Who's On Your Team?

Today, while watching Good Morning America, I saw the words:  Who's On Your Team?  It was a caption that was part of a woman's story who is going through the rigors of chemo.  It spoke to what we need when we are going through life's challenges.  They also talked about Robin Roberts and the far-reaching support she's received throughout her difficult treatment.  I began to think about this time in my life.

Who's on my team?

With all the people I interact with, who is on my team?  I'm reminded of the book, The Five Love Languages, where Gary Chapman has identified 5 ways love is communicated.  He believes that if you can understand your partner's love language and he understands yours, you can have a satisfying relationship.  It is a very thoughtful book and has helped me to identify my love language.  My primary and secondary languages are quality time and acts of service.  I'm not content with merely talking on the phone, emailing, texting and the like.  Connections are important to me.  I want to see the person.  I also value their involvement.  If a person is close to me and doesn't show up for what's significant in my life, I question the substance of the relationship.  I use to get really bothered about that and in some cases I still do.  It depends on how close that person is to me and what expectations go with that.

Knowing this has called into question what I need going forward.  In the Spring of 2013, I will be launching my first book.  This is really, really big for me.  Like my 50th birthday and my housewarming, this is right up there for me.  I realize the whole point of a book launch is to introduce your book and to encourage people to buy it.  Just as important to me is having folks come.  If a person I consider a close friend foregoes the launch and purchases the book, I'll feel let down.  I will.  It's not merely about the goal; just as important is having them share the experience.

Most of us extend love to others in ways meaningful to us.  Though it may make us feel good, the other person might not understand that.  All this is of consideration at this time in my life.  If I feel that I am extending myself to speak another's love language but they aren't extending themselves likewise, then it doesn't work.  That's when I dial it back a bit.  Sounds easy, right?  Not really because emotions are often involved.  That's why I've made a conscious decision.  If a relationship requires more than I can give, I stop and dial it back.

When a rocket soars to a certain height, the rocket boosters have to fall off else the rocket will blow up.  I think that's the same way life is.  I've finally found what I am called to do and I am so grateful.  I actually feel as if I'm soaring at a higher altitude.  I have something to look forward to.  I will be working for myself doing what I LOVE.  What a gift!  As a result, I'm not in the same place that I use to be.  I'm not wishing.  I am doing.  Some friends will make the transition with me but others will not.  That makes me feel sad.  If I could bundle everybody up together and physically take them I would, but that's not how life is.  Sure, I can choose to be disappointed, hurt, angry or I can choose to be grateful for the time shared and the value they brought to me.  I choose the latter.

I welcome with open arms and an open spirit all who God will send my way.  And I bless those whose season is over.

  

A God Idea!

Have you ever had an encounter during your sleep?  No, I don't mean your husband spooning you unexpectedly....lol.  I mean a Divine encounter.  Now, I've had meaningful dreams, but I can only remember one other time when I knew Something Greater transmitted a creative idea to me.  It was when I was a young mother and the Minister of Music at my church.  Our praise team was in a flow of creative energy where the members were all writing original music.  It was a glorious time, one that has not since been duplicated for me musically.  Well, it was during this time that, while asleep, I heard an up tempo song being sung by a choir.  I heard the lyrics, the arrangements, the vocal parts, everything!  I later titled it "Rejoice."  It had a vibe like Barry White's Love Theme.  I can still remember it to this day:

Rejoice
Rejoice
Rejoice
Rejoice

The Lord is good
He's wonderful
Holy is His Name
The Lord is marvelous
Filled with splendor
Holy is His Name 

Different from dreams where you have images and scenes, this was a sound.  No images.  Nothing preceded it or followed it.  No choir director.  No robed singers.  None of that.  Just the song in my head while I slept. 

This encounter was the same.  I knew I was asleep.  I was very aware of that.  Yet, I heard a new idea.  I'm not going to put it all out there as it is being developed, and just as important, timing is critical.  But I will say that it was a God-idea.  I had not even conceived doing something like this and I, with baited anticipation, await the time when I will implement it.  In the meantime, I am even more certain that I'm smack dab in the center of where I am purposed to be.  Creativity and joy are always byproducts. 

Videography

Nobody told me that after writing a book, you go through a period of not feeling motivated to write. Other than my piece about the Inauguration, I honestly have had to push myself to keep blogging, to keep writing, to keep posting comments on Facebook.  To stay connected.  

