Intimately Worded with Michelle

Category: Life situations

  • Seasons of Change

    ​Our stories are written, predestined. When we believe and begin to live in our story the Universe unveils itself. As we live, we recommit to being the people He purposes us to be. Two thousand fifteen has been exhilarating, excruciating, full of loss and of redemptive hope and perseverance. I have cried more this year due to changes. Major changes within my life and within myself. I have gained clarity and confidence in the bleakest of times. I pride myself on living my life by putting one front in front of the other. I keep moving and I keep pushing. So when it was time to sit, to rest, to heal I had no clue how.

    ​A time to heal: ​The physical things that ma​k​e me feel whole, feel ​feminine​ were surgically removed due to years of pain. ​My hysterectomy was ​something​ that shook my core​, my psyche​. ​I had become so accustomed to the pain that not experiencing it anymore was a difficult adjustment. I have this Michelle habit of being independent to the point it can be quite unhealthy emotionally, physically and spiritual. So my recovery took a little longer than I wanted it to be.

    A time to mourn: ​​A week after returning to work ​I lost my job of fifteen years. ​ Mind-blowing to say the least.  I have worked since I was 15 years old. ​Yet, I was able to be home when my children returned from school. Treasured time! I made new friends within my Church. People prayed for me. I realized that although I believe I’m on my own well I’m not. My family, friends and sisters will not let me be.  I lost my job but I have gained so much. ​God directs me so much better than I do Him. I’m listening without questioning. His leadership qualifications are pretty good. (smiling) ​
    ​A time to dance: I ​will begin a new career  that frightens me yet I am happy. God makes a way. Regardless, of how much we don’t want to and how much we struggle with what we fear the most. He makes a way for us to do what He has purposed us to do. He works it all out for our good.
    ​
    ​​This blogging world— ​this community of writers, who have the ability to write their hearts ​ in black and white​ are ​kindred spirits. Worth​y of ​knowing. ​You guys open my world, thank you. ​This experience causes me  to want to read more, write more. Kudos via this social media world: One,  I am
     learning Hebrew via France!  Two, I have connected with a community of entrepreneur women who want to share their stories, reveal to you their successes! Finally, I’m pretty good at this….this blogging thing. (I am smiling.)
    ​

    ​M​y counseling journey is  ever​ phenomenal​; with each course I am told I will be great at it. ​Yet, the responsibility of this profession is daunting. I have this huge heart and I want to “fix” everyone without medication. Love is free…me the idealist. My work as a guardian ad litem increases my love ​ for humanity, for our children and their families. I am unable to break confidentiality and the weight of being loving within a system that is not can often times be soul-wrenching.  My sister-friend Nikki ​advises​, “​The “problem” with people like you (ha ha)  and I is we see and notice things that others sometimes don’t. Human suffering is so personal – even when it is someone we don’t know well, that we end up carrying heavy burdens.  Some might find it a curse but I consider it a gift.” Another confidant, Teacher, Mrs. PhD congratulates me for, “Standing in the gap…” ​​​

    Our world is so much bigger than our individual circumstances; the tangible and the intangible​.  Greater beginnings. If we truly think about it every lesson learned takes us to a new ending. Take  time to find the clues that will help you begin again. Trust me, they are there.

    Resolve & Resolute,
    A.Michelle!
    ​This season, take time for you. I pray you are loved with the love you ​have ​always wished for. I pray if your heart has been broken that you heal lovingly and with the expectation there is more.  I believe we are all connected to ​one another to ​improve, learn and draw from ​each ​other ​for our better.
    

     

  • Monday’s reflection

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    Happy Monday!

