The Things I Want To Do With You

By SheelaR
I would like to do many things before we should ever call this anything. For when we touch the earth, we touch a foundation of interdependence and impermence; for we build this castle in the sky, in space.  We are what stars, trees, or streams are; and the stars, trees and streams are us. And if things come together if only for a moment or an eon, it is the same; it is a warrior’s love song that you and I can sing in the shower.
I would like to remember that you and I, we…began things properly. slowly, deliberately, in the old way; as if we meant it. 

26 Signs of a Creative Soul

There’s a spark that flickers within all of us.

Sometimes it burns and burns and catches fire.

Yet for others, it’s put out by the occasionally cruel world or, worse, by ourselves.

There are legendary, and frequent, sad stories of this fire growing out of control—consuming the talent, the person, or both—but there are more stories of flames that could light the entire night sky, for all the world to enjoy—and it’s these that we’ll celebrate within this particular piece.

Here are 26 signs of an artistic, creative soul:

1. We don’t wait for inspiration—we are the inspiration.

2. We might still have a day job, but that doesn’t hinder creative—or productivity.

3. We believe in ourselves, even when it feels like the world does not.

4. We are tenacious—and not only because we know that an artistic temperament is dogmatic, but because we have no choice but to keep on creating.

5. While we believe in ourselves, we also believe in the talent of others—we drink in the art and work of our peers and we learn from it whenever possible.

6. We know that our early work is definitely different from our emerging, more sculpted talent—and we can’t wait to forever witness our own growth continually take shape.

7. We take breaks from producing in order to live, but we never take breaks from being creative; finding fodder in life too.

8. We never work tomorrow when we can work today.

9. We appreciate other art forms.

10. Creative souls come in a variety of colors and styles, but one thing that regularly matches is our passion, our drive and our willingness to be different.

11. We think “weird” is a compliment.

12. We don’t follow the rules of tried-and-true molds from previous artists—we create fresh, new ones.

13.  We may or may not have good business sense, but we absolutely see the benefits—and joys—of networking.

14. When we tell people that we’re “self-employed,” we don’t care if they think it’s code for “unemployed.”

15. Even when “self-employed” feels like it translates to “unemployed,” we continue forth with our dreams because we can’t do anything else.

16. Our work clothes and our play clothes are often the exact same thing.

17. We’re observant—we may or may not be empaths (many of us are), but all of us have “observant” encrypted within our DNA.

18. We expect failure.

19. And then we get back up.

20. Time does not exist when we are working within our medium.

21. Whether introverted or extroverted, we see alone time as a way to rejuvenate, and we see social opportunities as a way to become inspired.

22. We believe in ourselves, but we can be pretty harsh critics too.

23. We generally have problems with authority, because we embody innovation.

24. We aren’t afraid to ask questions.

25. We care more about quality than quantity (and this includes public opinion).

26. We’re moody—and we take advantage of this with our art. 

Jennifer S. White

If we had met

By SheelaR
If we had met.
We would have held hands.
We would have had baths. With bubbles covering our tempting bits.
We would have shared coy looks and knowing smiles. And made sweet, tender love on a sunlit-streamed bed.
We would have walked in the rain. And laughed and sung out of tune. And laughed again.
We would have ridden bicycles with baskets. And streamers if I would’ve had my way.
I would have.
We would have gone to farmers’ and flea markets and chatted with old men boasting old stories and new wrinkles.
We would have baked cookies at midnight and licked crumbs off our fingers.
We would have kissed from one moon to the next and slept under the stars. We would have liked both a lot.
We would have huddled close together by a crackling fire, the wood smoke stinging our eyes and cloaking our coats.
We would have leaned in to each other against the weight of the world and our leaning would have made everything lighter.
We would have been honest with each other. And appreciative. And kind.
We would have been goofy and animated and outrageous when no one was looking. And sometimes when they were.
And we would have recanted our tales and our travesties while laying in each others’ arms and been comforted by the fragrance of each other’s familiar scent.
We would have read books in bed and out loud. And you would have taken off your glasses to look at me. And that would have made my heart happy.
We would have taught each other things.
We would have made formidable plans and you would have had great ideas and I’d have had great color-coded spreadsheets.
And we would have laughed more. Always there would have been laughter.
And lightness. And being.
We would have taken spontaneous road trips with freedom in our feet and filled our lungs with creation amazed at Nature’s Wonders.
We would have walked in the woods, autumn pine needles pungent in our nostrils; the sharp snap of dry twigs under foot.
We would have touched the bark of the Fir trees and let our eyes mist for their beauty. And the fallen.
We would have sat by fresh springs in silent reverence.
We would have stood up for each other. And maybe something greater.
And we would have felt time slipping by with missing moments and tried to hold on with gripping hearts.
From time to time, we would have noticed our physical changes. Not ugly. Not bad. Just that reminder of time.
We would have taken up new hobbies to try to stay young and met with old friends to reminisce of past times.
We would have run out of things to say and maybe felt restless. Maybe disconnected. But we would have known this too shall pass. And it would have.
We would have lived a lifetime and felt it as less than a moment.
We would have taken notice of each others’ habits and preferences and I would have long ago learned to place out your favourite coffee mug with aged, trembling hand.
And you would have brought home flowering weeds in delicate bouquets and touched my face with tenderness, not seeing the creases that would have formed.
We would have gazed at each other in a moment like this, with eyes expressing fear, and tender love.
We would have made love less but held each other more.
And then one day the sun would have set heavily on our heart replaced with skies lain low like a wet, wool blanket, only memories memories memories left of walking hand in hand, sloshing and wet and wild and juvenile and joyous. And laughing.
Now just one, alone on cold sheets, listening to the drone of the rain on the roof and speaking aloud to the other as though still there. Sinking under a collapsing chest of profound emptiness, surrounded by thunderous silence.
And grieving quietly and violently, feeling eternity meaningless remaining.
Until the morning birds’ started song again, less shrill in our ear.
Wake up! Get up! Live.
And so.
With determined breath, we would have picked ourselves up. Because that’s what the other would have wanted.
If I died today, I wanted you to know.
We would have been happy.”
A Letter From The Love You Haven’t Met Yet

