Joy for the Journey

Image from Madisonvillearts.com

I am a self-proclaimed late bloomer. This no longer bothers me because I have come to realize that many of the finer things in life take time to fully ripen...fruit, wine, cheese, just to name a few. I can admit that once upon a time I did not appreciate this slow development. I wanted things to happen NOW and would try everything in my power to speed the process.

Have you tasted a regular store bought tomato lately? What is that??? Rushed to maturity, picked before it's peak, forced to grow up too fast...lacks...lacks substance. That is kind of what aspects of my life began looking like whenever my impatience took the driver seat. My desire to arrive quickly, painlessly, effortlessly at a very specific destination caused me to miss the joy of the trip.

Several years ago, a very good friend of mine shared this story with me: She and her now husband were invited to a dinner party with several other couples. Cinnamon took center stage at this party..no really, the spice...Cinnamon!! Every dish served including the entree, contained this aphrodisiac, blood pressure regulating, spicy ingredient. Precious detail was taken from the table settings to the mood lighting to the party favor gifts by the gracious hostess. As this group savored the last morsels of the delectable meal, my friend jumped up and began clearing dishes. Upon seeing this, the hostess gently stops my friend. And with the slightest touch from the hostess' hand on my friends shoulder accompanied by a very sincere gaze she says "No honey, tonight we sit and enjoy each other's company. Tomorrow I will get the delicious pleasure of washing the champagne flutes one by one as I recall the memorable time we are experiencing right now"!

Whatsoever resonates in your heart at this moment...Live it fully!!!

Blessings for a prosperous Christmas Season!


Jodi

This Little Light of Mine...

Vintage Poster Prints

So, I have done some major slacking on my writing. I nearly choked when I noticed that my last posting was in September..Yikes!!!! Isn't it funny how something which brings us so much joy, gets lost in the shuffle of busy-ness!?
I discovered or rather uncovered something about myself since that last post. Oh, who am I kidding, I have probably had 2,765 Aha moments since September. I live in my head...analyzing..reanalyzing....what if'ing and picking things apart. Tired of spending brain power on how to combat this tendency, I learned to embrace it and came to the very sophisticated conclusion of..."that's just how I roll"! Funny or rather cliche as it seems, it took replacing a burnt out light bulb to get me to this point. Let me explain.
I lived nearly 4 months in partial light. 2 out of 3 of the sconce fixtures in my bedroom burned out on the same day. I asked my son to scale the armoire and attempt to replace the bulbs (the position of my furniture blocked the fixtures... somewhat). He could not or maybe he would not oblige me. So I accepted my partial darkness. Admittedly, this was a nuisance (at first) but, there is something about the human spirit which quickly learns to adjust. I learned to maneuver quite well with little light. Soon I even forgot I was in darkness. 

Image from Wall Paper Stock

A few weeks ago, while cleaning my bedroom, I pondered what would be my next life move. Should I plan a trip, prepare for my next promotion, return to a university for a Master's Degree, check my Facebook, search for my USB cord?...Oh just stop it already! Stay focused on the task at hand. And in the midst of this self-talk, I noticed a small metal folding chair in the corner of the room. Quickly, I grabbed the chair and two new light bulbs. I swapped the old for the new. And that was it. After months in the darkness, it suddenly became so easy so clear..or so clearly easy. Why did I not think of this before?
As I discarded that which was no longer useful, I chuckled at how simple it was to change. I opted to remain in darkness for months. I actually readjusted my lifestyle around the partial light. But now I see.
I realized something about myself during this "Let there be Light" moment. My inability to see manageable solutions often causes a paralysis. As my mind churns the ideas of planning a fabulous vacation or redecorating my room and if I can not develop a successful logical means of making it happen, I let it go. I don't completely let it go, I mean I tend to let it go in a place it on the back burner sort of way. Now, for anyone who truly knows me, they know that once I make up my mind, I move to action. It's the pre- once I make up my mind part that often leaves me at a standstill.

Colored Flames

Well, it no longer serves me to think this way. I choose to open myself up to possibilities. And even when it makes no real logical sense or I don't have everything or everyone all figured out, I will make some kind of move. I will trust myself more. I will continue to become all of myself by leaving behind unproductive thoughts. And even if I do not succeed at all to which I put my hands, I will remember that failure is only when I choose not to try again. Above all else, I will remember that it is my responsibility and privilege to allow my light to shine.
May you come to a brilliant understanding of your beauty and gifts. And may you use them wisely and generously.

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.

~Thoreau

Air France

Blessings and Peace,
Jodi

A Season of Change

I remember when we had a short cold spell in June, a few friends posted how they were waiting eagerly for the heat of Summer. I just don't get it. Why are you begging the sun to shine upon us at 110 degrees? What could possibly be pleasant about that? While I do love a sunny afternoon at the beach, a glass of cool lemonade on a hot summer day and alfresco dining under the setting sun, I consider myself more of an Autumn loving girl.

Boston Public Park

Cinnamon scented pine cones, Starbuck's pumpkin spiced lattes and cozy sweaters just fill my heart with glee. The rich color of egg plant and leather boots soothe my soul and somehow remind me that there is beautiful protection from the blustery winds. California residents don't quite get the change of seasons that many parts of our great country experience. But, that doesn't stop us from doning multi colored scarves and gloves like our sisters on the East Coast!

Lilly Therese

Besides great fall fashion and sumptuous comfort food, I love this season for it's spiritual implications. I am reminded of my first lesson on the Native American world view. I opted to take a class during my freshmen year at Berkeley which changed the way I think about life and death. My professor said that a Western approach looks at the world in a linear fashion. Starting point is life and the ending point is death. The Natives see life as circular. Life, death and rebirth all interconnected, all divine.

I often hear Spring celebrated as the season of change. The blooming of blossoms, budding flowers and pollinating bees illustrate newness. The manifestation of what was once dead now springing forth into life. I believe that Spring is all of this however, it can not be without death occuring first. There would have been no power in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ had He not willingly laid His life down first. See, it is all circular.

 So, the season is changing and Fall is at hand. We still have hot days but it is already getting darker earlier. Soon the leaves will turn colors and gracefully let go of their home on the branch and fall. They surrender to their new shades, surrender to the season. The foliage succumbs to the natural occurrence of change. Transitioning into a state of decomposition, otherwise known as rot. The study of this science is called Taphonomy from the Greek word taphos which means grave. According to Wikipedia this process happens in stages. Each part contributing to the breakdown of what once was. "The process is essential for new growth and development of living organisms because it recycles the finite matter...".

