It’s. My. Life.


It’s my life
It’s now or never
I ain’t gonna live forever
I just want to live while I’m alive

Sometimes, we (meaning I), just completely forget this. It is my life. I’m not gonna live forever. And I do want to LIVE while I’m alive.  It really literally isn’t now or never, but figuratively, it might as well be.

Last night I was handed some interesting news regarding my job. Nothing bad, just something that may cause me to be way more “in front” than I was planning to be quite so soon. While my job has been new and exciting thus far, things are gonna ramp straight up to overdrive next month.

After I had some time to absorb this news, I started thinking about my own well-being. I started thinking about the things that I’ve seen others do that I want to be able to do. I started reminiscing about the things that I used to be able to do and my body balks at them now. And I started thinking about how if didn’t make a change, there would be no changes forthcoming.

Typically, I would have this revelation and then say to myself, OK! We’ll start this on Monday. But that’s how I would usually do things and the usual way hasn’t been getting things done. I decided to start this morning. During the week, I’m always up at 5 to get my workout/yoga in before I start work. I slack for a while and check Facebook/Instagram/email/Candy Crush before I get moving. Then before I know it, I’ve wasted too much time and I haven’t gotten everything done that I wanted to do.  Yes, I’ve wasted too much time to complete things in an almost 3 hour window.  Moral of the story: smartphones are the devil.

With this newfound (ha!) insight into my life, I figured I would try something new. The devil was to stay on its charger until AFTER I finished all the things I needed to do and it could come out to play when it was Instagram time. Whaddaya know, it worked! This morning I got my groove back with Cize (Shaun T), then probably bruised up my core with my weighted hoop, and finished it off with some yoga focused on the second chakra as it is Sacral September after all. Know what? It felt great! Something as simple as leaving that fucking phone alone left me all kinds of time this morning. Even enough time to buzz and gua sha my leg.

Buzz = using my magic wand to loosen up muscles and gua sha = something similar to Graston which you’re just gonna have to look up on your own. You’re welcome. You learned something today.

Even though it’s only been one day, I feel that I am now on the right path. I can start to believe that I am exactly where I need to be. This path of putting down the electronics and getting on the mat and being more present is where I need to be. A little more fit and a little more happy is where I need to be. I can see the path I should be on to meander around where I need to be and perhaps those branches that lead to where I can go.

I’m a work in progress, even at 41 years old. I’ll probably always be a work in progress and that’s ok. If you’re not making progress, then what are you doing? Question I had to ask myself. Do you need to ask it of yourself? Are you where you need to be? Do you know how to get there? Do you even want to? These questions – and many others – can only be answered by you….or the next episode of Soap. ( I SO hope that the theme song started playing in your head!)

Until the next time, all 4 of my readers, I hope you find all that you are seeking.

You're pretty…

…for a black girl.

Someone actually said that to me once.  It was many years ago, and while it stung a little then, if someone said that to me today, chances are great that I would punch said someone square in the mouth.

Who are you to judge what's pretty and why would the standards be different for different races?

Today, I've come to the conclusion that I don't care.  America, your standards of beauty are no longer important to me.  Fuck you.  I'm pretty whether it's to me, my boyfriend, some random construction worker, or you America, with your stuck up ideals and your fucked up morals.  I'm not just pretty, I AM BEAUTIFUL! 

My life is full.  Full of family, full of love, full of work (unfortunately), and full of school.  I am proud of who I am and who I will be.  I am me, dammit, and that's good enough.  There is no longer a single person out there that can tell me otherwise because, while I was lost for a while, I just found myself this morning while walking outside and you know what?  I LOVE ME!

I love all my 5 foot one inches.  I love all 128 of my muscular pounds.  I love my nappy-ass hair and my not-so-ghetto booty.  You won't see me on the cover of some magazine or parading down some runway, and you sure as hell won't see me starving myself because I think (or society has made me believe) that I'm fat. 

I will no longer obsess about stupid crap.  My hair is long enough and it grows more every day.  My boobs are the right size for my body.  That little bit of fat on my thighs or on my belly is no big deal, after all, I'm not 18 anymore.  It's okay to do things for myself and not feel guilty about it.  I am allowed to enjoy life!

I don't know what exactly brought this on, but whatever it was, I'm happy that it happened.  I honestly feel as though a huge weight was lifted off of me the moment I realized these things.  Now I can look around and see that I had everything I needed all along.  Now I can look around and not see that girl that has nicer hair or the girl that's thinner or taller or richer or anything-er.  They're all just regular people with regular problems, probably problems worse than mine.  I am rich in life and rich in love and I need nothing more.

Excuse me while I go live.


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