By now you have read the meme to this post and I can almost guarantee that you either laughed out loud or shook your head in agreement. I consider myself a pretty strong woman and I can think of so many times I took a good cry before or maybe after I bossed up and handled things. Typically none of us tells that part of the story, just the part where we show strength. For some reason, we tend to think vulnerability makes us seem weak and fragile, but that is not true. When we are vulnerable we are actually showing just how strong we are.
One of the most recent crying/boss up moments happened to me when my mommy called and told me she had to have heart surgery. I immediately stepped into momma bear mode right then and there. When she hung up the phone, I grabbed my puppy and cried like a baby. That was my mommy and I could not understand why this was happening to her. After my soul was cleansed from my good ole cry, I bossed back up because I had no choice but to be strong for her.
Depending on my mood I might be listening to Bach, Beethoven, Tupac, Jay-Z, Charlie Daniels or Faith Hill. Thinking back on another moment, one day as I finish a verse in one of Pac’s songs that talked about taking someone out the game, I started to think back to when that same song was playing in the car when I was riding with my daddy. He looked over at me as I sang along getting every word right and asked why was I singing that song like I had lived it. I replayed that moment like it had just happened. I laughed for a split second before I had a mini-meltdown. Tears, snot, the ugly cry and all happened so quickly. This went on for what seemed like forever. Then all of a sudden my phone rang and I saw my son Chris was calling. I gathered my composure and answered. When Chris asked me what I was doing I answered in my boss voice,” listening to some Pac and thinking about your Paw Paw Mike!” I could not let Chris hear me upset because he would have automatically thought something bad had happened no matter what I said to him. He worries about me enough, so I had to boss up before the call. Afterwards I had to laugh at myself.
Continue to be strong, stoic and persevere, but if you need to take a moment and cry it’s okay. Just make sure you boss back up and take care of business. If you need help doing it, just ask. It’s okay!
“…you know that a good, long session of weeping can often make you feel better, even if your circumstances have not changed one bit.”
― Lemony Snicket, The Bad Beginning
I know its been a while since I have embraced my blog, but I am so happy to be writing this post. As I sit here an write I am listening to Drake’s In My Feelings that has taken social media by storm with the shiggy challenge. I have been singing and trying to dance to this song for 3 days now. My puppy Gambino started out enjoying the festivities, now he just goes and hides when I start the music. Of course you know I force him to dance with me because I am his mom dammit! LOL! Needless to say today is a good day.
For those of you who know me personally, you know I am a planner. For the most part I need to know how, when and where when I am doing something preferably before hand. I am working on being more spontaneous, but I must say it is not easy. I call it being organized, others call it being a control freak. With that being said, once upon a time I really thought I could plan love. Yes you read it right, love. One of the most fickle, wild, crazy, unpredictable feelings/action ever know to man. The list was made. Everything from the way he looked, his job, hygiene skills, the type of car he drove to what kind of parents he would have. I wouldn’t say I was on the hunt, but I would say rather I was carrying this list with me everywhere and if I met someone who fit then it was a good thing. Right? WRONG! I will tell you why. If you never meet a man with these qualifications then you think you have failed at love in some form. Like maybe he is not out there for you and you are destined to be alone. Or you end up frustrated and say to hell with the list and decide to choose from being a workaholic or a crazy dog lady. Whatever comes first.
Then, it just happens. The day you are minding your own business while you are in Publix trying to find ripe bananas for yourself and fresh ones for your puppy. He asks you if you could hand him a fruit bag. (That he could’ve gotten himself!) As you are handing him the bag you both end up dropping your fruit. 5 minutes later you exchanged numbers and he says he is going to call you once he gets home. ( AND HE DOES!) That is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Sometimes there is no handbook or script. You just have to go with it. Not everything is meant to be planned. Life is too short not to make the best of it. It is when you least expect it the magic begins.
We Meet For A Reason. Either You Are A Blessing Or A Lesson
I consider myself an avid music lover. I listen to all types of music. I love r&b, rap, soul, jazz, gospel, country, blues and classical. Music really makes my heart smile. I can remember as a little girl using one of my combs as a microphone when I sang the latest tunes. I would stay in the mirror for hours singing my heart out. My cousin and I even started a singing group. The funny thing is she could actually sing and I was really good at singing over the music. Too bad I didn’t have auto tunes back then. I listened to my Walkman so much, I would put the batteries in the freezer in order to keep the music going. Music has the power to help form bonds and bring happiness in any situation. When I was growing up, my mother and I would sing each and every song by Anita Baker and Luther Vandross at home and in the car. We sang the songs as if we were headlining the shows ourselves. You choose your genre depending on how you are feeling at the time. I really don’t like driving in Atlanta traffic, so when I do it requires very loud rap music. I put on Ludacris’ song “Move”, take a deep breath and I am ready for my journey. I belt out this song at the top of my voice over and over until I get to where I am going. Am I singing to relieve stress or am I giving other drivers instructions? Either way, it gets me pumped and on my way. When I need to write or study, I listen to Mozart or Beethoven. Classical music takes me to the countryside in England and relaxes me to the point were everything begins to make sense. Okay, maybe I go to sleep and forget what I am doing. It’s okay, I just start over when I wake up.
Music can take you back to a good place or an unpleasant one. I can still remember the song that was playing the night my father passed away. It was Jill Scott’s “I Keep/Still Here.” The long drive from the hospital as tears rolled down my face and that song will forever be burned in my brain. It’s such a beautiful song, but whenever I hear it I am overcome with sadness because all I can think about is the night I lost my father. I take my time to cry and then I try to remember music that reminds me of a fun time with him. Like one of the first times I drove back to Alabama after I moved to Atlanta. I had just purchased a new Honda Accord and my father wanted to go for a test drive. I literally forgot I was listening to Trina’s album “The Glamorest Life” at full blast when I was driving home. I forgot to turn it off before he got in the car. When he came back into the house, he gave me this look and said ” what was that girl saying on that song?” I told him it was my ex-husbands CD and he forced me to listen.
Music is my friend and motivates me when I need it. Music can really help if you give it a chance. There have been studies done that prove listening to music improves chronic pain, your memory and your workout. Listening to music can lift your mood and help you relax, which will bring down blood pressure and relieve muscle tension. With all these benefits that music can carry, it’s no surprise that music therapy is growing in popularity. Many hospitals are using music therapists for pain management and other uses that support their patients’ health. So I say listen to your music and dance to the beat of your own drum.