Four Seasons, same tree

The process is essential for new growth. This makes me think of all the times I become afraid to surrender to my moments. I often become stubborn in my attempt to keep control of a situation or even a person. I remember the times my feelings were hurt because someone or something did not follow the script I created for them. There is no ad libbing on the Jodi Show. Fear of disappointment has taught me to require a finalized rough draft from every player submitted solely for approval. My approval. And when these indviduals or circumstances played themselves out in a manner I disagreed with, I became more fervent in my effort to make them act right. How dare they not follow their lines!

Unfortunately, my lesson in all of this is simply to Let Go! I have wasted so much energy in my attempt to control. But most importantly, I missed life changing moments. I may have wanted the person to stay in an eternal state of Summer, fun and frolicking, carefree and easy. I didn't recognize their need to blossom or die to a habit, their need to break free from the role I created for them. Maybe it's not so much that I missed this but rather, I chose to ignore the signs of an approaching change of season.

I have also gritted my teeth and sank my nails into my own bad behaviors. Too many times of attracting the wrong men, post divorce, influenced me to hang onto my leaves of protection. The season is approaching. The Grimm Reaper is knocking. Will I fight to hang on to the walls I have so conveniently built or will I surrender to death. This Autumn, I have a choice to make. In order to regenerate, renew, restore myself and reap the benefits of new beginnings, I must allow the process of decomposition to run it's course. I must Fall. I must Let Go. The beautiful part of all of this release is I know that Spring will soon follow and I will reap rewards of a new beginning.

May you heart be enlarged to accept the end of a thing and surrender! ~Jodi

 Japanese Cherry Blossom

Incriminating

I've said this before and I will say it again, the need to blog just springs forth in me. I can be at a place, any place with anyone, anywhere, at any time and I actually feel it coming. A man who suffered from seizures once told me that he could feel the grand mal or petite mal coming so he would prepare himself by grabbing a wooden spoon or a wad of paper towels to stuff in his mouth right before the violent shaking began.

Blogging for me is a release, a violent shaking of all of the emotions, passions and fears which I attempt to keep neatly controlled during my non-writing life. Excuse me, I need to go back to a thought I had during the first paragraph. I was saying that the need to blog can come from ANY thing. It comes like the sound of a steam engine roaring in the distance. Or maybe better yet, like the little engine that could. That ANY thing could be a sentence in a book, a comment from a friend or a divine moment. As I was sitting with some really great friends tonight over dinner, I heard that choo choo train rolling in the distance. 

I get settled in at home, turn on the computer and log on to blogspot. All of a sudden, the word INCRIMINATING is shouting at me like the whistle on a train. What the?!? I write about my journey of love and romance. What does INCRIMINATING have to do with that, seriously? Talk about random!
Where can I get some insight on this? I know, let's consult good old reliable Merriam Webster. Adj. 1. incriminating - charging or suggestive of guilt or blame. Okay, so now I know what it means but, what does that have to do with my road to AMORE? Things that make you go hmmm!?!

There are those individuals who relish anonymity. Wikipedia defines that as "without a name, nameless". People choose to remain anonymous for various reasons. Some good and some not so good. I know what you are thinking..why did she jump from INCRIMINATING to anonymous (small case, no bold, no italics, insignificant, blend in the crowd, shall remain unimportant). Where is she going with this?

All board, the blog train is coming. As I write it starts to make more sense. Funny, I think the moon has lit the way (I paid homage to the moon a few minutes ago on Facebook and now it's paying me back with illumination). You don't want to miss this train. Ok, so people choose to remain anonymous for various reasons. Some are even afraid to write in a diary or a blog out of fear that some ill intentioned person may get a hold of all our secrets. God forbid people find out that we don't have it all together.

So, I have been scratching just a bit below the surface on this whole love thing. I haven't quite been anonymous  but, more like Jane Doe. You know I am a woman. You know that I am on a journey of self-actualization in regard to my romantic relationships. And if you didn't, you do now. But, tonight my writing will be more open. Take your seats ladies and gentlemen, the train is leaving the station.

Let's go back to paragraph 2, remember I was sitting at dinner with some really great friends? These individuals I have know for about 10 years or longer. They have known me married, divorced and single. They have cried with me, laughed with me and encouraged me to become the woman I am today. Yes, they have played a part in me....Becoming. I excused myself for a long minute during the "hey girl it's been so long" portion of our evening. Little did this group know that my spirit was a tad bit crushed this evening. Here they were telling me that I looked beautiful, how they appreciate my positivity and how much they love reading my FB posts and there I was....Becoming.

An internal war was taking place in the midst of margaritas, chips and salsa. I vascillated between becoming full of disappointment and becoming full of gratitude or simple acceptance or whatever other Eat, Pray Lovish emotion I can stir up. All of this taking place as I attempted to stay present and involved in the conversation. I trust this group and could have blurted out my discontentment. I can count on these women to nod their heads, smile and with the sincerity that only well seasoned friendships provide, offer an encouraging word. I chose to remain anonymous...to remain nameless, to blend in, to not be bold or italicized or underlined or "".

You see, I went on a date yesterday. Not just any date. But a date with someone who really sparked my interest (and as sad as this may sound, that's rare). I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I mean I really enjoyed myself and even while sitting there on that date, hoped for the best. And then tonight, over margaritas, chips and salsa with these lovely friends of mine, I received a message. Okay not a message but, THE Message. Graciously, my date informed me that he so enjoyed my company BUT, thought it best that we just BE...friends. Yes, those words stung for a bit. Not to worry dear friends, the blogging has helped. And not to mention the fact that this new found friend formerly known as my date, informed me that he had recently been doing some pruning of his negative friends which gave room to welcome me if I was interested. With my margarita by side and in the presence of witnesses (albeit unaware), I sent this text to him "Cheers to your gardening. Lucky me! And you! LOL!". I meant that with my whole heart.