    I had a pretty eventful weekend with family.  Friday night, I shared a wonderful birthday celebration with my cousin, her sisters and longtime family friends. My Autumn went to a late night movie with her friends, (late is 9:15.) I can admit that I am an overprotective mother. To Autumn and Brutus: nope, I am not changing anytime soon. My Brutus was to spend time with his brother Darius at his home.
    I don’t go out much but when I do my wardrobe advisors are vicious in their comments…after I have completed dressing: Autumn: “I don’t like those earrings with that outfit.” She finds more and hands them to me. I put them on. Brutus enters my room: “I don’t like those earrings. What is Autumn thinking? Everything else is fine.” He finds another pair and I put them on. As I am leaving and Darius is entering to pick up Brutus, Darius: “You need to go back in and put on some clothes.”  I ignore him. (All of me is covered up as usual. They not gone worry me. I dress them.) Of course, all this makes me late. At times I think they torture me for fun. I want to believe that they have no clue how many times I change clothes and how indecisive I am about my “Me.”  #mytribe
    My greatest friends are my siblings, my cousins, my family. Oh how we laugh and cut up. Love is contagious. Goodbyes include, “make sure you text us when you get home.” I am a middle child. There was no outlet or organization I attended where I wasn’t surrounded by family. School, Church, work, shopping, anywhere and everywhere somebody always knew me, whose child I was. I think at times we take for granted what we have, what we are accustomed to yet our environment can become the very foundation of our makeup, our journey.
    As I drive towards Charlotte to pick up Bru I think of my journey as a mother. I have been a mother longer than I have been a child, a teen. My oldest is 26, college grad and living in another state. My second born, Darius is 23, on his own and getting ready to be a father. I remember how I didn’t like children, didn’t want children and I laugh. My greatest fear was that I wouldn’t be a good mother.  I was afraid that I would either forget or leave my child somewhere; absent-mindly neglectful. Now, I am to be a grandmother, whew! Still quite unbelievable to me. (I’m smiling)  Of course I get lost trying to find his place….I debate with my GPS because I don’t wanna travel the Interstate. (Don’t try to figure me out.) Yes, I know there is a setting to avoid highways.  At times I have to ask Autumn or Bru how to mute my phone. I pray they don’t send me to a nursing home, which is Damien’s common threat to me.
    I finally find his place 30 minutes later. It should have been a 15 minute drive per my GPS. Darius so protectively watches me walk from my car. He tells me I am back early. I tell him they went out for drinks. Him: “You could have went with them and got some of that swing back. Bru is fine.” Of course, Brutus is not ready to leave, so I nosey around; ask questions about the new place. Me: “You check the crime rate before moving over here? You like it? Yall feel safe? You did good Darius. I noticed on the way in the parking lot is full and it is Friday night so that’s a good thing.” We leave. Darius again watches us. I smile as he braves the cold. Brutus is sleep before I pull up to the stop sign.
    Damien and Darius grew up the way I did surrounded by family, cousins. They know and understand that generational love. My Autumn and Bru know but will not truly experience the full effect of it.
    Summers were fun time. Running through fields, jumping gullies, riding bikes with sheer abandonment. Damien and Darius remember catching frogs and tadpoles; cousins defending them from neighborhood bullies while playing “rough” football. They were tiny. “We can hit him like that, you can’t.” Oh the childhood fights, the protection. Love is contagious.  None of my cousins or sisters went a second go round of having children, LOL! Only me. I’m not sure if I could have done any better as a mother but I know I always did my best for I received the best. They are happy and so am I.
    #roots #TillmanTaylor #Waxhaw
    Nesting is a huge problem for me and I think it will forever be. My wish is to have a home huge enough for every child of mine and their families to co-exist in one place. I told them they each could have their own wing and each night we could meet at the dinner table. I think it is quite doable. Of course they laugh at me. Family matters, reflecting on life is a joy. Sharing life is an unforgettable constitution. I love Saturday mornings and my favorite day of the weekend is Sunday. Make life count for you and for others.
    Soulfully aging,
    A. Michelle!

  • Humility, a lesson by Bru

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    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

  • Writer’s Block…obstacle: Self

                       “Fear must not be a greater champion of your dreams than you are.” ~A. MichelleConfident

    I have a tendency to put things off, not necessarily a procrastinator but “I will do it later; “I need to be in the mood,” type of person. My writing desk has everything on it and in it for “my to do later.”  Does any of it include writing? Nooo.  Magazines I promised to read, recipes I will try later, bills and more envelopes of bills, books I need to read, encouragement cards I received paperclip w/their envelopes because I self-promised to write the sender a thank you, later….. yet, I only send a text. Smh/smiling.

    This morning I clean off that desk, I organize, I shred, I empty; I actually trash the unnecessary! I keep the unread Cosmo magazines, lol. Although my sex life is null and void my want to have it is not negated, in addition I think I have forgotten how. (Laughing) Yet, “38 Hot Sex Tricks,” and “Crazy Hot Sex Moves He’ll think about all year long” these article titles caught my eye…there was something about exercise moves for a flat belly.  But let’s be realistic my opportunities of achieving a flat belly are pretty much over. My goal list includes lose back fat and find a sex life (with a monogamous, sane male, within my age range, employed, self-motivated, intelligent, etc.)!  Keeping Cosmo could possibly be a plus, one just never knows.

    Once cleaned and organized, I count how many writing idea books, writing journals I have accumulated. There are six and one completed stage play. I sit back and look at my work.  I should feel proud but I feel a sense of shamefulness. I’ve let myself down…that sweet, innocent, naïve 16 year old girl who was so full of letting her writing lead her, make her, empower her and encourage others is very disappointed in Self. I pause, taking moments to remember her and I begin to smile. I remember Her! Through it all, the momentous, the painful, the good, the bad, the ugly, because of/ in spite of Life…..twenty-nine years later and I can still remember her.

    During moments in our lives we tend to take the backseat on our talents, our gifts. Dating, marriage, children, family becomes our focus. Do to my own fear, I truly held the belief that my ex-husband should have the chance to become stabilized in his career, his wants first. Once he/she is gone, then the focus becomes the children—we want better for them; once again we compromise—push for that non-fulfilling job for stability and financial reasons.  Overcoming is a requirement of life, yet if not adequately carried out it can begin the shift of forgetting Self. Our worlds can be turned upside down when we want more for another than we do for ourselves.

    We are in charge of Self— no one, no want, no sacrifice should cost you Self. So I will continue to do more for me, much more than regretting. Remember, acknowledge, smile and move forward to grasp ahold to what you already know. God just doesn’t dilly out uniqueness for you to shut it down. 🙂

    You are amazing!

    ~A. Michelle

    P.S. I still haven’t read the Cosmopolitan articles. I will do it later. 🙂