me on a totally different research avenue. Botox Injection.
As I considered the treatment and even set up an appointment with Dr. Andrew one of Carney Hospital's pain management doctors, there was a discrepancy with my Carney's Hospital gaining the approval to preform this procedure at the facility. That fell through....
But I continued with the faith that this road to a cure for my condition will prevail. And it did as I met a dermatologist Dr, Andrew Werchniak, at Brigham who, after performing a biopsy on my to figure out what I had, which turned out to be eczema, answered my question about, "How I go about getting Botox treatment," for this condition. I explained what I knew: He enlightened me on some more facts.
Except that this would be the most painful experience, I've encountered to date.
And it was.
More details forthcoming....
Every Walgreen's I called had no cream in stock. And of course I tried looking the day of.
Stabilized in my mind, like a big girl would be, i remained calm, situated in my room, staring up at this serene environment, where candles burned a fresh, relaxing lavender aroma...thinking 'how bad could this really be?' It seemed logical to attest that it is only about thirty some odd needle injections in each hand. Though that sounds painful; i really imagined I'd feel the initial injection and be okay.
That was not the case. My eyes saw what my heart could not handle first.
Across the room, on a surgical table across, Dr. Yang began mixing, diluting... and sterilizing the needles--that from where I was sitting were entirely longer than the ones I imagined.
"I will not be using this needle for the Botox treatment, okay?" She said as she noticed my eyes enlarging.
"Okay," I murmured with slight reassurance.
This is when I began to breathe. It was at this moment that I felt breathing was the only mechanisms...one of the only, to maintain what people describe as my calm disposition.
Just when I thought I was okay, my mind raced...and I vividly remembered my recent diagnosis of a mild hyperhydrosis--which, after a year of research I found, that this is a condition in which glands excessively sweat. These glands happen to be in my hands. Other people who suffer from this potentially debilitating condition have the sweating under their arm pits, in their face, feet or other places in their body.
I recalled all the phone calls that I made in the last year to one of the leading hyperhydrosis medical clinic's in Miami pertaining surgery for this condition--to
my consistent research that landed me in the hands of a leading thoracic surgeon at Brigham And Women's Hospital, who actually diagnosed me as a mild case, last summer and suggested that I give it some more time and thought--considering that the procedure that he does involves overnight surgery, cutting the nerve. Which in turn has some repercussions that can cause horner's disease. After taking some, doing some research I'll call it. I came across Dr. Williams at Carney Hospital in Dorchester, who referred me to a leading surgeon: Dr. Andrew who went as far as scheduling an appointment for the Botox procedure to be done. It was during that time that Dr. Williams informed me that I would most likely grow out of this condition by the age of thirty--which is in fours years for me. He suggested that I consider botox injections, explaining that the radio active frequency ablation, paralyzes the gland so it won't produce sweat. Which is a less risky, not permanent more reasonable approach.
I agreed and appreciated his insight, which brought me on a totally different research avenue. Botox Injection.
As I considered the treatment and even set up an appointment with Dr. Andrew one of Carney Hospital's pain management doctors, there was a discrepancy with my Carney's Hospital gaining the approval to preform this procedure at the facility. That fell through....
But I continued with the faith that this road to a cure for my condition will prevail. And it did as I met a dermatologist Dr, Andrew Werchniak, at Brigham who, after performing a biopsy on my to figure out what I had, which turned out to be eczema, answered my question about, "How I go about getting Botox treatment," for this condition. I explained what I knew: He enlightened me on some more facts.
Except that this would be the most painful experience, I've encountered to date.
And it was.
More details forthcoming....
Friday, May 25, 2007
One Day at a Time
I have learned a great deal in my twenty-six years on this earth. One of those wonderful lessons I've learned is how to pace myself to walk in patience...Let me just say, it takes a great deal of practice and isn't always easy, however...