I am free tonight because I am not afraid any longer of being INCRIMINATED. Let me explain. I used to live so guarded. Fearful, that someone would find out that I have moments when I ponder what is wrong with me. Aren't I lovable? Worthy of being chosen? Am I not capable of making a romantic relationship work? I would become annoyed by phrases like "his loss" because it's not just his loss. It was my loss too. And for all of the budding and full grown romantic relationships I have stopped and started, I couldn't help but wonder what I am missing. I am reminded of a scene in Grey's Anatomy which at times still haunts me. Meredith talking to Derek pleads "So pick me. Choose me. Love me"! But, this is not the Jodi I portray. I am so busy being busy. Filling up my days with events, dinners and activities because that is what I love, yes, but also, to drown out Dr. Grey's incessant plea. I mean my incessant plea.

But, there is a dichotomy. I have craftily mastered a pretty good life without a companion. I have spent time, energy and money developing a strong sense of self and have made empowering women my platform. But, I have used this like a funhouse mirror or a magician's illusion to trick the audience. Because at the end of the day, in the still of the night when the curtain is drawn, I wonder, who will choose me, pick me, love me. And of course since I have been married before and I am an equal rights advocate, I wonder who will I pick? Who will I choose? Who will I love.

Consider this self-incrimination. I am guilty as charged. Not guilty of desiring love. There is no crime in that. But rather, guilty of fooling myself into believing that I was fully content as I am. Now a bit weary from patching and re-patching my cape, I understand that I am not superwoman nor do I have the desire to be. The right companion in my life is necessary. Every hero needs a sidekick right? Maybe it was my grandmother's expressed concern that I will end up alone like her or, maybe it was meeting a man who shared so many of my common interest that made me declare to some girlfriends who met up to hear the scoop post-date, "I am so over myself. I am open and ready to receive the love that is meant for me. I no longer want to be alone". Oh and boy do I ever mean these words.

Here is what I am asking of you dear friend. Do not spend a second of your precious time worrying about my fears and revelations. I am blazing my trail on the road less traveled (that was for you Laurie). This whole thing is a mandatory part of my journey. My hope is that you expose the evidence in your own life. There will come a moment when your willingness to be honest about the secret things in your heart shared with the right person at the right time will absolutely transform your life..and theirs! Live freely and boldly for we have but brief opportunities to impact one another.

Once I informed my new friend formerly known as my date that I would accept his offer of friendship and thanked him for his honesty, he replied "good, I feel better Jodi :-)". So, I replied this,"I'm having a margarita so I hope to be feeling better soon too! I'd be pretending if I acted as if I'm cool like that. The women's libbers would lynch me for my honesty. Don't be a stranger". And yes, I meant it. Choose not to be anonymous or even Jane Doe in this life. Your life has meaning and purpose. Sometimes it may require some pruning to make room for the positive buds. Be free!

"I am a soldier of love...I know that love will come" ~Sade

The Beauty of Age

Americans are funny. We value youth and have very little use or respect for our elders. Now of course I am making a gross generalization but, it is true. We spend goo gobs of money on lotions and potions to revitalize, renew and restructure our physical selves. And unfortunately, maybe almost conveniently neglect developing our integrity, wisdom and grace.
The last few weekends, I have spent time with my grandmothers and great aunts. Listening, absorbing and relishing their presence. I am grateful to know them. And, I honor their strength, courage and grace. They know from whence they came and also look at the life they have left. They possess a natural beauty, giving hearts and resilient spirits. These women no longer make apologies or excuses. It is obvious from the look in their eyes and the confidence of their stance that they know a thing or two about living.
I usually write about my lessons on romantic love as I walk my journey. Well, this piece will be no different. I have come to understand that one of the most attractive characteristic a woman can have is her confidence. While I am fully aware that men are visual. I also believe the words of Sophia Loren "Sex appeal is 50% what you got and 50% what they think you got"! I have spent long enough self-deprecating.
Last week at our 36th Annual Family Picnic, I met a relative I never knew I had. At 71 years old, Geraldine, mother of 10, grandmother to 37 and great grandmother to 11 showed us younger women how to properly 2nd line. Think New Orleans, umbrellas, handkerchiefs and the band marching better yet dancing down the street. Oh, she has moves honey. There she was in all of her 71 years of glory, unashamedly, rhythmically moving to the most appropriate song "Do Whatcha Wanna"!

The following day, My Granny Rosemary turned 83 years old. As we sat and waited with her birthday candles lit, the whole family knew she must be reapplying her lipstick and combing her hair. Sure enough. Her sister, Robertine, turned to me and said "I think she would make the good Lord wait for her while she fixes herself up"!

Aunt Robertine also joined us from New Orleans. At the end of every picnic, we give individuals the opportunity to share anything they may be grateful for. She said that she was thankful, even though she lost everything in Katrina, she felt blessed.

I spent this past weekend with my Nana in San Diego. At 81, she is on a bowling league at the Navy base. She is my traveling partner and she is not lacking in suitors. She is hardworking. Cleaned her carpets on Friday. But, she also knows how to play hard. She received a visit from another Grandmother of mine, Dorothy Massengale. Grandma Massengale complained to Nana that her family "freaked out" when she ordered a drink while vacationing in Las Vegas. Nana swiftly replied, "do what I do. Tell them, I will respect your house by not drinking in it. But, in my own house and on vacation, I do what I please". You gotta love a woman who tells it like it is.

My reality check came when I was talking to Grandma Massengale. She began asking me about my love life. And then she says "Please don't be like me Jodi"! She told me with an unwavering sincerity "to live, to travel for pleasure's sake and to find real companionship with a nice gentleman". Even now while, I write this, I can recall the pleading tone in her voice.
I am in charge of my journey. I am in charge of opening myself enough to fully experience the people, places and events which will shape me into becoming bold and beautiful. In order for me to ensure that when I reach my 80's, I am full of life, is to really  start living. It is to face my fears, to challenge myself and to become free enough to do what I wanna! It makes me think back to one of my favorite lines from Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. "I was not rescued by a Prince. I was the administrator of my own rescue". Some people have a hard time digesting this line. But, I get it, and not as some new agey, mind freak thing. I have within me the power to create the life I envision for myself. If I don't like something, I can change it.
Tonight, one of my feminine role models passed away. Eloise Ford was 95 years old. She was the mother/grandmother of my friend Angela. She taught me the true meaning of taking care of a household and her man. And she always looked stylish doing it. Thank you Grandma for the seeds you planted.

A word for real men on mother's day eve?!