Today, I did something different.  I took my camera and recorded my video for my landing page on my website.  I typed up a new 60 second script and stepped in front of the camera.  Very impromptu.  I didn't have my hair did the way I plan to.  I didn't put on any makeup.  I just went for it. 

There were so many takes that after a while I had my script almost memorized.  I was able to look into the camera and speak from my heart. 

Certain things I've taken notice of that I want to take care not to do with my video.  One, I don't want it beyond 1 minute.  I've gone to various websites and some videos just go on and on.  My attention span is not that long, I must say.  I'm not ADHD, but I just think to myself "get to the point."  So, note to self:  get to the point.

Secondly, I want to have that high definition look to my video.  I don't want it to be just a white or beige wall behind me.  Does nothing for the quality of the video.  Some color is needed.  I want vibrant colors.  I want my video to pop.  Doesn't matter that I am using a digital camera.  I want a quality 60 seconds.

Thirdly, I want my surroundings, my outfit, my makeup, my hair, everything to be authentic.  Unless I'm talking about cooking, I don't want the kitchen to be my background.  Sure, the bathroom and the kitchen seem to have the best lighting.  But neither place was the right place. So I looked around my house and did some takes around the piano.  That was authentic but not much color.  My squat spot eventually was right beside my bookshelf.  I have this really nice afrocentric picture so I found a great spot between the picture and the bookshelf.  Also, I held the camera in one hand and looked directly into it.  It think I connected more.

I'm gonna keep practicing until I get it down.  The more comfortable I get, the more my personality comes out.  That's what I have.  It's enough.  

Inauguration 2013

As I watch Colin Powell's interview on GMA's Inauguration 2013 coverage against the backdrop of a racially diverse choir singing, "this land is your land, this land is my land.....this land was made for you and me," I remember where I was at the first inauguration.  I had just been released from the hospital.  I had demanded it actually.  You see, after a groove session with my then-boyfriend, my pelvis locked and I was in a great deal of pain.  It had been a little over a year since my hysterectomy so I thought I was free and clear to assume a normal life.  Obviously I wasn't.

I had been in the hospital for a couple of days, going through a battery of tests as the source of my pain could not be found.  The doctors were baffled.  I was miserable.  Yet, I had the support of the smiling faces of my friends and couldn't help but laugh and be uplifted by them.  I have to acknowledge the devotion of my sister, Meshelle Taylor, who with a soldier's heart wasn't going to let me be left behind.  She stayed with me and questioned the doctors and nurses until I was moved to a private room at around 3 o'clock in the morning.  I'll never forget that. 

So here I was, propped up on pillows with my cell phone in one hand and my laptop on my lap.  Having taken some pretty effective pain killers, I watched, cried, texted and sent out messages all day.  So proud.  So touched.  So moved.  Now, as I prepare for some girlfriends to come over to watch this second Inauguration with me, I'm even more moved.  Despite a difficult first four years, where many who helped him get elected questioned whether he was the man for the job, we are about to witness THE man for the job being sworn in for a second time. 

I think about Martin Luther King Day and the parallels.  Many of us, I think, have forgotten that Dr. King was a polarizing figure.  He wasn't welcomed.  He was mocked.  He was called a Communist.  He was called a Socialist.  He was called uppity and a troublemaker.  He led many crowds, this is true, but there were also people of color that resented him for "stirring the pot."  Things were bad, yes; but they were familiar and here he was messing with the system.  There were those who felt he didn't need to do that.  That he wouldn't be successful.  There were those of his own race who said in their hearts that he was a problem.  People who use to smile and nod at them were now crossing to the other side of the street.  Their safety was threatened.  Their children were being harassed.  They were being fired from jobs because of this "troublemaker."  So many parallels.  Opposition from political giants, party fights and muscle flexing, egos gone wild.  As if that wasn't enough, spending nights in jail, attacked by dogs, even a cross burned on his own front lawn and still he was clear on a nonviolent demonstration.  To some, he was a punk. To other, she was a hero. 

Change never comes without a cost.  Our people have to learn that.  You don't turn-coat when things get tough, you press in.  I didn't elect President Obama as a Savior.  I didn't elect him as a perfect man.  I know in my heart, this is his time.  This is his hour.  This is his season.  And like Martin, some things won't be celebrated until after his term is over. 

And so, I salute President Obama today and his spirit guides Martin Luther King and Abraham Lincoln and those who have gone on before whose stories were never told.  I am moved to live the dream in every decision I make and by choosing freedom amidst all who tell me I should chose otherwise. 

