Summer Moon's

For the past several evenings I have been attempting to schedule a date with the Moon. As we near the beginning of Summer the Moonrise becomes later and later into the wee hours of the morning, which is far too late/early for me to be out alone, so each night I dread sleep because I'd rather be gazing at the miraculous glow of the Moon. Especially after such a beautiful Full Moon days ago. My love for the Moon began officially one quiet Summer in the 1990's (South Central, Los Angeles). I don't quite remember the details, but what I do remember,  I won't forget. I believe the Moon was Full and I was outside awaiting my laundry. I stood there looking at one of the biggest, brightest Moon's I've ever seen (that I can recall). I was in Love. I'd never felt that way about anything and I knew I wanted to have that feeling included in my life from that day forward. The bond I have with the Moon is indescribable; the love and admiration along with trust and safety. It means more than words can express...

I wrote before going to bed last night, as I continued writing I recalled another interaction which may have influenced this encounter some years later. 1992, my Grandmother and I moved; closer to other family members, it just so happened to be on my birthday that year which is why I think I'll always remember. The year was nice until April when Los Angeles experienced the riots following the Rodney King situation; I suppose during the adult conversations it was planned that my Grandmother, a couple of my cousin's and myself would take a vacation that Summer. We arrive in Alabama sometime between July and August, I know because this is when Mary J. Blige's "What's the 411?" was released along with a few TLC's songs in heavy rotation on BET and all of the other Summer shows targeted at my age group. I enjoyed meeting various family members and exploring the town. It was interesting for me because typically I'd be alone, since I was still an only child at this point. So the cousin's and I split off into age appropriate groups and did our own things. I was enjoying myself up until a night at the Community Center of sorts when some boys turned out the lights and chased us around the building; something I had never experienced up until then. I remember some boy touching me and I screamed, shortly after the lights were back on and I was ready to go. Not just from the center, but from Alabama and everything included. I completely shut down and didn't leave the house for a while; I didn't realize how obvious I was being that something was wrong even though I couldn't exactly express what I was upset about, that is until one of my cousin's who lived in Alabama made me get dressed and took me to a Community Swimming Pool. 

While there we met these two young men who I learned were complete gentlemen, we all hung out a lot during the Summer until it was almost time for me to return to California. I don't remember the details of that interaction, I just remember it being old fashioned and romantic, I remember walks and conversations; although I do not recall the words. And within it all I know that the Moon was shining down absorbing it all. It wasn't until this morning that I had a moment of a flashback as I never think of that Summer anymore. However now I somewhat understand what I feel lately, nostalgia. I feel as if I am longing for something I've experienced before; I just don't know all of the components or how it makes sense given my current mental health issues. I do know that this past month or so I have been obsessed with a few things, more than usual and I feel as if my Soul is trying to tell me something or perhaps share something with me that my natural eyes aren't able to see. I feel as if I want to explore, that is until the fear of uncertainty jumps in and takes my mind on a roller coaster of possibilities. I don't know why suddenly childhood memories are flooding my mind; then again I think I do. It all started late last year or early this year when I was inspired to begin my inner child work, something I had been avoiding since I learned the term.

I won't go into all of that now, I'd rather bask in the memory of those two Summer's and how they sparked Love in an otherwise frozen heart (lol, it's a long story). Nonetheless, those experiences left a lasting impression; leaving me now searching for a date and time when the Moon is cooperating at a respectable hour in the night's sky where I can sit under the stars and share my thoughts, feelings, dreams and desires and hear the whispers of my heart so I can know what I am feeling as well as this phase of what my Soul knows that I need to remember. Something about this Summer has me excited, in a good way; which I have not felt in Lord knows how long. In the meantime, I want to enjoy each moment the days bring and fall deeper in love with life. I am praying to maintain this mind state, to allow the optimism and lightheartedness of happiness to overtake me until it engulfs my mind, body and soul with the carefree feelings this time of year deserves.

Blessings 💗✨

Emptiness

"I've always been someone who looks 'too deep' into something or someone.  That's because I realized from a young age that there's always more than what meets the eye."