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Happy Birthday Neil....Lee
Happy Birthday to you. Cupleanous Feliz. (i have to get the correct spelling when jessica wakes up, but you get the point). Today is a special man's birthday. He turns 30..Neil Lee I love dearly and completely feel you have made a unbreakable impression in my life.
From teaching me how to be free, to introducing me to unimaginable opportunities, spending endless time coaching me, by the way, for anyone who is ever looking for an astonishing team coach, hire Neil...he has the gift for inspiring people through his example of living that exemplifies a life, full and filled with creative ideas, opportunities for growth/freedom of the mind: the body: and soul....your ability to drink tea with absolutely no sugar inspired me to try to do the same, which essentially has made me a stronger human being. I used to use six sugars. Now I use one-two or none. A concept that was once unfathomable has become a rewarding activity. This is a sheer examples of how your gentle ways, radiate.
With love,
Sash
From teaching me how to be free, to introducing me to unimaginable opportunities, spending endless time coaching me, by the way, for anyone who is ever looking for an astonishing team coach, hire Neil...he has the gift for inspiring people through his example of living that exemplifies a life, full and filled with creative ideas, opportunities for growth/freedom of the mind: the body: and soul....your ability to drink tea with absolutely no sugar inspired me to try to do the same, which essentially has made me a stronger human being. I used to use six sugars. Now I use one-two or none. A concept that was once unfathomable has become a rewarding activity. This is a sheer examples of how your gentle ways, radiate.
With love,
Sash
Conversing with my Father
Today, we talked freely for about an hour.
I'm off work, feeling wonderful. And I have to say having a father like I have, is a blessing because he has almost all the answers.
"I want to quit my job," I say. His reply is there is an old saying, "Don't switch horses in the middle of the race."
He makes me think and he has a knack for generating information, tapping into his resources, and most gratifying coming up with million dollar ideas, like the gift basket business that he creatively suggested.
Today, with his advice and guidance and poised demeanor, I actually have explored the entrepreneur avenue and must say it has been a sweet ride.
Today...I asked my father if he would support me as I transition, as I think long and hard about leaving my full-time job as a unit coordinator, to fly high and begin to use the free time I will have to build my professional portfolio, step-by-step and plunge into my areas of interest: communications, public relations, including media relations, writing and so forth...
His answer of source was Yes.
He directed me in a few directions, considering that my only concern is the amazing benefit/health insurance package that I am going to perhaps loose.
One was to call the carrier and inquire on what kind of packages are available for someone interested in leaving their current position, but who has benefited from the plan and would like to remain a member.
Our conversation ended with my looking up an old friend of my dad's, who currently was hired within the public liaison office for Deval Patrick's campaign, while looking for Ron Bell's information, I came across this quote that stopped me in my track and made me say: "I have to share this on my blog site."
Here it is:
When I go into a room and sit at the table, all my life experiences
come with me. Sure, the business executive comes with me, but so does the welfare mother. The successful professional comes with me, but so does the child of a single-parent home, schooled in an overcrowded classroom. The senior public official comes with me, but so does the kid who’s first in his family to go to college, and the young family trying to make ends meet. All of this is a part of who I am.
— Deval Patrick
I'm off work, feeling wonderful. And I have to say having a father like I have, is a blessing because he has almost all the answers.
"I want to quit my job," I say. His reply is there is an old saying, "Don't switch horses in the middle of the race."
He makes me think and he has a knack for generating information, tapping into his resources, and most gratifying coming up with million dollar ideas, like the gift basket business that he creatively suggested.
Today, with his advice and guidance and poised demeanor, I actually have explored the entrepreneur avenue and must say it has been a sweet ride.
Today...I asked my father if he would support me as I transition, as I think long and hard about leaving my full-time job as a unit coordinator, to fly high and begin to use the free time I will have to build my professional portfolio, step-by-step and plunge into my areas of interest: communications, public relations, including media relations, writing and so forth...
His answer of source was Yes.
He directed me in a few directions, considering that my only concern is the amazing benefit/health insurance package that I am going to perhaps loose.