I spent a really grand evening with my family and very dear friend from work at John's Incredible Pizza Co. We laughed and ate and chatted and laughed and ate 'til our hearts' content. We parted ways strangely. She rejoined her daughter at the redemption booth and I found an empty seat at Deal or No Deal, no goodbyes. After several games, I decided to find a table for a cup of cappuccino. And there I sat. Alone. To the observer, I may have appeared to be just another woman sitting and occupying my time while my family busily swiped their Fun Cards over and over again. Yeah, that would have to be their thoughts because, who would come to a Family Fun Center ALONE? But, you see, I am not really alone because my loved ones are here somewhere. So, I am sitting by myself but I am not ALONE.

I wish I had the ability to shut down, power off, disconnect at will similar to my Sprint phone. But no, my mind seems to operate in one mode only...auto pilot. Figuring, calculating, connecting the dots, deciphering, developing, wishing and hoping for something that would transform....ME! A good friend says "girl, you are an Aquarius, embrace this part of you and run with it. Your mind works this way...accept it". All I know is this whole routine of "what am I supposed to be learning?" or "why did this person cross my path?" occasionally tires me out. Then there are those moments of thinking when 2+2 actually equals 4 and just like that, a new idea springs forth. Okay, well sometimes it's not a new idea but, things just begin to make sense. Let's go back to sitting for a moment.

In between sips of sweetened espresso and milk, the feeling of wanting to express myself in writing emerges slowly. It almost creeps up on me but, yet I know it's coming. Kind of like sitting on the sand watching the crescendo of waves rise and fall. It's rhythmic. I mean we all know how the waves roll in and out yet, the next one is as hypnotic as it's predecessor. Surrounded by noise, lights, John, company and incredible pizza, I go inward to find the pulse, the nerve center of this emotion. Wait for it, wait for it...Nope, got nothing. I get up a bit daunted. Guess, I'll just go locate my son.

I believe the most annoying part of these pizza and fun joints is the kajillion hours it takes for a kid to choose between a 2 inch slinky and an army man. Seriously?! My son looks over. I wave with a forced patient smile. No need to ruin his great night with my disdain for imbalanced reward systems. I pass the time with mobile web surfing. Hmmm, email from my dad entitled "A Good Time with My Father in Law". I'm reading, reading...no way...what's with the water works? Tears, now? Pull it together Jodi.

And so began yet another episode of...Jodi, Let's face your Wall(s). When I was about 12 years old, my bestie's dad told me that I must be really special because God gave me two dads who adore me. At the time, I was thinking..come on now man, I am the product of brokenness, dissolution and irreconcilable differences. If this is special it must be code word for misfit. I digress or maybe not. This email was written by my biological father who currently resides in the city of brotherly love. Well, he actually lives in a suburb outside of Philly but none of this really matters for the point of this story. I think?

My dad wrote of visiting his father in law who lives in a senior care facility. Apparently, my father visits every other month primarily to play jazz music and just sit with him. "My father in law is a special man.  He could have been a professional musician playing several instruments; but he chose to marry and raise a family. He grew up with Amad Jamal, Horace Parnham and several other world renowned musicians; but he chose to be a husband and a real man". 


Chose to be a husband and a real man, he wrote. Wow, now that's a powerful statement. I always assumed that the most gut wrenching part of my wall would require me to scale it. How could stones which have been sitting firmly planted as part of my foundation be easy to remove? It would be like choosing the bottom block in a Jenga tower, everything should just crumble. So for all of these years, I wondered when I would begin actually processing the shame I have carried since my girlhood. The shame of feeling abandoned. My dad and I have discussed this several times just in case my shedding light on this rather taboo subject makes you uncomfortable. Remember, this blog is part of my process in discovering and embracing my femininity. And because life does not exist in a vacuum, I could not successfully explore femininity without giving attention to masculinity.

I have beat the rejection and abandonment horses to death, revived them and beat them all over again. Tonight, I feel no need to expound on the circumstances nor the aftermath of such an experience at an early age. Call it Freudian or whatever you please but, lack of bonding with a particular parent will surely lead to the reading of at least one self help relationship book in a lifetime. Enough of the pondering the what ifs, finding fault and placing blame. Instead I choose to seek healing, restoration and balance by facing my wall(s). Funny how life works. In order for me to become truly free in my womanhood, I must honor manhood.

While, it would seem appropriate for me to write volumes on all of the wonderful ways of the beautiful, resourceful, brilliant women in my life, it is Mother's Day after all, I choose to write about my admiration of men. You see, writing about women requires very little effort on my part. I do not have to fight any fire breathing dragons or navigate through any motes to do that. It comes naturally. But, to express my respect and adoration of men requires courage.

My dad ended his email with the following sentence:
"Yes this is Mother's Day but right now I am sitting with a REAL MAN; I pray one day somebody will say that about me".

To my daddy: It is through tears that I write these words to you. For most of my life, I felt that something must be inherently wrong with me. Could I actually be unlovable? Carrying this wound with me like a ton of bricks, I subconsciously developed a strong contempt for men. While casually thumbing through a book today, I read that line (are you a woman who has contempt for men?) and it pierced me like a knife. Me, have contempt for men? So I looked up that word...yikes!!! It means the feeling or attitude of regarding something as inferior, base or worthless. scorn. Oh daddy, now it all makes sense. I could have waited until you went to meet your heavenly father to speak kind words about your life. But would I just be trying to convince myself and others that I was a good daughter? God is giving me a chance now to let you know how loved you truly are. I will not wait until you are in a senior care facility to let you know that yes, daddy, you are ABSOLUTELY A REAL MAN. I know in my heart that you did the best you could with what you knew. You never cease to amaze me with your diligence in keeping your family together. You always seem to know when to call to offer a word of encouragement or just to let me know I'm on your mind. You pray for your children, reach out to your brothers and honor your parents. You love your wife as yourself and call her blessed. Daddy, that's a real man. You have told me time and again how much you appreciate my other daddy for being a solid rock in my life and for loving me as his own. This is what real men do. Forgive me for the times when I may have shut you out physically or emotionally. I can only pray that my son grows into a Real Man just like my dads. Mr Bibawi was right daddy, I am special in only a way that another man would understand. I love you with all of my WHOLE heart. You are my hero.

Today, in this unguarded moment, I choose love over fear. Many people think that hate is the opposite of love. It is not. Recently, I was discussing this wall business with a friend. She told me that she feels like she is staring up at the Great Wall of China. This friend went on to say that she felt like she needed a plan to overcome this wall. To which I said, just maybe you don't need to Do anything maybe you just need to BE.

