Intimately Worded with Michelle

Tag: Self

  • A Christmas Eve Note

     “Love yourself. Accept yourself. Be honest about what heals and helps you. Then you will bring your healing gifts to others. Your life will be a gift to the world.” ~Melody Beattie

    One of my favorite events of Christmas is trimming the tree. I completed the trimming this morning. I was very ill earlier this week. Yes, there is a point in putting it up this late, it is my joy! Also, I remember. I reflect on each ornament. There is so much love,  so many memories… Damien is now 27, and now has a fiancée!! Darius gingerbread man hangs crooked–he was created in 1997 and has survived many breaks. I have glued him back together several times during Darius’ gravity defying superboy years. Smh/lol.  He is now 24. Autumn & Brutus’”new” ornaments with their initials. As they hang their individual ones, (I love their banter.): Brutus:”You know “B” is always at the top.” Autumn: “A” always come first.” As she hangs hers higher. I am a grandmother and my first grand baby brings me the greatest joy–her love is the reason for my illness. I could not put her down no matter how she coughed and sneezed. Oh she is getting so big, my Plump Plump.

     I have beautiful old ornaments passed to me by my deceased Mother-in-Law. The way I decorate all my Mom, deceased now 4 years. I remember so much of how I grew up with family …I remember my oldest brother Wayne teaching me the tricks of cooking grits. “Michelle because the instructions say 5 minutes. You do not stop there. You cook them longer than 5 minutes.” This morning we had grits for breakfast. (Not something I eat daily.) I remember walking over our land and picking out our Christmas tree for Daddy to cut down. I remember all my Waxhaw Christmases. #Tillman

    My children do not realize the joy of trimming the tree yet. The toils of youth!  The thought of trimming the tree is cumbersome and they want to do something else. I cherish this time, it is very dear to me. I give pause and think of so much that has brought me to this day, my now. So much has happened in my life this year but that will be another blog post. I promise to share. 2016 has been amazing and amazingly difficult yet I have not lost sight of how God does what He does.
    Reflect. Remember. Receive. Giving back to self requires many non-worry moments. Light your candles, play the Christmas music, fill the kitchen with the smells of baked cookies and favorite cakes. Listen to the laughter of children, of family. Love more because you are capable. We are equipped with the gifts to love, to love others and to be loving. Gift the world with your presence. We were created in His image for so much more.
    Live love. Love self, it is imperative that we do. Be great at expecting God’s best for you. What we gift out, boomerangs purposely. Continue in God’s grace for your life. Do not doubt His love for you even though it feels and seems like He hasn’t heard a word of your prayers. As He justifies, He prepares. Merry Christmas!

    Season’s Best,

    Michelle & the Tribe

    2016-christmas-tree
    Christmas Tree 2016…my Angel Woman’s head. My tree is 7ft tall…I wouldn’t have it any other way. #tiredoftakingpics #thisisthe bestshot

  • Heart of Forgiveness

    Forgiveness: the tendency to forgive offenses readily and easily; the action or feeling of forgiving someone.

    I woke up this morning soul smiling. I have not been able to do that for some time. (So much going on in the world.)  I woke up grateful. I woke up with a heart of forgiveness. It is easy to define oneself as a forgiving person when there is no evidence of any physical or emotional attack.

    A heart of forgiveness is transitional. Letting go from your past to what is now is your gain.  I cannot give you the recipe or the steps to get here. What I am learning…I am most happy when all my cares, every concern and the ability to allow God to do more with the details of my life supersede any thing anyone has done to me or against me.

    There will be times in our lives when it just sucks. People are mean. They appear uncaring. Actions speak louder than words but we have to acknowledge that there are bigger things going on behind the scenes. (Growth opportunity)

    Reaching points of despair even depression is very normal and common— we are human. Yet, continuing to believe in yourself and each other with hope is much grander if you are dismissing people from your life—with anger. Trust me they will find their way out…without you avenging and without you deriving and molding them into a bad person. I think tearing a person down or developing them to be less than we imagined destroys a little bit of self.

    My experience: Anyone who hurts me becomes this horrible being. I make them that because I want to move forward, get over it quickly. People are whom they are without me adding to or subtracting from their character. Their meanness, their neglect or inattention is not a reflection of me. Really, it is not.

    If you follow me, you are aware that I have this amazing pastor. Rev. Cook, Jr.  Oh, how he steps on my spirit just so especially when I believe I am this okay person. This past Sunday, his topic is marriage. I listen, guarded. I am not over the edge thrilled with the topic. I know marriage. I believe it to be sacred. What I grasped during his dialogue: I do not forgive. I forget. I move on happily. I tell ya he messes with my spirit just enough.

