I love to be inspired…Motivated by uselessness. It does something to me—empowers me to go on these discursions. It baffles me the things people allow to penetrate them. The things that are so far outside of them they have to make room in their being to accommodate bother. One would think I was still a 16 year old girl sitting under my mother’s roof with the way she reacts to me. The same woman who loves to remind me how grown I am as if that is an insult is the same woman who forgets that I am that grown ass woman she gave birth to 35 years ago. I am my own body, my own being, my own tapestry…The reality is my mother does not know me. Unfortunately, there are many among my family who don’t me. I suppose the mistake is to assume family should know and accept you as you are, as you evolve, as you be…this is an empty challenge.
From the Haitian perspective—OK—very western Haitian perspective—because honestly I am so American. And I love this dichotomy. I inhabit contradictory perceptions all about me. Comfortably. Because that is what we are required to do in this world. Put on our various hats and different faces to funnel through and live some kind of living. But perception is not reality. When does the young Haitian lady ever qualify for release? A re-lease on life? Or real ease moment in life? When? When she no longer breathes in this life and rests for eternity??? Where is this going?
Instead of getting so worked up about the things that do not matter, will never change, will never be within our control, will never come about no matter how much we rant and rave, will never cease to exist, how about we just be!!! Get to know ourselves and things within us that we despise so much…in others…How about we take a moment to pause in think in our right minds about saying what matters to the ones who matter most. We waste air and hearing with too many spoken words that should never be said…How about that for a thought? For a mission; a way of life??? How about we celebrate the end product of our being and our raising and our steering? We are not copies of anyone on Earth. Mothers are not called to raise duplicates, they are to raise originals—called to exceed the former—in whatever way that may appear to the original in the making. How about excepting that as reality and truth? Truth doesn’t change. And neither will I under the duress of anyone else’s tyranny. One life to live—ONE—that is what we are given. We have to give it the way we want to live it. Get on your mark and go.
On My Mission—Well!