It's the Little Things...

Today I planned to do absolutely nothing (and enjoy it)!

My plan was interrupted at 11:36am when I got a text from my chaplain/mentor/friend Tanya Bennett. We walked down to Soho33 for a fabulous lunch. It was a wonderful mix of tasty arugula salads and great conversation about the church, scholarship, and relationships (and the ways in which they overlap, or don't). For dessert we had coffee and nibbled on a piece of chocolate cake big enough to feed a small army. We walked back to campus and from there I walked home (through the forest by myself--no deer in sight).

My afternoon was spent hula-hooping while watching The Taking of Pelham 123. I have to admit, Denzel Washington gets more handsome every year. Grey hair suits him.

Now I'm going to curl up with the latest copy of Essence magazine, sushi (& moshi balls) delivered by Yuki Hana, and Law & Order reruns. It's the little things that mean much...

Ooops, I almost forgot...

I updated the blog's design. The other was too something I cannot quite put my finger on. I appreciate the layout of Loverly Notions (I appreciate the writer and the content, too). Although Kem and I will often go shopping and buy the same pieces (we freak them in different ways), I couldn't straight bite off of her blog. But I did need a new look. After lots of arranging and rearranging and griping over not remembering html well enough to format this thing on my own (without templates), here goes...

Feel free to share your thoughts, but know that I love it and will not be changing it until I don't love it any more! (Which knowing me could be tomorrow or could be in the year 2049!)

Baby it's Cold Outside...

It is 29º and I am about to go walking. Why, you ask? (amid thoughts of "girl, are you crazy, it's below freezing" and "you must smoke that good CRACK.") Well, because among other things, I committed this year to taking care of myself in the midst of book reading, thought thinking, and paper writing. So far, so good. I hit a couple of bumps in the road when big papers were due, but for the most part I've kept my workout schedule even when I traveled to South Carolina, Texas, and Tennessee. I've lost 15lbs since September and I'm halfway to getting my body to feel and look like it did when I attended my orientation at Drew 2.5 years ago. I'm doing it slowly and surely. I am cooking more, and eating less (using a salad plate for dinner)but I haven't gone to any crazy extremes. I tried, but I love food—rich food—too much! (In fact, I'm still eating my Atlanta Bread Company chcolate chip cookies because I loooove them so much!)

Oh, I almost forgot...Back to being outdoors in the freezing cold. I could go to the gym. We even have an indoor track on campus. But the gym bores me. Plus I could be in the gym for 6.5 minutes and feel like I've been there forever. For me, there is something about being outside—beholding the beauty of God's creation, breathing fresh (albeit cold) air, seeing people, scouting out deer (and being afraid when I see them), and the change of scenery (even when you walk down the same block two days in a row). So, I will head outside. Perhaps the wind died down some from yesterday. That is my prayer. Also, as much as the gym bores me—it is my safe haven when it is raining and/or snowing. It will be the place to be when the winter really sets in. Plus, there are squash courts at the gym. Squash makes me happy (even though I look crazy playing and I play by my own rules).

And I'm into alternative exercise these days. I'm not talking pole dancing classes (which are all the rage, but the womanist and Jesus in me won't let me do it). I've taken to hula-hooping lately. I'm not talking about hula-hooping like we used to do it on the playground back in the day. (OK, maybe I was one of those Black girls who couldn't hula-hoop back in the day, but watch me now!) The motion is the same, but I dare some third-grade sassy girl with asymmetrical afro puffs to try to work with the hoop I have. For one, its giant. (But hey, I'm a big girl now. Plus experts say adults should use bugger hoops than kids.) Secondly, it is weighted and has these massaging/digestion aiding thingies (several advanced degrees later I still use the word) on the inside of the hoop (see image above). I hula-hoop while listening to my Rock Steady Radio station on Pandora. I hula-hoop while watching Law & Order reruns. I hula-hoop while visioning my future. I hula-hoop. In 2010—watch out world—thanks to a generous Christmas present from my momma (why my mom cannot keep secrets about gifts is yet another blog) I will be Wii and Wii Fitting it to good health.

But until then, I'm heading out to walk and breath. But first, let me put on my thermal underwear and headphone earmuffs. Baby, it's cold outside!

Think on these things...

I came across this Haiku written by Sonia Sanchez yesterday. It is from the book titled, Like the Singing Coming Off the Drums. Think on these things...

what is done is done

what is not done is not done

let it go...like the wind.

Times of Refreshing...

....so I just came in from an extended lunch date with one of my super/fabulous/amazing/inspiring women-folk friends and I realized just how refreshed I was from simply being in her presence, eating, laughing, and even, at times, holding back tears. This made me think about other times in my life when I have been refreshed. I find my greatest refreshment when I am in the company of women who aren't afraid to take off their masks and be real. It invites me to do the same. I find my greatest refreshment when I can stop being tense (aka crossing my legs like a lady) and I can sit back with my legs spread (like men get to do all the time). I find my greatest refreshment when I can look in the eyes of the people I am with and hear their silent affirmations of my being.

How about you? Who and what refreshes you?