One was to call the carrier and inquire on what kind of packages are available for someone interested in leaving their current position, but who has benefited from the plan and would like to remain a member.
Our conversation ended with my looking up an old friend of my dad's, who currently was hired within the public liaison office for Deval Patrick's campaign, while looking for Ron Bell's information, I came across this quote that stopped me in my track and made me say: "I have to share this on my blog site."
Here it is:
When I go into a room and sit at the table, all my life experiences
come with me. Sure, the business executive comes with me, but so does the welfare mother. The successful professional comes with me, but so does the child of a single-parent home, schooled in an overcrowded classroom. The senior public official comes with me, but so does the kid who’s first in his family to go to college, and the young family trying to make ends meet. All of this is a part of who I am.
— Deval Patrick
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Water Has No Mother
Mother's Day Service at Bethlehem Baptist On Norfolk Street In Dorchester was remarkable.
Today, I took the offer and went with my mother and Ellis his aunts church. My visit to Bethlehem Baptist Church today felt equivalent to taking a trip down south, joining in worshipping with old folk in Henderson North Carolina.
In a very different manner, behind those walls, this congregation rocked--reminding me so much of a southern experience. The music was so rich, each vocalist informally shared their graceful gift of song, digging deep and singing rich lyrics that lifted my spirit...the choir brought back memories of my first and only trip to Henderson, when my grandmother passed, at her funeral where they sang with the same vigor.
An experience I desire to travel from state to state and join in. It is always a wonderful feeling to watch the presence of God, His power, creativity and peace resonate.
Like much of what the Pastor shared today about the capacity of mother's...the gift that it is, and the interesting components of motherhood. God and His Mother's
A mother is inspiration, she is essentially blessed with the gift to reproduce, and not only reproduce but instinctively, nurture, love, guide, understand, teach.
Trees have no mother. Nor darkness nor light, shared the Pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church.
Water Has No Mother
Interesting but true...
Today, I took the offer and went with my mother and Ellis his aunts church. My visit to Bethlehem Baptist Church today felt equivalent to taking a trip down south, joining in worshipping with old folk in Henderson North Carolina.
In a very different manner, behind those walls, this congregation rocked--reminding me so much of a southern experience. The music was so rich, each vocalist informally shared their graceful gift of song, digging deep and singing rich lyrics that lifted my spirit...the choir brought back memories of my first and only trip to Henderson, when my grandmother passed, at her funeral where they sang with the same vigor.
An experience I desire to travel from state to state and join in. It is always a wonderful feeling to watch the presence of God, His power, creativity and peace resonate.
Like much of what the Pastor shared today about the capacity of mother's...the gift that it is, and the interesting components of motherhood. God and His Mother's
A mother is inspiration, she is essentially blessed with the gift to reproduce, and not only reproduce but instinctively, nurture, love, guide, understand, teach.
Trees have no mother. Nor darkness nor light, shared the Pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church.
Water Has No Mother
Interesting but true...
Celebration Without Major Preperation
Sometimes it takes a few steps and less conversation. And even more importantly less thought about perfecting and more about the cause.
That is what I did on Saturday May 12, 2007.
I vigorously thought, "Sasha think simple," But toward the end of May 12, 2007, I will honestly say I began to question the plans for my mother's 56th birthday --things seemed to be falling apart.
Plans of having a small dinner at our house turned into whispers of something slightly different, but thankfully I didn't flinch...instead, I followed the heart, which spoke volumes to going a head with the plan: to celebrate my mother, for all that she is, that she has been, and will be forevermore.
With that drive, we successfully had a marvelous time.
The party ended at 12:42 a.m.
Dishes were in the sink, strawberries on the table around cheesecake, covered in whipped, multi-colored birthday sprinkles and strawberry glaze.
I had no physical room to eat another bite, as I was also filled by the smile that resided on my 57 year old mother's face--larger than I ever seen.