Ladies, may YOU be loving, be kind, be gentle, be nurturing, be respectful, be honest, be supportive, be yourself and be a soft place to fall for all of the Real Men in your lives.

Yes this is Mother's Day. And today I choose to honor all of the good men in my life!

Blessings,

Jodi

In an unguarded moment...

Unfortunately, I subconsciously began censoring myself in my last few posts and I can feel/tell/sense the difference. A very good friend of mine recently made her blog private and I struggled with deciding to do the same. Tossing the pros and cons over in my mind for several days, I concluded that God gave me a voice for a reason. No one else can feel/tell/sense my world as I do. It is therefore my right and my duty to share as I experience life around me. However, I also reserve the right at any moment to make this a "By Invitation Only" blog. If I so choose.

While listening to Elizabeth Gilbert's, Eat, Pray, Love on audiobook, I chuckled to myself. The author tells this story:

I walked into an office building one afternoon in a hurry, dashed into the waiting elevator. As I rushed in, I caught an unexpected glance of myself in a security mirror’s reflection. In that moment, my brain did an odd thing—it fired off this split-second message: “Hey! You know her! That’s a friend of yours!” And I actually ran forward toward my own reflection with a smile, ready to welcome that girl whose name I had lost but whose face was so familiar. In a flash instant of course, I realized my mistake and laughed in embarrassment at my almost doglike confusion over how a mirror works. But for some reason that incident comes to mind again tonight during my sadness in Rome, and I find myself writing this comforting reminder at the bottom of the page.

Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a FRIEND… 

I listened to this part of the CD over and over again until I could taste this moment. I saw myself there with her in that elevator occupying my neatly carved 3 feet of distance from any other human. It's funny how we have become as a society so full of contradictions, enigmas and fears yet longing to feel significant and understood. We may avoid all eye contact with our fellow elevator riders while Tweeting that we're in an elevator to our loyal "followers". Strange. We can communicate at the speed of light through electronic devices but rarely speak in passing. We have become guarded even almost fearful of each other and sadly of ourselves. Constantly connected to the world wide web yet completely disconnected. 

At the beginning of this year, some friends and I saw the romantic comedy It's Complicated. Some comedy, I cried...I mean from the depths of my soul, pit of my stomach, snot from my nose (sorry for the visual) no longer can see type of cry. What is going on with you Jodi? You should be laughing. And to make matters worse, I have no real clue why I'm crying. It's so bad that we're walking to the car AFTER the movie and I start crying again because I can feel something stirring  within but can not express it. By now my friends are looking at me like I am absolutely certifiable. But in that moment, I no longer care..I am completely unguarded. I am no longer  Ms. in control, update with the perfect quote, censor my blog Jodi. I am just...raw and real and hurting and frustrated and tired and through with it all. What all? Did I say all? Think I actually meant WALL...Yes, that's it. I am done with the Wall.


The wall metaphor needs no introduction as I can only assume that most of you are familiar with what I mean but, please bear with me as I bare my soul. Unguarded. My divorce left a gaping hole in my heart which over the past ten years I have covered with my relentless participation in self-help, fix-it, control freak and fearful behaviors. I became in charge of myself and my emotions. There was no task too great nor too small that I could not handle. My mission was to make sure that I kept the key to my heart safely tucked away least someone take me for granted again. Up went my guard and down went my chances to truly experience life as I should. 


In the midst of my Complicated tears, I got a phone call from a friend. I began sharing my woes and she told me to Google this certain book which led to two other books, which led to a blog on femininity which now has me writing this post after midnight on a Tuesday. Not even sleep deprivation can pull me away from sharing my heart at this moment. This new found knowledge is transforming the way I dress, talk, act and walk. The more I learn, the more I apply, the more free I become. Oh, how I love how all of this works.  I am becoming. And my once guarded heart is now slowly opening.. again. Am I scared? Um yes, scared of never blossoming into the woman I was created to be. Either the wall must come down or I'm scaling it. Staying prisoner is not an option.


I was visiting a friend recently and noticed some beautiful photos on the wall. Generations of a family on display for all who care to see. I mean really See. Black and whites, color, sepia, glossy and matte pictures spanning decades each a story within Their story. Standing in front of this living art, I thought of Alex Haley's quote "In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future". I became captivated by one photo in particular. I actually got a bit teary eyed; which this friend probably did not know until now. Unguarded remember. The photo is of their mother (from my perspective) even though her husband and two children are in the background. This picture is a black and white and must have been taken around the early 60's. It is the look, well more specifically the soul, within her eyes which mesmerized me. This woman completely owned her femininity...transparent, self assured, gracious, beautiful, strong and deeply rooted. She had life in her eyes. A quality few women will ever really know. And in that moment, I understood the power of giving and receiving love. I understood while standing in front of this photo in my friend's home why I could no longer walk around with a gaping hole in my heart. Liberating. This woman was treasured and confident in love and it showed. It reminded me of my own mother as captured by my good friend Fre.

I will never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, when I was about 16 years old, I had a similar experience to Elizabeth Gilbert. I remember feeling awkward, unattractive maybe like a typical teenager. While shopping with my mom and sisters at the mall, I saw this stunning young lady..so stunning in fact that I tried to get my family's attention so they could see her too. When I turned back, I realized I was looking at a mirrored column. Shocked, taken aback, and freaked out by this weird fact, I simply turned away and rejoined my family. About a month ago during an unguarded moment, I shared this story with my mom for the very first time. That same week I hosted a re-coming out party for a woman who decided to reclaim her femininity. She asked me for a mantra to help her build up the nerve to embrace her rediscovered self. I wrote the following on a card which she posted:


Never forget that once upon a time in an unguarded moment, you saw yourself as beautiful. Your challenge should you choose to accept is to: change your mind about yourself!

Love,
Jodi 

One man says....

Unknown male says:"girls always want a man to save them but who is going to save us ???? I don't need help im just sayin. Sometime a woman got to hold her own..i.n.d.e.p.e.n.d.e.n.t. do you know what I mean!!!!! Do for yourself...save yourself. Ok most women don't want to do anything with they life but sit and wait for a wealthy man to ride up in a white Benz to carry them to a better life and if you don't have that ....the point is independent woman is in style now broke girls........... fall back."

This is a snippet of a conversation my friend posted on one of my favorite Facebook pages "The Art of Being Feminine". Several women gave awesome responses. As I wrote mine I thought, this is a perfect blog post.

