peace

Intentional Curation

1 Comment / Wellness /

Sunrise is always special to me. It heralds the beginning of a new day, new hope, new opportunities. I prefer to start the new day with hope. Even if I know it’s going to be a hard day I still prefer to hope for the best. Sunrise has become a symbol of hope for me. I watch sunrise as often as I can. I love the way that sunrise teases its debut with yellow and orange hues prior to the sun’s featured appearance. Sometimes I brew myself a cup of tea and sit quietly admiring the unfolding of the show it creates in the sky. Sometimes I say my morning prayers while watching the sun rise. Sometimes I take photos. Regardless of how I choose to acknowledge it, sunrise helps me to start my day with a smile. While I was always a fan of sunrise, it was not always a part of my morning routine. There was a time when I used to turn the news on first thing in the morning. I wish I had learned earlier in life that what I was putting into my mind impacted my mood. But now that I am aware, I intentionally curate my mornings. An alarm of birds tweeting instead of music or sounds. Prayer instead of scrolling through social media. Beauty instead of news. Exercise instead of laying in bed longer. Fruits instead of carbs for breakfast. But most importantly hope and gratitude instead of worry and dread. Now that I intentionally curate my mornings, I am better able to manage my anxiety. It grounds me to start my day this way. Although I still have challenges, my perspective has changed. I feel hopeful now, which allows me to be more grateful, which allows me to be more gracious and so on and so on. Intentional curation of my mornings has been a game changer for me. How do you intentionally curate your day? What benefits have you found?

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In Spite Of…

2 Comments / Uncategorized /

I was diagnosed with anxiety about ten years ago but I have lived with it for all of my adult life and likely some portion of my childhood. I didn’t always have the language to describe it as anxiety, but it has always been around. Anxiety can show up for me as frustration, as anger, as sadness, as disorganization, as hives (oh the discomfort), as procrastination, as social awkwardness, sleeplessness, and a slew of other ‘ness’-es and ‘tion’s. It isn’t always easy to tell when I am anxious because physically I may look and sound the same. I may be able to show up and appear productive and engaged. But on the inside there is a fear gripping me like a vise; my heart feels like it is racing, I feel jittery and some times my head aches, my breaths feel shallow, and my hands shake. Sometimes it triggers feelings of shame and inadequacy, due in no small part to the unhelpful internal narratives I have internalized. Overall, in spite of an external calm, internally there is a great deal of tumult. The thing about anxiety is that for me it is always there in the background. There are days when it lays quietly in the background like a sleepy older dog. But on other days it leaps around with abundant energy and reminds me to worry and be afraid of almost everything and everyone on a never ending loop. On most days, there are some things that help me to manage my anxiety. But to be truthful, they are the things I don’t want to do on bad days. Exercise helps me a lot. A brisk walk. A bike ride or work out all help. Sitting near the water and allowing my breathing to match the rhythm of the water splashing against the shore is also calming for me. Laughing helps. Watching stand up comedians that make me laugh out loud are a good antidote for me. Sunshine. The brightness of the sun and the warmth of it on my skin also helps. Some days I have to take an anti anxiety medication to make it through the day. Everything is harder when I am anxious and it takes a lot of internal work for me to function without leaking on others, especially when I am simultaneously managing the expectations of other people. After many years of not being able to name what I was feeling, a few more trying to ignore it, and a few more locked in a shame spiral because of it, I have come to accept that anxiety is a part of my journey, not the entire journey but certainly an impactful part of it. Truthfully having a name for it and an understanding of how it works was a game changer. Like most things that feel disruptive, I don’t enjoy the debilitating symptoms, but most days I can recognize why they have appeared and use one of the strategies above to manage them. I am at the point where I don’t succumb as much anymore, I feel less shame and I dare to aim for peace in my life. On my journey to serenity, this chocolate girl is naming acceptance and management of anxiety as one of the essential items I carry with me. It is no longer a derailment or detour, though it can be a distraction at times. But I am journeying on to peace in spite of anxiety. I have accomplished many of my goals in spite of my complicated journey with anxiety and I will keep pushing for serenity too. Anxiety may not be your thing, but please continue on to your goal in spite of what ever your thing is. Don’t quit. You are totally worth it. Sidebar – my anxiety about posting this was also a journey I had to make, but here we are.

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Reclaiming My Joy

Uncategorized /

As a child, words always intrigued me. I loved reading and writing. I grew up in a country where a television in the household was not a staple, and at a time when Disney didn’t produce a new movie every week (insert eyeroll). So words were the foundation for my imagination. Whether I was listening to them on the radio during Sunshine Corner – my favorite radio show growing up, reading them in Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys mysteries, or writing them in my own made up stories, words were my safe space. In spite of being made to read Beowulf and Chaucer in high school (insert second eyeroll), I still enjoyed English so much that I chose it as my college major. And in college, I chose to study Black women writers. I immersed myself in bell hooks, Alice Walker, Gloria Naylor and Audre Lorde to name a few. There, in the midst of their writing, words affirmed me. The cadence of the words on the pages were familiar and validating and my love for words deepened. I wrote more, and me and words enjoyed a long relationship. And then grad school happened. In grad school, words were no longer affirming. They became poly-syllabic and pretentious and instead of being an invitation to another world, words became a hurdle that I was constantly trying to clear. They felt stiff in my mouth, and appeared unpleasant to my eyes. I was forced to read academic writing and worse – I had to produce it. Oh how my fingers and my brain protested at the thought of using a poly-syllabic word when a simple word would do. And if that wasn’t bad enough APA formatting made the experience all the more arduous. There were rules that made no sense to me, fonts I had to use, space recommendations I had to adhere to, and references that must be attached to every one of my thoughts because if someone else had not thought or said it before me it didn’t matter. Words were no longer a safe space. So I relegated myself to my journal. At least in my journal I didn’t have to edit myself. I could write in any color I wanted and ignore every single rule and although it felt confining to limit the words that often came dancing out of my head to my journal, at least I had a space. But one day, someone read my journals without my permission. All of my private thoughts and my precious words were no longer just mine. The betrayal was deep. And try as I might, I could no longer trust the page with my words. So I wrote for work, wrote for degrees, wrote for specific purposes but no longer for pleasure. It was not a great time for me. Without the lilting and melodious words that had been my safe space for so long, I felt like a flat piece of cardboard. I was functional, but I was definitely not the technicolor three dimensional version of myself that I was created to be. The thing is I love writing and reading, I just don’t like academic reading and writing. I don’t want to force my precious words into APA format. I don’t want to validate everything I have to say to someone else’s thought. I want to be free to just be with my words as they pour out of my mouth and fingers. Black women have a history of being confined and restricted, I want to connect back to what gives me peace and joy. I want some Chocolate Serenity. Words are just one part of it, there are so many things I revel in, my blackness, womanhood, sunrises, sunsets, good food, authenticity, healthy relationships and so much more. The chronicle of the journey begins today.

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