We all were exhausted, but it surely was a night worth the less-than-ten hour planning; She was pleasantly surprised, appreciative and full of grace for what I call a beautiful turn out to a tentative small dinner plan, planned 24 hours previous to her birthday.
Fifteen of our most close relatives and friends came out to celebrate, all notified only hours before.
The most important aspect was that my mother, who loves her children with remarkable unconditional love, was for the first time on her birthday being honored, at a special celebration for her, for her special day, without major preparation.
That is what I did on Saturday May 12, 2007.
I vigorously thought, "Sasha think simple," But toward the end of May 12, 2007, I will honestly say I began to question the plans for my mother's 56th birthday --things seemed to be falling apart.
Plans of having a small dinner at our house turned into whispers of something slightly different, but thankfully I didn't flinch...instead, I followed the heart, which spoke volumes to going a head with the plan: to celebrate my mother, for all that she is, that she has been, and will be forevermore.
With that drive, we successfully had a marvelous time.
The party ended at 12:42 a.m.
Dishes were in the sink, strawberries on the table around cheesecake, covered in whipped, multi-colored birthday sprinkles and strawberry glaze.
I had no physical room to eat another bite, as I was also filled by the smile that resided on my 57 year old mother's face--larger than I ever seen.
We all were exhausted, but it surely was a night worth the less-than-ten hour planning; She was pleasantly surprised, appreciative and full of grace for what I call a beautiful turn out to a tentative small dinner plan, planned 24 hours previous to her birthday.
Fifteen of our most close relatives and friends came out to celebrate, all notified only hours before.
The most important aspect was that my mother, who loves her children with remarkable unconditional love, was for the first time on her birthday being honored, at a special celebration for her, for her special day, without major preparation.
Naturally Appealing
My sister, I like to call her, but other's consider Kat and I a good pair...my sister, my friend, my homey as we call each other, knows first hand what it feels like for her "soul that lives within" to grow outward...
"Eventually I knew precisely what hair wanted: it wanted to grow, to be itself, ...to be left alone by anyone, including me, who did not love it as it was."-- Alice Walker, Living By The Word: Selected Writings 1973-1987
...I too am on that journey, loving every second of it.
"Eventually I knew precisely what hair wanted: it wanted to grow, to be itself, ...to be left alone by anyone, including me, who did not love it as it was."-- Alice Walker, Living By The Word: Selected Writings 1973-1987
...I too am on that journey, loving every second of it.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Early In The Morning Lord
It's 8:15 a.m.
I'm at work thinking about what feelings overcome me when I hear this song...
Early In the Morning Lord...I rise to thy...Hence the fact it is early, though I get started around 6: a.m. I feel like rising in the morning is the epitome of the gift of life .
It is like Elder Singletary, a strong woman of God, with a sweet, anointed voice and spirit, says in her favorite song...Early in the Morning Lord, I Rise to Thy.LYRICS SOON TO COME
It is that sincere moment when one feels the power of rising up to see another day.
Lyrics soon to Come
No one on this earth sings this song like Elder Singletary at Saint Memorial Evangelistic Center, better known as my church.
That may sound like bold, but it's true.
I do no justice to explaining how precious she exemplifies this song, vocally....what I will say is to fully prepare for hearing this anointed woman of God sing this song, is understand that spiritually if you loose control it's okay.
Men and women alike, you will most certainly shed a tear!
I'm at work thinking about what feelings overcome me when I hear this song...
Early In the Morning Lord...I rise to thy...Hence the fact it is early, though I get started around 6: a.m. I feel like rising in the morning is the epitome of the gift of life .
It is like Elder Singletary, a strong woman of God, with a sweet, anointed voice and spirit, says in her favorite song...Early in the Morning Lord, I Rise to Thy.LYRICS SOON TO COME
It is that sincere moment when one feels the power of rising up to see another day.
Lyrics soon to Come
No one on this earth sings this song like Elder Singletary at Saint Memorial Evangelistic Center, better known as my church.
That may sound like bold, but it's true.
