Intimately Worded with Michelle

Category: Impact

  • Letting go….

    It is okay. To let go of what you wanted to happen. There is so much more when you do.

    I ask that you not lose focus in wanting to want….all will happen in ways greater than you wished.

    When the most difficult is happening deal with your now, do not push away; it all is preparing you for your future.

    My wish is that we remain hopeful in disappointment, heartbreak and in our sacrifices,…you are so worthy and deserving and if “they”, if none see that, if none recognize your You

    Well my dear you push forward ever so expectantly. Your strength has guided you this far and frankly you cannot be stopped. I believe in you. I believe in us….we who despite it all Hope.

    Let go so that more comes. Be ever so proud of how far you have come.

     There’s more.

    A.Michelle!

  • You are beautiful

     

    I have this intrinsic viewpoint of myself. I believe it to be more humble than critical, an innocent naiveté. I speak and communicate with strangers yet it still blows my mind when others want to be a part of my world. All right, I rip myself apart. You do too. I am friendly enough, very independent and make my own way but not at the expense of others.

    I have been teaching for the last three months. I have prepared myself so that I will not fall in love with these teenagers. My expectation when transitioning to teaching was and is to gain their respect not to be their friend nor to gain love. My big picture is to finish graduate school, pass the exam and achieve licensure as a counselor. I am a year and half away from the complete process.

    I enter the teaching field based on a suggestion, good advice, a solid “to do” until graduate school is completed. My wall is up, my heart guarded and my emotions are in check. I want you to know these children, these teens that are deemed “at-risk”, who are less than respectful, that are mean, they are hurtful and hurting….they come find me now. They seek me out. The ones I have had removed from the classroom. The same ones who call me names, the ones who walk out of the classroom, and the ones who have fought one another in front of me…..they purposely come find me in this huge school. It is a new semester and I have a free fourth block every other day. It is my planning period. I expect them to ask me for something or to do something and I hear, “We don’t want anything. We miss you. You mind if we sit in here with you?” I breathe, we sit, and they talk. My heart melts….I have no clue why they want to be here with me. The children that are expelled….referred over to alternative school they search for little ole me. They come in between classes to speak, to give a hug, to smile and just to let me know they made it to school. It truly amazes me.

    I have teen females telling me their troubles. How being girls in their household leads to violent acts, how they are touched inappropriately and how, “Mom has had three different boyfriends. She is pregnant now.” They tell me how being gay and sexually active at 14 years old is, “what I know. I know how men are. I see what my mom goes through. How she takes his side. How she did not come out her room when he was beating me. She threw me out. I mean I’m back now and he is gone.” Her head down and my response: “Our children should come first.” Her: “We should.” I just hug her because I do not know what else to do. I want to bring her home with me. Not just her, all of them. Oh how my heart aches for they go right back into the same environment.

    As a counselor, as a mother I know how to do this. As a teacher, I am amazed, blindsided, lost, and heartbroken. I have so many questions. This hurt, their hurt is on a grand scale and it is a lot of them. Her story is not new to me and her story has happened to so many of them in this school. I completed an essay and had an open discussion with my professor. I ask, “Why do they share with me? I do not know them. They are students not necessarily mine. I just got there.” Her response: “You are trusting. That is what they see. You’ll figure out what to do.”

    While I am trying to figure out the best way to aid, help, assist who I am does not stop becoming, does not stop progressing. My soul stretches. The gray hair multiplies before my next salon appointment. I tend to wear my glasses more than my contacts. (I think they hide my crying, red eyes better.) I do not see any increased worry lines. I still manage to smile. I have to. I love on my children even the more. I am ever so grateful for my parents, my family and my extended family.

    Wednesday of this week, I am waiting in the line at the grocery store talking with my Brutus, my youngest son. An older woman walks up to me: “I love your hair. I absolutely love it. You know we spend so much money on our hair. I know you not spending $300.00 on this and it is beautiful. Do not change. God has blessed us as a people with so much and we try our best to make it into something else. I have dreads and people do not even do that naturally anymore. We so quick to hop away from us. This is what I love to see. I am not going to stop at your hair. I looked at your skirt, beautiful. Your shoes, beautiful. You are doing it and doing it divinely. I had to come and speak to you. I watched you talk to your son. You, your you is just beautiful. Keep it up. Don’t change!” I thank her tremendously. Yet, I still wonder why she and others open up to me. I tell my daughter the conversation and I ask her, “Women will compliment me quicker than men. This woman compliments me and I turn heads but not one man spoke to me. Why is that?” My Autumn, (she is 12) hunches her shoulders: “She is right. You are attractive Momma. Maybe men see more and are intimidated.” My resolve, she is watching me too.

    We reflect what we want to portray yet it is what others see that is /will be our greatest impact. Continue to believe more of who you are rather than in what you are trying to do. God has this God-way of making it all work for our good. Your efforts will impact, direct lives to overcome, have others stand strong, motivate change and encourage others not to quit.Be beautiful in every way. Let them see you, your beautiful you.

    Light the way,

    A.Michelle!