Unfortunately, we can't only blame the men but, also the women who continue to feed into this new modern world view. It seems that in all of our connectedness i.e. Facebook, Twittter, IM'ing, texting...better, stronger, quicker..we have become more disconnected, more lonely, more unaware of the power of the simplicity of companionship. So some of us become fiercely INDEPENDENT, the pursuers, the accepter of anything you have to give me as long as you give me some of you WOMEN. It is no wonder this has become the new mindset. As a people we have become afraid to have standards, morals and requirements because it could possibly mean we have to WAIT for that special someone. It is sad..this whole masculine woman and feminine man dance that continues to erode the quality of our relationships. This male you are speaking of 'A' has bought into this ideology and I guess why shouldn't he as this is "EASIER" for men...no work, no investment, no planting required. And for the women who accept this behaviour well it's like putting a band-aid on open heart surgery. The irony in it all is that it leads to more loneliness. Men who go through woman after woman, devouring yet never being full. Women who seem to have it all yet remain barren for love. These two people willingly, hungrily giving their bodies to each other with a speed that rivals light yet, never connecting..knowing each other yet never really KNOWING each other. Children are born from these flimsy unions and we are raising a new generation of non-committal boys and thirsty girls. Each longing for love yet never truly crossing paths.

"Good for you with your alpha male! I'm single again and hope to be as lucky as you darling!! Thanks for the response!! MWAH!!" (quote from 'A's' post)

So 'A', this weekend I was feeling a bit SINGLE. I even threw myself a Pity Party on Friday spending hours crying out to God seeking His infinite wisdom. Truly trying to understand what I am missing, I moved through my day sullen. I have learned to cope by continuing on despite the way I am feeling (as those things are so temporary...feelings). I went to a restaurant and to the movies alone. I even saw Last Song, Nicholas Sparks...yeah a LOVE STORY!!! I was weeping in the theatre and questioned a few times whether it was audible. I asked for a sign, something to alleviate this hole I was experiencing. Went to bed..no answer..no insight..no nothing!
But, this morning I read this post, 'B's' comment and your response and through writing my own response right now my soul has been soothed. Guess Joy truly does come in the morning. 'A' you need no luck my darling to attract your man (none of us do). You need only to continue to develop into the exquisitely simple, beautifully uncomplicated, decidedly feminine sweetheart that you already are. May blessings, favor and honor overtake you forevermore!!! Thank you all for being you!
♥ Jodi

 

Invite Me

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.~Anais Nin

So, I have read and reread this quote. Here I am staring at each letter, comma and pronoun trying to decipher its full meaning. Not wanting to infer more into the quote than Ms. Nin intended but, also not wanting to ignore the sentiment behind each character, I read it again.

1. "I, with deeper instinct..."-According to the online dictionary, the word instinct comes from the Latin word Instinctus which means Impulse. As I thought back to the beginning of some of my relationships, I can remember sitting across the table from a well intentioned potential suitor thinking, no he is not for me. That initial reaction was my natural gut feeling or impulse or instinct. It never failed that sometime during the course of dinner or coffee or the walk to my car, I would decidedly ignore the instinct and choose (I mean this literally) "hey, he's a nice guy, give 'em a chance". And then inevitably a month, 6 months or 1 year later, I look back over the hills and valleys of the relationship and cry out an "I told you so". When or where or from whom did I learn to just kinda go with the flow of my life. How easily I used to give up or give in because he said and did all of the right things or so I thought. 

2. "...choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent"; Wow! I have not crossed paths with too many women who are looking for this nor many men equipped to handle the job. When I first read this statement, I flinched at the idea of a man making enormous demands on me. What exactly does that mean? What would I be expected to do and become? I was really feeling like I can not in good faith mixed with the residue of past disappointments, consciously choose a man who makes enormous demands. But, then I read the quote again. This time, I saw beauty. The power I hold as a woman to choose a man who sees me. I mean really sees my strength, my courage and my toughness. A man who appreciates my life experiences and my opinions. How absolutely liberating...the thought of honoring my intuition by only giving my time and attention to a man who actually understands what it means to compel my strength. 

My strength, is an interesting little statement. So before I can celebrate the thought of choosing wisely, I must become fully aware and fully embrace this strength, courage and toughness. I must become very familiar with the core of me. Not too long ago, I truly believed that my strength came from the ability to maintain control. No way would I ever be in a position where I would allow someone, especially a man, to witness my vulnerability. No wonder these relationships were doomed to fail. I take responsibility in that I did not always allow the men in my past the opportunity to make an enormous demand on me. I approached these relationships with my guard intact like Roman battle gear. Swimming knee deep in equal amounts of self-pity and desperation, I became fearful of getting used or left or disappointed or rejected or disrespected. And I would remain in these varying degrees of partnerships until one or both of us left or disappointed or rejected or disrespected the other. And after several rounds of this dance, I grew weary. Maintaining control is a full time job!


Tired yet determined enough to seek answers, I began asking questions, seeking knowledge and desiring truth. In all of my asking, seeking, knocking, I happened upon a blog which in no uncertain terms, changed the course of my direction. I began studying the Art of Being Feminine. I am woman enough to admit that I had this whole male/female thing figured wrong! Instead of celebrating our differences and understanding that my power, my strength is rooted in my femininity, I became hell bent on doing it my way.

Please don't misunderstand, I am all for a woman handling her business by becoming self sufficient and self actualized. As matter of fact, growing into a well rounded and respected woman is not only your right but your responsibility. But somewhere along my journey of raising my son, a shift occured in my view of males. You see I USED to be a proud card carrying member of the Let's Empower Women By Emasculating The Men Society. I terminated my membership with that club once I had a revelation that I absolutely detest generalizations of any kind. All men are dogs. All men cheat. All men lie. All men are stupid. If my son is a male then one day he will grow into a man. And if everyone who grows into a man is a dog, cheats and lies then that would mean my son would be a lying' cheatin' dog. And once I rejected that idea, I made a choice from that day forward to evaluate each man individually based on the virtue of his character.