Winter Time

(I'm writing this blog when I should be working on my 20 page Christology paper that is due tomorrow of which I have zero, yes I said zero, pages written)

Winter is here. It is official. And I hate it. With a passion. I know there is a reason and purpose for every season under heaven, but I have a hard time wrapping my brain around the bitter cold and bareness of winter. It reminds me of death. I fancy myself more of a life girl.

I went to DMV this morning. I put two hours on the meter because, well, I went to DMV this morning. To my surprise I spent all of 3.5 minutes in the DMV office. Not only was my visit short, but the clerk who waited on me was pleasant. For a moment I had to look around and make sure I was really at the DMV and not in a parallel universe.

I spent some good time with my mom this weekend. When I was growing up she never let me sleep-in or nap. In fact, she'd wake me up for phone calls. (Even calls from Courtney to talk about the same boy we'd talked about an hour before and were guaranteed to talk about an hour after.) But this weekend she cooked some good food (okay, great food), we watched movies, and she even let me sleep when out of nowhere my eyes could no longer stay open.

While talking about movies...we watched The Proposal. Another romantic comedy. I have a problem. I'm supposed to be laying off the the genre altogether, but I'm having a hard time getting clean. The sad thing is, I sometimes expect life to end like my favorite romantic comedy. I am usually (ok, always) sorely disappointed when that doesn't happen.

That brings me to where I started. The truth is I'm having a hard time writing this paper because I'm tired and disappointed and hating winter and feeling stuck. I know I won't stay here, but until I get up and out, if you know the words (and the worth) of prayer, I ask that you have a little talk with Jesus on my behalf.

It's Time...

Airport delays are the best time to catch up on stuff you've been neglecting. Here goes...

Last week I spoke with a good friend of mine who reminded me that it had been a while since I last blogged. "No time, huh?" she asked. "No time," I replied. That, I thought was going to be the title of my most recent entry, but alas, in the time between then and now much has transpired and I feel led not to lament over the lack of time I've had to blog (which has been filled with much living) but to talk about the present time. The now time. The God time. The Kairos time.

It's Time is the title of a mix that my best friend put together. Today, I am hearing it with new ears. My heart is open to receive it like never before. I've had a hard/heart time recently. She reminded me this morning as she ministered to me through a mix of hysterical tears and hysterical laughter that I have one week to mourn the place where I had been. If I am to operate in Kairos--God's perfect time--then I must be mindful of how my Chronos--ordinary time--is spent. It's time to get up. It's time to make it. It's time to have strength, courage, and wisdom. It's time to choose. It's time to let my tears dry on their own. It's time to for a new season. It's time to be ok. It's time to learn how to love. It's time.

It's time to get up. I don't know about you, but every once and a while I'll get so focused (or fixated) that I get stuck in it. I am rendered paralyzed. Immobile. And so, starting with the wiggling of my toes, I am moving up and on. Like the man whose friends were about to lower him through the roof to experience the healing power of Jesus, I am taking up my bed and walking.

It's time to make it. I may get stuck from time to time. I may even have brief bouts of laziness (and/or procrastination). But I've always been super ambitious. And so, whether spiritually, academically, vocationally, or relationally, it is time to make it. Time to dream big things, do big things, and see big things! It is time not to survive, but to thrive! It is time to inhale the inspiration of the Spirit and exhale those things that can breathe life into the lives of others.

It's time to have strength, courage, and wisdom. No longer will weakness, fear, and foolishness guide my steps or determine my direction in life--whether my own or someone else's. Truth is, I cannot get up or make it if I operate in fear, weakness and foolishness. I'm so glad that God has not given me a spirit of fear. I'm so glad that when I am weak that God's strength is perfect. I'm so glad that if and when I ask for wisdom, that God will grant it to me. Ahhh, I feel a sermon coming on!

It's time to choose. With 165 days left until graduation, it is time to make some choices about the next phase of life. Where should I be? New Jersey? New York? Nashville? Chicago? Atlanta? What should I be doing? More school? Work? Church? Community? Non-Profit? While it is time to choose, it is important to choose carefully? It is important to be connected to God, to have my ear to his heart, and to be guided by His will. Choosing without discerning the will of God is risky business. Trust me, I've been there. I've done some things that I clearly either heard "no" on or either heard nothing at all. Impatience got the best of me. But this time around, I will wait patiently for my time.

It's time to let my tears dry on their own. I wear my heart on my sleeve and my hurt in my tears. My father, if and when he sees my crying, attributes the tears to my mother's side of the family. He sees tears as a sign of weakness. But even Jesus wept. Tears are a sign of passion and compassion. Tears are cleansing. Tear are liquid prayers. These days I will not be ashamed and try to hide my tears or even dry my tears, but rather I will let them dry on their own. I may even leave the salt stains on my cheeks as a sign that I do feel and that I feel deeply. Better yet, I will let Jesus dry my tears and comfort my heart.

It's time to learn how to love. I am reminded that great love takes great risk. When you venture to live a life of love--eros and philia--there is indeed a great risk. Your feelings can be hurt. You can be left disappointed. Your heart can be broken. Your heart can be broken. But I realized this morning, the artist and hopeless romantic that I am, that I'd rather live a life of fictive hope than to live a life of hopelessness. Although both are dangerous, at least with fictive hope there is something to look forward to. And so, even though it is risky business, I am daring myself to live a life of love--love of God, love of self, and love of neighbor.

What time is it?