    I am not saying I am now one of those “turn the other cheek” sistahs. (laugh) Just know another’s mess will no longer mess me. Miss me wit’ it.

    We should solider through life with integrity and honesty. We will be the better for it. Be original; our light draws the moths and the butterflies. The toxic people will do their best to destroy us. Do not let them. The great ones, those lighthouse friendships well they never leave us in the dark.

    Forgive because you want to not because you have to. It works wonders for your soul.

    Unashamed in this growth thing,

    Michelle

    quotes-lifeclass-forgiveness-lewis-smedes-600x411

  • Heels, Heals, & Concrete

    My Sunday…20160626_150107 (1)

    Teen: “Ms. Michelle you play?” Me: “I can show you better than I can tell you.” I missed my first few shots so I took off my heels and we began to play. He is 15 years old, plays soccer; he has never held a basketball, heavy accent, overdosed once. He is the new kid, the quiet shy kid. My third day on post and I cannot remember his name. He shoots, misses horribly. I begin to teach him the techniques of holding a basketball, of bouncing. He continues to miss. He bounces the ball to me saying, “You try.”

    I get’em all in! Sundress, barefooted, happy, sweating and connecting. During our conversation, I learn that he speaks nothing but negative statements about himself. “I can’t do it.” “I won’t get close to the blackboard.” I learn that his parents are from Honduras and El Salvador. I learn that he is a US citizen and that when others call him, “Mexican” its the only time he corrects anyone. I learn that I cannot pronounce his ethnicity but I continue trying until he laughs. He doesn’t mind repeating, teaching me.

    It is just him and me. All the other teens have gone elsewhere along the park. I see him relax. I see him smile. I see him continue to try. I am learning to be his biggest cheerleader. I clap and yell when he gets a shot in. He then asks about me: “How did you learn how to play?” Me: “I have older children and I like the game of basketball. I watch it. You have to keep trying. Find a spot on the court you feel comfortable with and go from there. Keep practicing. Don’t give up.” Him: “Okay, Ms. Michelle. You got WNBA skills!” We laugh. I did outscore him.

    After our interaction, sitting at the counselor table, Older Guy, smiling: “You have to meet them right where they are.” Me: “It was nice.”

    Our moment healed my “self-tearing” struggle from last week. “Don’t give up.” They tell me I am no more than 32 years old. I dare not correct them. They know I am not a recovering addict and my first day they dismissed me as confidant. Yet today…today was a good day.

     

     

     

     

  • Falling Up

    Me, not so put together….

    Oh, I make myself so mad! I can complete a four-panel interview with a smile and have the whole team laughing. I can exit the building smiling at everyone. I can bravely acknowledge the elderly man staring with, “Hi! How are you?” Him: “Better. I’m getting there.” Me: “You look good.” Him: “You too!” I flash my huge smile, strut in my heels glad to make someone’s day and in the next 15 seconds fall ….actually, I surmise that the ground came up to meet me. Knees scratched, palms tingling, phone cracked, portfolio wide open and my heels off my feet, I look up to find people helping me to my feet.

    Me: “Just give me a minute. How did I fall?” One stranger, female: “These cracks in the pavement. You probably stepped in one.” Me, shaking my head: “Only me. Thank you, I am fine. All my cuteness gone, ego bruised.” Her: “We all do it.” Me to self: “Not me. Who falls just outta nowhere?” All three women hugged me, strangers pitying the Black woman with the deep blonde inner roots.

    For all the grass that is green!  I feel as though my guardian angel is indulging in her comedic efforts to grab my attention. For what reason, I am unsure. Pride shattered, I gathered all of me together and sat in my car until my world righted to strong, independent, confident Michelle. I wanted to blast Mary J. Blige and Chrisette Michele on the drive back but I had to listen to my GPS to get back home. Change and newness does not welcome into my spirit so readily. Clumsily confident, that is me.

    Confident
    ~M.

     

  • Stuff, the inbetween stuff…28 years later

     

    Dawn Michelle

    What I have learned in the past week, change is inevitable. I know this is not new and exploding information but the older I get the more I realize how set in my ways and within certain thought processes I have the tenancity to remain. I am in wonder when the little things bring me more enjoyment than frustration; that my little tweaks and Michelle-isms bring more joy than all the other stuff.