So much for our little snow event.  From where I'm looking, there is no evidence of it.  The roads have that soaked gloss but even the water has been lapped up by the sunshine.  Oh well.

It's been three weeks.  So much is happening in my life.  Sadly, I spent the latter half of last week helping my mom as her husband of 9 years passed away.  It was interesting to me that my mom was most concerned about others, not herself.  It is of no surprise though.  My mom has always put others before herself.  I find it one of her most admirable qualities.  Of course, her child would.  However, the now grown daughter only wants her to enjoy her remaining years.

It's these kinds of profound life events that bring perspective to your life.  I am 53 which at age 11 seemed ancient.  Almost fossil-like, actually.  Surprisingly, except for puffy eyes and a few wisps of lines across my forehead, I think I look pretty good.  That's just typography though.  My Wiser Self knows that time is precious and the clock is ticking.

Reinforces for me how I want to spend my time.  I work.  I love to work.  This season of life however has been about how I work.  I know that doing one thing all the time becomes mundane.  I like the eclectic nature of my lifeforce.  What lifes me is the freedom of picking and choosing.  I like the project nature of things.  That's the entrepreneur in me.  Certainly I know the city I live in:  administrative, music and coaching.  But there are so many avenues.  So many streets I can take to get from Point A to Point B.  That's what I like.  I get to choose my path.  I'm working hard to get to that freedom of choice:  if it resonates with me, I do it:  if it doesn't, I don't.

That's why I'm thankful for my Business Strategist.  She understands how I work.  She is pulling out my marketable qualities to create products that will give me a steady stream of revenue.  That's so important.  Most of us entrepreneurs do our thing without having a strong financial foundation to stand on.  We end up getting in goo gobs of debt and constantly having to chase the next moneymaking involvement--whether it rings true or not.  This is not why we do what we do.  We want freedom.  That's the whole point.  So, I'm grateful for the vision she brings.  

In fact, part of that vision is my book.  Yep, I'm writing a book.  My Business Strategist gave me 30 days to get it done.  For some, this might be impossible; but not me.  I am ready, willing and able for the challenge.    To that end, I'll say goodbye for now.  Got lots to do!!!

Latta.

I AM FOUND

While eating my cereal and pondering my day, I turned on my TV which was on OWN (of course).  It was an encore of Oprah's Farewell Event and Stedman was having words.  He talked of how, with all her notoriety, she still brings her lunch to work everyday.  As Oprah watched with tears in her eyes and threw a kiss his way, to her surprise Stedman introduced the incomparable Aretha Franklin who sang "Amazing Grace."  Everyone knew that Aretha had had some major health challenges but stood flat-footed and belted out a rendition with the power and vocal stylings of her younger years.

If you've ever been lost and now you're found, that song stirs such gratitude to the God of all Grace who found you.  That, for me, trumped what I had been taught God's only agenda was:  sin and hell.  For I was in church all my life and even "got saved" on my knees in my parent's bedroom, but I was as lost as lost could be.  I knew church.  I knew church culture and doctrine.  People would even say I grew up in a Christian home.  But I didn't know God for I didn't know myself.

I wasn't good enough.  I wasn't holy enough.  I always came up short.  The rules were so tight and God seemed so hard to appease!  I tried, God knows I tried.  I so wanted to belong.  I so wanted to be righteous.  Yet, I was constantly tormented and afraid of being doomed to a fiery hell.

All my life, I felt God's presence.  It wasn't hokey or mystical, it was a warm, caring presence; but it was often perverted by those around me who made it not holy enough, not spiritual, not compliant with the doctrine that those around me swore by.  I prayed, I fasted, I tarried.  Shoot, I got saved every Youth Revival but I was still lost.  Everytime I'd hear, "if God were to come today, if you're not sure you'd go back with him, you'd better come to this altar," I would think of all that I lacked and how I kept messing up and would shamefaced come to the altar to beg for forgiveness.

So you see, God finding me was the most wonderful, awesome, amazing thing that ever happened in my life.  I know it sounds weird given the torment I just described, but He showed me that was my environment but that wasn't Him.  That is what people did based on where they were and how they were taught.  They were still stuck in legalism, much like the Old Testament accounts; but hadn't really made the heart shift to grace. They read the letter but didn't truly get the spirit of the letter.  He knew the good, the bad, the ugly, the eye-rolling, cussin under my breath me and said "you're enough."  And if  anything needs to be changed, God is God enough to do it.  No one else gets a vote, not even the preacher.  Not even the church culture.  That, my friends was my salvation.  He affirmed me as me.