I do no justice to explaining how precious she exemplifies this song, vocally....what I will say is to fully prepare for hearing this anointed woman of God sing this song, is understand that spiritually if you loose control it's okay.
Men and women alike, you will most certainly shed a tear!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Bruce...Is one of a kind
The minute that you meet this man, you will, I promise you will be compelled to laugh, and while chuckling, say to yourself, "he is one of a kind."
I'm not sure what kind of breed he is exactly, what Nana Gomes was eating during the 1940's, or what kind of special genetic make up grandpa Butler had, considering he was a Micmac Indian, roots tracing back to the Wokokomog tribe in Novia Scotia Canada, since I did not have the opportunity to get to know him, I do not know the side he contributed in making this man, I'm describing.
What I know is I have experienced to the deepest degree, a man who never fails to surprise me with his next move. He is completely Ambitious, Passionate and Positive, My Father , has a special gift--one of which he has rightfully shared with me.
Today, like any other Sunday, I woke up with a light heart, I had a great, unplanned weekend with my lovely friend Kat and newly introduced uncle Joel, Tonye and his lovely family, engagement with James Brown: healthy, conversation, great barbecue and bonding...that I love.
As much as I love my father, who for the last month has not been coming to church with me on Sunday's. He's either been working or staying home resting, not exactly comfortable wearing the only clothes he owns: a black tee-shirt, button sweater, a pair of faded black jeans, a fleece over coat and worn white sneakers.
If you have ever met my father, you know that this description of his outer appearance is far from what you would ever see him in.
It's usually the long, black jacket that you see, blocks away, lined underneath with some kind of very coordinated suit, two handkerchiefs strategically placed in the pocket of his jacket, a clean button down to match his suits, socks and shined black shoes.
But for the past few months his life has not on the outside looked as polished.
Today, as he does every Sunday, he called me and asked if I was going to church. My answer to him was "Yes." Then he asked if I would stop by to get him.
As I was driving to his house, dressed what he often describes as a sophisticate, I imagined he got his hand on a suit, maybe even a pair of shoes, one handkerchief.
But that wasn't the case.
My father came out in his the one pair of jeans he owns, his fleece over coat, button down sweater and over worn, white sneakers.
Compelled and speechless. I just shook my head and smiled.
This man is one of a kind. I sighed. in ah...God gave me a word, for all the he has been through, he still possess the beauty from within, tries with all his might to walk in that light, touches everyone lives that he comes across, no matter his past...and loves with such a open, empathetic heart.
I tell him often,especially when he is down "Dad you have something special." A gift I call it. And day by day I realize that what I feel inside about this man who no matter the circumstance has endured, homeless, afflicted...he is the first person I've ever met and grown to love completely, wholly and unconditionally.
A few weeks ago coming to church in this state was not a question. But today apparently he woke up willing to share that contagious inner smile, he has.
A man who is simply one of a kind has touched my life. And though our relationship has not always gone smoothly, I can say as time progresses, my love for him grows, my heart is filled with appreciation...and say to myself, what a blessing is it to have this time to reflect...this life to appreciate...this man to love.
What a gift...
I'm not sure what kind of breed he is exactly, what Nana Gomes was eating during the 1940's, or what kind of special genetic make up grandpa Butler had, considering he was a Micmac Indian, roots tracing back to the Wokokomog tribe in Novia Scotia Canada, since I did not have the opportunity to get to know him, I do not know the side he contributed in making this man, I'm describing.
What I know is I have experienced to the deepest degree, a man who never fails to surprise me with his next move. He is completely Ambitious, Passionate and Positive, My Father , has a special gift--one of which he has rightfully shared with me.
Today, like any other Sunday, I woke up with a light heart, I had a great, unplanned weekend with my lovely friend Kat and newly introduced uncle Joel, Tonye and his lovely family, engagement with James Brown: healthy, conversation, great barbecue and bonding...that I love.