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.~Anais Nin

Therefore, I with this newly found appreciation, choose a man who compels, calls forth, invites my femininity. A man who makes enormous demands on me to be totally and completely my best self physically, spiritually and emotionally. A man who understands that demand is defined as 1. a requirement or need or 2. the state of being sought after according to the online dictionary. One who understands the power and necessity of pursuit.  A man who has faith in my courage and resilience to stand my ground and get the job done. A man who does not see me as naive or ignorant of what it takes to be a good woman of sound mind and judgement. A man who is wise enough to appreciate ALL OF MY softly powerful, modestly sexy and lovingly supportive WOMANLY SELF.

Lessons vs. Tools

When I first started on my path of enlightenment, I took great pride in wondering "now, what is the lesson in this experience, person, trial?". So through being in hot water, stuck between a rock and a hard place, livin' on a prayer and my back against the wall, I learned a lesson in patience, love, tolerance, faith and hope. Through having a large family, new friendships, graduating from Cal, my travels, being a single mother, and being attracted to different cultures, foods and languages, I learned a lesson in patience, love, tolerance, faith and hope. For years I would see the world through a lens which enabled me to find the silver lining no matter how ominous or glorious the cloud. I guess some would refer to this as being optimistic. A pretty important trait to possess if I might say so myself. My motto..there are no coincidences. Oh yeah, and we must not forget the role of my favorite word/lesson...Serendipity (an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident).

Lesson, something learned by study or experience as defined by the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. This was actually easy for me..the whole looking for the lesson in every situation. In a strange way, I became almost robotic with it. Using my optimism like some iPhone App. Believe me, I am not complaining about this. I will always see that proverbial glass as half full. But, on February 20, 2010, my world was turned topsy-turvy. My thought process was challenged. I was asked to stretch, rethink, go back to the drawing board, rewrite the script and change the lens. You know like the picture of the bunny and duck which sort of shift as you tilt your head. Same image, different perspective. I remember the date because I was sitting on the left hand side of the bed in one of the guest bedrooms at my sister girlfriend's house on a cul de sac in Northern California. Sister girlfriend was sitting at the end of the bed near my feet and my Road Dawg for life was sitting to my right. The room is filled with feminine energy and the bonds of sisterhood formed from shared experiences, memories and time.


Here, with these beautiful souls, I could be vulnerable, raw and real. You see, they cried with me during those moments when I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and they accompanied me back to Cal for the first time after 17 years just so I can buy a sweatshirt that says "Berkeley Alumni". As we were recapping our wonderful weekend, sister girlfriend says something to me which could be interpreted as "Jodi, you may just have to kiss a few more frogs". OMG, for really real? That's what my inner voice said as I rolled my eyes. I try to quickly reel in all that emotion so I cover it up by saying (this is not verbatim mind you more like a grossly negligent paraphrase) "Okay, so what could possibly be my lesson in kissing more frogs"? As I say this, I was sitting on the left hand side of this bed literally racking my brain trying to figure out what grand qualities I would acquire through these experiences. So I say that, to my little self-help squad..."what is the lesson in that"? That's when sister girlfriend lays a bombshell on me!

"Jodi, the frogs aren't lessons honey they are tools"! The record scratches. Pump the brakes. Back it on up. Or as Arnold would say "What 'chu talkin' 'bout Willis?". She advises me to change my perspective. In order to see them as tools, I have to change my position. Now let me clarify for you. I understood immediately because I know the heart of sister girl. She did not mean for me to use people but rather to absolutely have fun with my femininty. She was referring to the meaning of tool which closely resembles the word "implement" (noun not verb). Here is a quick lesson..a tool is defined as something that helps gain an end. An implement, more specifically, suggests a device designed for a specific job that may require some skill on the users part. Well, this just changes everything. After much thought, I realized that I just became empowered. I am in the driver's seat. So as not to disappoint, the lesson is that I am to use all of my head knowledge (the books and blogs presented in my last post) and apply them. How liberating is this?!

"I mean I didn't even know frogs had lips. How 'bout a nice firm handshake?"
~ Princess Tiana

Ooh La La....Red nail polish!

While "picking my color" at ProfessioNail, a customer approaches me and strikes up a bit of a conversation....

Woman: Oh this is a lovely color (showing me a mauvy pink)!
Me: Yes it is but I am leaning towards red today...It's so glamorous..sort of old Hollywood!
Woman: Well personally, I have always thought Marilyn Monroe to be a bit brassy!

Me: Um, yes she was (with a wink and a smile)as I pick up Vodka and Caviar by OPI! 

It's been awhile since my last post. I have been traveling. This trip was sort of spontaneous. It just kind of came about. I saw a romantic comedy (It's Complicated) which left me in a teary eyed blubbery mess. I needed some guidance. My sister-girlfriend called me and immediately asked "what's going on with you girl?". I share my heart. She tells me of a friend who read something somewhere about the love secrets of French Women. Sister girl couldn't remember all of the particulars but advised me to find it. I did. This trip has changed me and my life will never be the same. 

Serendipity (fortunate accident) occurred. Google is amazing. One search lead to another and nothing short of a revolution has taken place. The following has reshaped my womanhood:

theartofbeingfeminine.blogspot.com/  

www.jamiecatcallan.com , author of French Women Don't Sleep Alone

 

Intriguing, captivating and oh so feminine. Several weeks ago, I considered making my blog private. I shared with a good friend of mine considering the same thing that she had too much to offer the world to make her writings private. Since then, I have learned some things. I respect her choice. I have chosen not to hide. There is a delicate balance between sharing your heart and protecting yourself.

When I started this posting I expected to go in a totally different direction....so I will end with some seemingly random items. Believe me they are not!

There is so much pressure on American women to be happy. To sweep away all traces of loneliness, to forget who you are in your search for a lover or a spouse. In France young girls learn that happiness is elusive; we learn that happiness is less important than passion. ~ Debra Ollivier

Juliette Binoche

"As girls we Americans sit in our fields of daisies and pull off petals with, " He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not".  Meanwhile, French girls sit in their Meadows with their marguerites and pulls off petals with: "He loves a little. A lot. Passionately. Madly. Not at all."" ~Debra Ollivier

Courtesy of Gasoline Alley

"It is here, in the realm of relationship, that women receive the most joy and the profoundest sorrows. The friendships of women inhabit a terrain of great mystery… Although often quoted in weddings, Ruth was speaking to a woman when she said, "Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God" (Ruth 1:16). There is a fierce jealousy, a fiery devotion, and a great loyalty between women friends. Our friendships flow in the deep waters of the heart where God dwells and transformation takes place. It is here in this holy place, that a woman can partner with God in impacting another and be impacted by another for lasting good. It is here that she can mother, nurture, encourage, and call forth life." ~Captivating John and Stasi Eldredge

 

Most messages for men ultimately fail. The reason is simple. They ignore what is deep and true to a man’s heart, his real passions, and simply try to shape him up through various forms of pressure.~ John Eldredge

 

Dita Von Teese

Out of the mouth of babes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvDaJaU5My4 (Unfortunately Sony has removed Sade's Soldier of Love Video for now as the album is not yet released ). The lyrics are powerful. Do Enjoy the song!