  • Carved New Horizons, Opened Doors

     

     

    angelou
    Dr. Maya Angelou                                   April 18, 1928-May 28, 2014

     

     

    Cooper
    J. California  Cooper         November 10, 1931- September 20, 2014

     

    Nikki
    Nikki Giovanni               June   7, 1943

     

    Toni M
    Toni   Morrison                                                                                       February 18, 1931

     

    images
    Gwendolyn  Brooks                           June 7, 1917-                 December 3,2000
    octavia-butler-photo
    Octavia Butler                                             June 22,1947 -February 24, 2006

    Black Women Authors expanded, continue to expand my  world.

    The authors shown above are my favorite. Hopefully, if you haven’t read their work you will make time to do so. Wondrous works.

                                            Black Women Authors, Writers….

    They mend our souls over so many obstacles, over so many other things, for so many years. Soul-reachers. Soul-Soothers. Confidence makers. Our next-phase- encouragers. Hope-pushers for the discouraged. Dream creators.

                                     Girl. Teen. Lady. Woman. Queen. Wisdom.

                                                             We are royalty. 

    Our “I am” Warrioresses….we know how to hold on, we know how to let go, how to breathe…with their words. Words grouped into stories, poetry, truth fabricated to educate, enhance, imagine, explore, to start, to stop and to begin again, to finish.

    Soul-reveal reads! They are our forever writers. Ase Ase.

    Celebrate Herstory. We are amazing by choice!

    A. Michelle

     

     

  • Broken Relationships

    Dysfunctional moments have the possibility to lead to decisions that will set us on paths unintended. How we treat each other, love each other is one of the greatest gifts we give. It is priceless. Yet, everyone one of us has someone we will not talk to nor deal with due to personal and private issues.

    Healing begins when we are able to let go. Letting go of the guilt, the anger, the remorse as well as the mindful playbacks of what ifs. Concerns about what could have been are mere distractions that can keep you unfocused on what is ahead. Apologize if the desire is there but prepare yourself—your readiness, your act of kindness has the potential of non- reciprocation.

    Life gives so many challenges. The opportunities of having more are multi in number. Continue doing what is right. When we take the necessary steps often times that is when the unpredictable happens. Our hearts mend with the intent to move forward.

    If we allow it, Life will cater to our pain—to the perceptions we have of others and ourselves. Friendships stale, our versions of love and being love can deteriorate. We bury our emotions; we skip over life lessons and expect resounding forgiveness from those our actions destroy.

    What I love about forgiveness is the two-way of it. Forgiveness removes the fault lines, those consequences of failed hope without a trace of residue. Do not push away, do not shut down on the things that matter the most. Matters of the heart are genuine steps to all you wish for; remain expectant in God’s better. Think of it this way….broken relationships are broken at times for new growth. Brokenness is not an ongoing exit for guilt, shame, arguments and doubt. Move forward.

    Love as our Creator commands. Forgiveness is counterintuitive to love. Forgive because it betters you. Let God do the rest. I worry less when I trust God more. My heart has taken its share of bruises; my soul wounds have been many yet trust God I do. This time of my life, this winter season has been the warmest ever.

     You have what you want in this life; make it work!

    Happy kisses,

    A. Michelle!

     

  • Secret Admirers

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    A memory…flowers didn’t arrive at my home but one day while away from the office for lunch my desk held a delivery. A  gift basket containing body crèmes, spray mist and soaps. The card read: “You deserve the best. I am willing to be that for you.” No name. I became frightened. I think, trying to figure out who it could be. I smiled slightly. My stomach danced with butterflies. I went back to work. I worried. I called my fiancée, knowing he didn’t send it. I didn’t tell him about the gift basket.

    Later,  I opened the gift and the smell of the body crème was divine, rare, expensive. A scent I never smelled before. I definitely knew my fiancée didn’t send it. Very nervous, I didn’t take it home. I kept it at the office. My co-workers questioned me, wanting to know who sent it. They loved the smell of it. So did I. It wasn’t loud like perfumes tend to be. The scent was comforting, cozy, light, delicious…lingering. I didn’t go around asking questions I honestly didn’t know who sent it. Who could this person be? To know what to buy me, to cater to such a specific scent, a person I knew nothing about.

    He approached me the following day. A co-worker. A nice guy. He was quiet. I thanked him. I told him I didn’t cheat. He responded: “I wasn’t asking you to. I want more than that.” He walks away. I have no words. I am so confused because I never gave any reason for him to like me. I was engaged. He watched. I smiled. We never spoke again. At this time, this writing prompt #Secret Admirers, I think of him. I smile. I can’t remember his name nor his face. Older, wiser, love abused and misused I appreciate him. What an authentic, original way to initiate, create and pursue a possible love interest.  A scent so rare so indescribable…eighteen years later and I have not forgotten about it. No butterflies, no longer frightened but the risk to have more, to have what he wanted in me remains. I have never experienced the smell of that fragrance again. I cannot find it. Secret admirers: they give us more than maybes or possibilities; they have the ability to ignite an undeveloped want into a future standard.