Me, the person who hated going to Sunday School.  Me, the person who hated midweek services.  Me, the person who preferred to share a family breakfast than hurry to Sunday worship service.  Me, the person who couldn't understand how by not paying tithes I was cursed with a curse.  Me, the person who called a thing a thing much to the disapproval of those around me.  Me, the woman who wasn't created to fit a religious box or to color inside the lines.  Me!

So, while many might not be able to get with the person I've become, I know of God's Amazing Grace and I am abiding in a state of grace.  I don't have to worry about messing it up.  I live there.  It's a of place rest.  It's a place of foundness.  I did everything I could to botch it up, but God accepted me with open arms and a chuckle because He knew I was finally getting it.  I was finally getting why Christ came.  As a result, I don't live with a sin-conscious, a hell-conscious or a devil-conscious.  I live with a grace-conscious.  I live with a found-conscious.  I am free, unapologetically and hilariously FREE.  This, my friends, is what the birth of the Christ Child means to me.  He came to give His life so I could have mine.  So tomorrow, should the Lord allow me to see it, I will celebrate this Season with more meaning and gratitude than ever before.  And if He chooses to come and take me home before then and this is the last thing I write, it is well with my soul.  For I was lost but now I'm found.  Was blind but now I see.

Business Strategy in Full Effect

Today, I had another session with my Business Coach.  I'm so excited that if you struck a match, I would go up in flames!!!!  I feel so alive.  I feel so inspired.  I feel so on the right track for my life.  There is nothing like it.  Wheee!!!!!!

We focused on my financial prospectus and how much money I'd need to comfortably be in business for myself.  I was actually surprised that I didn't need more.  One thing I need to know before I fully cut the chord is how much it would cost a woman my age to have individual health, dental and disability insurance.  That is major!   That will determine whether I can move forward in my projected timeframe or whether I need to push it out a little bit further.

Next thing.  Katrina asked me who is my ideal coaching client.  Having coached a phenomenal woman, it was easy for me to describe her.  I'll call her P.O.W. "This is the type of person you're called to help," she replied.  My mouth dropped open because I realized in that moment that I'm called to coach women like me. 

Don't misunderstand.  I am not suggesting a cookie cutter of me.  Not at all.  I'm speaking more of their spirit.  Their energy.  There is a certain dynamic rhythm to us.  We are the make-it-happen woman.  I know this woman.  She is self-directed and has beaten the odds on so many levels.  We think outside the box.  We deplored boxes!!!  We've slayed those dragons that kept us on lock-down.  We know how to fight our way out and our way through.  We're resourceful.  We're resilient.  We got that.  It's merely the next level of living that we need help with.  It's going from fighting for to owning the territory we fought so hard for.  This gives another level to my calling.  I not only know what I am called to do, but I know who I'm called to help.  This way, I don't spend time trying to morph myself or someone else into somebody we're not. 

This is sooooo freeing!  My homework assignment is to write down P.O.W's attributes and why it is such a joy to coach her.  Next will be to put together screening questions that will help me to recognize this person from potential clients.  What I see in this is the importance of knowing who you're called to.

My P.O.W. leaves me energized.  This is key.  There is a sharing of energy that lifes us both.  This is so different from how most folks look at those whom they are called to serve.  There's the image of the minister who is exhausted after laying hands or the person who is exhausted after a day's work. 

Maybe this is why counseling wasn't a good fit.  Without a doubt, I was effective.  Earlier this year in fact, I visited the agency where I had my first counseling job.  We talked about how things were when I was there and how much I was missed.  I know they'd welcome me with opened arms.  Still, as effective as I was, I got little back to restore me.  The addicted population was brutal.  The resistance.  The denial.  The cyclical regurgitation of the same problems, the same victim-mentality, the same story as if they are caught in an endless do-loop left me drained.  No matter what skills or insights I offered, few could absorb it.  They were so in their own heads that the work it took was too much.  The only reason I lasted as long as I did was because I literally took my phone off the hook on weekends.  I didn't enlist in anything that was obligatory.  Outside of supporting my son through high school, I was too tired for much else.  But as the song goes, "it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life....and I'm feelin GOOD!!!!!"