    • Yesterday, I am asleep before my granddaughter. Her parents went out last night. She and I had a wonderful time together until about 9:00 pm, by 9:04 I was asleep. I really did try to stay awake. She remained wide awake. She is getting so plump and so mean. When she is hungry, she lets the world know. Auntie Autumn, my daughter kept her the rest of the night. Darius, my son, her father does the pick up. He was not surprised about my bedtime: “Momma can’t never stay up.” I would like to add I am up very early, when everyone else is asleep.
    • My “Me time” makes me a better person for the life I lead and the life I want to achieve. I enjoy the strength not to push it aside, deviate from it. My routine: prayer time, devotional call, children off to school and then exercise. My “Me time” prepares me for my day, for whatever the good, the bad, the surprises, the “what will be” and for everyone else. I do not have the answers to all that happens but I am learning the wisdom to not control is a required balance in being exactly where God wants me to be.
    • I am learning that I am happy and it is not because of all the things I have completed or the past mistakes. I truly believe I am happy because I choose to be. I am, because my faith has made this moment greater than yesterday. I am, because if I made it pass all of that other stuff, the bad stuff, the immature stuff, the pain, and the hurt I am going to make it to the next good stuff, the God stuff, which has no limit.
    • I am learning also that I have a tendency to make others laugh, and at my expense. I never identify myself as a short person. Yet, my children and others find it very funny that I cannot see out the peephole or is it funny that I am in denial? Either way, I slightly laugh with them. (Hee hee ha ha.)  My children are marginally taller, except Brutus who has a way of calling me, “Michelle” and that has him rolling in the floor. I have no clue why. I laugh with him too.

    I think we should be inclined to prepare ourselves to enjoy the little things. I had lunch with a friend Friday. I will confess, the younger Waxhaw-home grown-rooted-Baptist me would have never went. In that lunch meeting I describe my life ending with, “My life is pretty boring. I don’t do drama.” Him: “I beg to differ. I think it’s rather exciting. You are a great mother. A good woman. There are not too many good women out here. You are quiet just like you were in High School.” I smiled. I will take it.

    I don’t think there are limits to soul stretching. I think we brake…break because the plan isn’t working the way we thought nor how we planned. Our greatest assets develop from our not knowing. Love your life, continue to do the necessary to make it better. You just have too. Kisses!

     

     

  • Stay Strong in your Strength

    Whatever your strength may be, remain strong in it. Strength isn’t how much you can hold on to without bending. Strength is the core pull that keeps you.  I know life is difficult, rocky, tumultuous, unwavering, different, exciting, unexpected and yet, wonderful. Life is full of change and it molds us into great individuals. Many times life hits us with a gargantuan why! However, we have to be cautious, observant, for remaining in a hurt does so much injustice to you, to others. Losing pieces of your soul constitutes nothing; it betters nothing.

    There are so many reasons to go forward. Holding in an act of violence is a violation to all that is you. Soul wounds are God’s jurisdiction yet if you do not have strength enough to voice it, see it for what it is how He is able to heal completely? God loves intimately, without reserve. We have to take part in our own healing.

    Your strength is not a mute response. Silence is not a healing mechanism for hurt. Your strength protects you, heals you, and directs you. God is the source of my strength and yes there are times I can forget that He is. But we have to be more than a statistic, be more than what was done to us.

    Refuse to drown yourself in self-doubts, negative feedback, and devastating insults. Stop living within your hurts…caused by others. It is hard to maneuver and to be motivated in broken places. We can mend, hold on and continue to try a self-fix but a broken vase still appears cracked, chipped despite the different methods used to put it back together. The damage is there. Self-fixes include silence of a soul hurt, self-hate, low self-esteem, self-abuse, victimization, and ignoring a cycle of debilitating behavior.

    Stay strong in your strength. You know what your strengths are, don’t let anyone’s action strip them away. My strong strength: Faith. It is a strength no one can see nor are they capable of creating it nor do they have the ability to diminish it or take it from me.

    Any thing you do, whatever keeps you from falling into an emotional abyss of less than is your fallback, your anchor. When the world does not make sense what is your strong strength? I remind myself that I am an awesome Mom, my strong strength. No matter the challenges in life, I have to be better than a hurt, greater than a disappointment. It is my responsibility, my right, a privilege to overcome.

    A fragile heart is a strong strength. Keep it. Being hopeful, having expectations keeps you from settling for less than what you deserve. Do not let your thoughts descend into what ifs and why nots for they only produce negativity and intrude upon your imagination. It requires so much to outdo others and even more to be better than the best. You have all you need to be who you are…its right there inside of you. Take the time to enhance all that you have to offer the world.

    A hurting stuck requires no growth; it doesn’t move the world.  Remain strong and strengthen yourself for far greater than you imagined.

    Always expecting more for you,

    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!