    Wondering,

    A. Michelle!

     

     

  • Humility, a lesson by Bru

    2014-11-09 19.13.18

    I purchased a footstool when my older sons left home. I am exactly 5 feet tall—plenty opportunities for my children to joke me. Oh how Damien and Darius loved to purposely place the salt and pepper shakers or any cooking ingredients on the second shelf out of my reach. Of course, they would laugh and chuckle while I fussed.

    My footstool has become a point of argument for Brutus and I. He believes it is his toy, the family “what-not”. I get frustrated because when I need it I can never find it. Our first argument, I told him how it would be and his sarcastic retort was, “Its for everybody.” So I hid it in my closet out of view.

    Thursday morning, after everyone is at school, I decide to try a protein smoothie. I am blending blueberries, bananas, walnuts and I want to use just a little bit of honey. I think I see the honey way back in the back of the cabinet. I can’t reach it. I’ll just go get my footstool. It’s not in my closet, nor in the pantry. I search every room in the house and I can’t find it. So now I am mad. No longer do I really want the smoothie. Every time I try to be healthy, do something for me these little people move what is required or  it magically disappears. I’m a routine person. I know where I put my stuff. If I don’t move it, it should be right where I left it. I’m so mad I have already played out the conversation I am going to have with Brutus when he returns home.

    He is home. We talk about school. He had a great day. Me: “Bru where is my footstool? I looked for it everywhere.” He runs happily into my bedroom. Bru: “You didn’t look on my side of your bed, did you?” He hands me the footstool. (I’m still mad but hiding it.) Me: “Its my footstool. I couldn’t reach something earlier today and I needed it.” Bru: “The footstool is for everybody. Its not just yours. I keep telling you that.” Me: “It is mine. It is not a toy. Again, it is mine. If you are going to use it just put it back where I can find it.” Bru, big sigh “Momma it is the pattern of life for me to want what you have.” He pauses: “This conversation is over because I don’t know what I am saying right now. I don’t know where it came from.” He has this strange look on his face and jumps off the footstool and begins his homework. I am dumbfounded. He’s eight years old. I remain in the kitchen.

    Me: “Bru do you think you are different?”  Bru: “Yes, but only because I tell you I love you every day and all the time. I don’t think other kids do that. Why?” Me: “Just wondering.”

    What do you do with that? “….it is the pattern of life for me to want what you have.”  I didn’t take his statement as an envy or jealous emotion.  I am pointing out my selfish wants for the footstool. He is  pointing out the value in having the footstool. “It’s for everybody.” I am the Psych grad; the graduate student. I’m Momma.

    My children have this astonishing strength of faith, they always have. I don’t mess with it; I let it be but man they scare the heck outta me. At times I wonder why God has me as their protector, their mother, in this role. I tell Autumn what Bru says, she laughs. I ask Autumn: “How am I suppose to take care of you two, alone?” Autumn, shrugs her shoulders: “You’re doing it. You have been doing it.” She continues her homework. Brutus plays with his legos.  Well, I just send up a silent prayer for strength, wisdom and continue reading my book.

    The smoothie wasn’t nasty without honey. I drank it….go me! No sugar. At this moment the footstool is in the pantry. Grateful, I am learning from two of the four greatest gifts God has ever blessed me with.

    Image result for humility quotes

    Let go of the distractions. At times the lessons are right in front of you.

    their Mom,

    ~A. Michelle

  • Sunday Brunch…..the Sabbath

    Sunday BrunchI am sitting here thinking about my Church life, my pastor and my parents. My pastor is due to retire next year….I am sadden, happy, proud and grateful for him and his wife. His leadership is more than phenomenal. He is 76 years old and still preaches two services every Sunday. I have never had to call him for anything personal, never had to reach out to him outside of the Church. Yet, he and his wife know my name. No one knew me personally at the Church, yet when I joined six years ago it was him and his wife that were standing up for me (as my family)…..it felt like home. So many Waxhaw, Momma & Daddy feelings, flashbacks at that time.
    Today, after Church I am standing and talking with a friend. She is telling me of her troubles with her daughter who is in college. We talk how it is a growth experience for the parent and the child. College is difficult. Parenting a child away from home is difficult. Our pastor is making his way towards us, shaking hands and speaking. He says to her, “Tell her we sent her to college to get a degree not a dude.” Oh how we laughed. She told him to call her, talk to her. He said he would and writes down her number… “I will call her and give her some communion. You know when you take communion it is sacred. Imma speak  some sacredness in her life.” We laughed, she thanked him. Immediately, the mother relaxed, confident he would carry out what he said. She is a single mother; a weight within itself and he lifted that weight with a promise to call. His leadership does so much more than the eye can see.
     I have never felt the need to ask my pastor for anything outside of church—-I gained what I needed, the prayers, the advice, the structure, the teaching, weekly in his sermons, any church activity–even when he attended the basketball games. But I don’t think I would have been able to appreciate any of it; Sunday, the Sabbath, friendships, opportunities of serving, loving thy neighbor, worshipping, Church without my parents, my family. The circle of life…..I don’t know why I am thinking about my daddy so much today but it is good. We are where we are, intentionally, spiritually.
    Be found loving,
    A. Michelle!
    P.S. Nap times are crucial on Sundays. Smile, take one. It is a national requirement.