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.