- unknown

It feels as if I've had several "mother's" in this lifetime; unfortunately, none of them were my own. I suppose aside from God I have no idea who to ask or the appropriate description of how it came to be, nevertheless I had to mature at an extremely young age. I don't remember much of a childhood, I recall brief flashbacks of sorts and some memories, but not the typical coming of age story movies are made of. Often times, especially since developing mental illnesses and being on a leave of absence from work I find myself feeling as if I've been an adult far longer than my actual age. While other times I feel like such a baby, constantly attending to my well-being; mind, body and soul, it seems as if that should be a way of life as we all are responsible for our wellness in all aspects of being, but something about my life now as opposed to how it was prior to these circumstances. At times I want to cry, however the thoughts following the feeling have no true meaning so the tears are blocked. Thats one thing I believe I've learned throughout many of my experiences in this life, which is to make sure to be thoughtful as well as do things with meaning. I have my reasons for this philosophy which I do not think I want to share at this time, but we'll see how the words comes together...

Some years are not as difficult as others, the most difficult part is I usually don't know how I'll feel about it until it is on the horizon; Mother's Day. I think this is the "holiday" I actually hate the most. As a child it was always a weird day, leading up to along with it's final hours, then Monday came and it was over; I've never loved Monday's, but the weekend of Mother's Day is the one time I've ever been happy for Monday to show up. Normally I keep these feelings to myself as not to shit on people who actually had a wonderful mother and all of the memories and heart-felt moments to show for it yet this year is different. I don't know what to do with these feelings or how to accurately identify them all, however I do know that I do not wish to dive too deep into it all. I awoke this morning in a strange mood; I was happy, had a good night's rest and felt motivated to run some errands before the day got away from me. Then I remembered the weekend and the "holiday" and instantly I felt some type of way, a way that hits me sporadically and oftentimes leaves me in tears. Today was different, this time my heart was touched in a way that I can not describe and the tears are on standby hoping for a release. Everything else is numb and at times my heart grows cold. I am exhausted! I am exhausted of being my own mother. Not in a sense of "I've become my mother" but in the literal sense of taking the responsibility of myself as my mother was supposed to. I feel as if I have had to take on that role since I was five years old and I am exhausted.

But mother's can't get exhausted, and even when they do they can't stop anything when the children are in need; right? So I tell my inner child to hold on to the tears because I have to (as usual) be the mother that I need for myself in order to survive the (what seems to be) never-ending curveballs life feels the need to throw these days. I want to cry, but the tears won't fill the emptiness nor will they wash away the bullshit so what meaning will they have? What do you do with them? More importantly, who understands? I think that's the thing... I rarely think of my mother when I think of a mother, not to shit on her, more because when I think of my mother, I think of myself. Eventually I took all of the things said to me and formed my own philosophies based on known intellectuals, studying them almost as an obsession then tailoring them to fit the person I envision myself to become. At times I feel as if I've missed the mark and in other moments I am surprised; I won't go into detail, but it's odd to see your life and where you've come from along with where you are and how you got there. Even more so when you see a future that looks impossible yet somewhere or somehow you trust or maybe believe is a better term, that the person you see yourself as will come to fruition. I read a quote that said:

"my growth came when I realized that I do not have to experience life the way I have been told to."

- unknown

I don't recall how old I was when I realized this to be true even though I would not read the above quote for many years after experiencing the sentiment. The roadblocks, pitfalls and detours of this life are always on my mind. Not compulsively, but in steady rotation. On occasion I'll ask myself why certain situations are occurring and I can usually retrace events which lead to the origin of a calamity. Then I'll think if at that time there were some other options which could have prevented what followed. I find myself at a crossroads, the hospitalization last month truly put some things in perspective and brought up some things for me to look into. I woke up this morning and I wrote, but from my phone and when I pressed a button everything written vanished, I took that as a moment to reflect and see if the desire to write would return and what words would form. My heart feels empty, not because of lack, but in a sense of a faucet overflowing with nothing to catch the excess so rather than being fulfilled it's just a mess. That's how I feel; robbed. And I don't know where or how to process the hurt especially when the one responsible doesn't care that it exists. How do you heal despite the circumstances? 

Wake me when Monday comes...