As much as I love my father, who for the last month has not been coming to church with me on Sunday's. He's either been working or staying home resting, not exactly comfortable wearing the only clothes he owns: a black tee-shirt, button sweater, a pair of faded black jeans, a fleece over coat and worn white sneakers.
If you have ever met my father, you know that this description of his outer appearance is far from what you would ever see him in.
It's usually the long, black jacket that you see, blocks away, lined underneath with some kind of very coordinated suit, two handkerchiefs strategically placed in the pocket of his jacket, a clean button down to match his suits, socks and shined black shoes.
But for the past few months his life has not on the outside looked as polished.
Today, as he does every Sunday, he called me and asked if I was going to church. My answer to him was "Yes." Then he asked if I would stop by to get him.
As I was driving to his house, dressed what he often describes as a sophisticate, I imagined he got his hand on a suit, maybe even a pair of shoes, one handkerchief.
But that wasn't the case.
My father came out in his the one pair of jeans he owns, his fleece over coat, button down sweater and over worn, white sneakers.
Compelled and speechless. I just shook my head and smiled.
This man is one of a kind. I sighed. in ah...God gave me a word, for all the he has been through, he still possess the beauty from within, tries with all his might to walk in that light, touches everyone lives that he comes across, no matter his past...and loves with such a open, empathetic heart.
I tell him often,especially when he is down "Dad you have something special." A gift I call it. And day by day I realize that what I feel inside about this man who no matter the circumstance has endured, homeless, afflicted...he is the first person I've ever met and grown to love completely, wholly and unconditionally.
A few weeks ago coming to church in this state was not a question. But today apparently he woke up willing to share that contagious inner smile, he has.
A man who is simply one of a kind has touched my life. And though our relationship has not always gone smoothly, I can say as time progresses, my love for him grows, my heart is filled with appreciation...and say to myself, what a blessing is it to have this time to reflect...this life to appreciate...this man to love.
What a gift...
Sharing some Information
Forbes Lists the Top-Earning Men in Entertainment
Apr 30, 6:00 AM EST
By Lacey Rose, Forbes.com
Hollywood's leading ladies may be better at grabbing glossy ink, but when it comes to earning top dollar, the men still have them beat.
Journalist Lacey Rose wrote an article about the top-earning men in Entertainment--Denzel Washington of course, was at the very top of that list. I was capture by her choice of description. Read full article for an in-depth summary of what men are banking.
Apr 30, 6:00 AM EST
By Lacey Rose, Forbes.com
Hollywood's leading ladies may be better at grabbing glossy ink, but when it comes to earning top dollar, the men still have them beat.
Journalist Lacey Rose wrote an article about the top-earning men in Entertainment--Denzel Washington of course, was at the very top of that list. I was capture by her choice of description. Read full article for an in-depth summary of what men are banking.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Naturally Unfolding
...breath in. breath out... I remember the feeling that came over me in December of 2006, a few days before Christmas when I went to New York to visit Kat. Bliss met uncertainty but faith overpowered it all. Since faith is the substance of things hope for and the evidence of things not seen., I took a leap with many visual influences. I had Kat, who recently chopped off her long, thick, straight relaxed hair, Jessica who decided a few years ago, not sure how many, to allow her natural hair to gently grow, without touching it and Stacey, who all her life attests she has allowed her hair to naturally unfold--standing in front of my eyes as a stern visual testimony that: when one allows their natural hair grow...the beauty is surprisingly on so many different levels unfathomable.
And as I watch this process unfold, my level of excitement grows each day...This new beginning for me is breathtaking.
And as I watch this process unfold, my level of excitement grows each day...This new beginning for me is breathtaking.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Proverbs 14:15-16
I began my morning with this scripture:
A simple man believes anything but a prudent man gives thought to his steps. A wise man fears the Lord and shuns evil, but a fool is hotheaded and reckless.
A simple man believes anything but a prudent man gives thought to his steps. A wise man fears the Lord and shuns evil, but a fool is hotheaded and reckless.
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