Posted on Leave a comment

Wakanda Forever!

It has taken me a few days to compose this post. I’ve started and stopped numerous times, overwhelmed by the emotional burden that has presented itself with the loss of Mr. Chadwick Boseman.

I am seriously grieving this man and the loss of his life. I didn’t know him personally but I know a cancer diagnosis personally and watching my uncle rapidly decline from colon cancer, I’ve felt that journey, and it’s a hard one.

To reflect on the many accomplishments of Mr. Boseman in spite of his diagnosis is an absolute honor. cancer has a way of making you feel small, fearful, inadequate, weak and incapable. Five years after my diagnosis and I still struggle with the anxiety of it all.

I commend Mr. Boseman for living out loud and giving black people something to believe in and to strive for, through his many roles. Tonight I watched Black Panther along with much of the nation. I’ve seen it a few times before, but tonight I watched with pride and reverence. I appreciated the land and the waterfalls, the sunsets and all the imagery that make that movie spectacular! Wakanda means possibility to me and Wakanda Forever means “Oh the Possibilities!” https://youtu.be/r8nxdAGg2FY

Tonight I was reminded to show up even when I do not feel like it, stop over-thinking and serve my purpose.

I pray that we all learn to live out loud in the possibilities.

#RIPChadwickBoseman

“To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen”. Jude 1:24-25

Posted on

Outlook

“I have what I have and I am happy. I’ve lost what I’ve lost and I am still happy.”

~rupi kaur

We often hear the phrase, you win some and you lose some. I’ve never felt that saying to be totally accurate because even when we feel that we’ve lost something, we gain so much from the experience.

analyzing & extracting nuggets from Milk and Honey by rupi kaur

I’ve often fantasized about how different, better and more full-filled my life would be if my father were still living. I remember as a kid always saying, “if my dad where here, things would be better.”

Throughout the 41 years that I’ve been on this Earth without him, I’ve spent much of my time healing. I used to visit his grave site daily and I sometimes drive by the location where he took his last breath. When I was younger, it was really hard, total grief and despair but as I got older I felt as if I was being guided on how to handle my grief and how to help others experiencing this same magnitude of pain.

True Story:

Last week I saw a young lady siting in her car consumed with grief. She was visibly shaken and overwhelmed with pain. I had no idea what was wrong but I felt her energy nearly 30 feet away. I was inside of an establishment, she was parked outside at the business next door. It was by happenstance that I turned around and looked out of the window. I felt her vibration. The magnitude of her pain was immense and unsettling.

I later found out that she was grieving the loss of her boyfriend who died in a car crash earlier in the week. She’s been returning to the location where he took his last breath, since it happened. By the time I learned of her story, she had left, I want to believe that I would have made myself available to comfort her had I known what she was dealing with a little sooner.

What I Understand:

I understand her need to revisit the location where her loved one took his last breath. The connection is deep, somehow you feel like you can breathe the same air, see the same sights and maybe align your thoughts with theirs to help you cope.

It’s maddening and satisfying at the same time.

The loss of time, love and experience isn’t easy to deal with.

Where I Find Comfort:

I find comfort in knowing my grief has caused me to vibrate at a level so extrordinary that I can be seated in a room, flipping through a magazine, waiting to be called by my hair stylist and suddenly feel the pull of someone nearly 30 feet away in an adjacent parking lot and understand that her cry was so familiar and shook me to my core that I had no choice but to find out more about her story.

It’s not the loss that makes us happy, it’s the ability to readily get in trenches of saddness and dispair with those who need us the most.

“I have what I have and I’m happy. I’ve lost what I’ve lost and I’m still happy.”

PeaceTalks,

Melissa