     I am in the process of being deprogrammed. Everything I thought I knew about men, romance and relationships was totally, utterly and completely wrong...

When my son was about 7 years old, he attempted to "school" me on what men want. Seriously though. Being a 31 year old divorced single mom, I quickly discounted the well-intentioned advice he so eagerly shared. What could he possibly know?

So the story goes like this-I was excitedly packing outfits to wear on my premier cruise. I pulled a few items from my closet and prepared to do a one woman fashion show. My son was in the bath tub playing with his Power Rangers. First outfit, I stroll into the bathroom to check my image in the mirror. My son glances up quickly and then continues to play with his toys. Turn to the left and to the right. Try on three different pairs of shoes. Okay, this will do. Outfit number two, mirror check complete, my son raised one eyebrow a la The Rock (Dwayne Johnson) fashion. What was all of that? Oh well, it's late and I have to get packed. By my fifth appearance on the cat walk, he says very sternly "MOM"!

"Not now honey, mommy is very busy. Time to get out of that tub already".  It got really quiet in that room. I turned to look into my son's big brown eyes and my heart softened just a bit. "What is it honey?" He softly says, "Mom, I just don't want to say it because it might hurt your feelings." So I reassure my boy that he can discuss anything with me. My baby, my seven (7) year old male child then says "Momma, what I'm trying to tell you is that you DON'T know how to dress to get a man"!

It took a few moments for my mind to wrap around this whole scene. I thought my ears had surely deceived me. So, I asked my boy to repeat himself. And sure enough, that 7 year old broke it down. And this is what he said...

• Men care about what you wear. They like women to look pretty and be like a girl.
• You should wear your hair down more often
• Don't wear too much make up
• Pick better shoes to wear

I can honestly say that I started laughing out loud from my gut. At this period in my life, I was so far removed from being worried about what men want. I was on the fast track to independence. I was just starting a new love affair with traveling. I lived in my own space. Paid bills when I wanted and could come and go as I pleased. This was my world. I packed what I wanted.
As to not to offend my son, I politely thanked him for his advice while mentally moving that list to the recycle bin icon in my mind.

A month later, we were visiting my dad in Philadelphia. We were invited to a catered brunch at the Omega House (African-American Fraternity). As we walked in, I could not help but notice the number of rather attractive men at this function. My son gets his plate, sits down at the table and then it happens. I wanted to crawl under the table however, decided that would probably bring more attention to myself. In between bites he yells "Mom, maybe you can find a husband in this room. There sure are a lot of guys in suits here"! OMG...for really real! I just put my head down shaking it slowly from side to side in disbelief. From the outburst of laughter at our table, I assumed everyone heard. But, he just could not stop there..could he? Funny what a responsive audience will do for the ego. He added..

"I am going to start a lemonade stand and with  the money I make, I am going to buy my Mom new shoes so she can get a man"! Mortified is not strong enough word to describe what I felt at that moment.

Fast foward 7 years and I can finally acknowledge that my son was on to something. I have spent the last ten years traveling, hanging with my girls, dating, starting and stopping relationships and raising my son. I grew fiercely independent subconsciously promising myself that I will never be vulnerable enough to be hurt again in love. I built walls of protection around my heart. Not fully understanding that those same walls blocked the good as well.

Yes, much of my independence developed out of necessity, however it did not start that way. I allowed seeds of negativity towards men to germinate. On the outside, I was pleasant enough practicing the whole treat others as you want to be treated. But, inside I was a mess. And as I attempted to grow relationships it was as if an invisible wall prevented me from doing so.

I am fully aware now, desiring liberation from the ties that bind. I confessed to a confidante recently that I have been divorced for nearly ten years and just realized that it was truly by my own choice that I remained single.

I have become a student again. When you are ready to learn the lessons, the teachers really do appear. I am listening, expanding, purging, welcoming and trusting. I am becoming that woman who cares.

Vulnerability...capable of being physically or emotionally wounded

Normally, my need to blog will come from some inspired word or deed. Today, feels a bit different. I am not writing from some place where the lesson has been learned and neatly compressed into a colorful display of paragraphs. I am in the passenger seat tonight so let's see where this goes.

I have resumed my workout this month. I am so focused on becoming whole that I so don't care who sees me in my bathing suit as I move from the locker room to the pool. I pay no mind to the other swimmers in the lanes next to me or the group of men chatting loudly in the spa. My determination to create a healthy self overrides my fear of exposure and my need to hide my unfit self. My vision of what I want supercedes my need to be in control of other's opinions, perceptions and judgements.

Yes, I want it that bad!

Vulnerability is an interesting word. A noun. Just thinking about it gives me a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. Somewhere along my life's time line, I grabbed hold of the reins, white knuckled it and threw caution to the wind. Determining (I assume) that life is much better relying on myself. I am in control in the driver's seat. Miss Independent! So yea, I'm the driver, the trip planner, the navigator, the cost estimator, gas purchaser, window washer, tire pressure checker and dialer to AAA (or my brother) when I get a flat. As the driver I am in control..but, of what??

There is a strength in vulnerability. "You know what..I am just gonna move from the driver seat to the passenger seat now" I say to my friend Veronica last week. SHOCKING!!!! Scary, um no more like TERRIFYING!!! But, I have reached a point where my need to control is no longer a need. My desire to release the steering wheel, slide over to the passenger side like those girls in the old movies and simply enjoy the ride cancels my need to run things. Being vulnerable is not a bad thing. Yes, I am capable of being wounded but, I am also opening myself to experiencing an incredible blessing. Imagine the view from the passenger side. No need to check the rear view, put on the blinkers or monitor the gas gauge. Top down, feet on the dash, hair in the wind, hand out the window singing an old 'Retha Franklin song.

Puts a smile on my face....With the all of the possibilities and capabilities of being wounded, I just sit back and enjoy the ride...and the company!