Race Matters

By SheelaR

Lately, I’ve been obsessed with how other blacks view and identify themselves, as it relates to race. When there are discussions about it on social media, I’m always paying very close attention. It’s fascinating. I didn’t know the extent that some blacks will go to distance themselves from their blackness. It’s shocking. Should race matter in America the mixing bowl? Yes it should.

I don’t know an exact number, but I would venture to guess that most but not all blacks in America have a shared history of slavery. There is nothing shameful about being black or being the byproduct of slavery. It is not your shame to bear. We’re all “mixed,” some of us more than others, so when I see someone pulling the “I’m not really black” card, I go into attack mode. If you’re not caucasian or mongoloid, you’re negroid. Albeit it a watered down version, but that’s your reality. Take ownership not prejudice in it…it is what it is.

Self-hate is destructive and ugly. You can’t fight for equality if you deny that inequality exist. What LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling has taught us is, race does matter and for some people, that’s all you are, the color of your skin. It matters to all the people in the world that would seek to oppress and deny you your rights based on it. Blacks have become obsessed with material wealth as a way to erase what they think are the invisible color lines. Your education and socio economic status will not shield you from realities of racism, just ask Magic Johnson.

With ownership, comes pride. Take pride in your blackness, and everything else will follow.

“Those who fail to learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat it.” – George Santayana

Just Me

By SheelaR
I’m not perfect and I own that every single day. I am however, very human. I make mistakes and missteps all the time.  We all do, right? I’m dealing with trying to be patient and understanding with the mistakes and missteps of others. It is a challenge. My fuse is short. 
I pray every single day for extra patience and understanding. I pray that I’m given the strength  to always forgive but never forget. I pray for a steady flow of wisdom. I want to always be learned woman. 
I’ve always been healthy and strong, but lately, I find myself struggling with being both. I take on too much. Too much work and it’s related stress.  Too much crap from people looking to tear me down. I am however, blessed with a wonderful support system. They keep me grounded. That is what counts the most. 
I’m lying on sofa watching documentaries because I can’t sleep. My house is so quiet that I can hear my heart beating. It is in these moments when I realize that no matter what I go through, my life is pretty darn good. All those other things are just small bumps on my road. I’m good and that’s what I shall focus on. 
I’m about to watch a documentary about Joan of Arc, so I’m rolling over and resuming my position on the sofa.  

Reality Gone Wrong

By SheelaR

Why are women so hard on each other? Is it insecurity or jealously? Is it because we want to see our sisters to do better, and we become frustrated when they don’t? Are we competing for some unknown prize?

As a woman, I want nothing more than to see women elevate themselves.  I’ll readily admit that I become frustrated and angry at the site of women behaving in an uncouth kind of way. I’m at times quick to dismiss my sisters when I become frustrated with their lack of progress.  In that way, I’ve failed them and myself.

This is where reality television makes an appearance…

Reality television has uncovered deep painful fissures in the relationships of women.  It’s disheartening to watch. When did the ‘lady’ in us stop making appearances? When did we put up our dignity up for sale? We’ve given up on ourselves and our sisterhood, and we’ve become perpetual train wrecks.

We have something beautiful. Something men will never understand.  We are the givers of life. We are nurturers and natural teachers, so why  do we keep passing up the opportunity to uplift and support each other? Why are we giving in and giving up on womanhood? We’ve become remiss in our duties as women…for a price.

Reality television is destroying everything that is beautiful about being a woman and a lady. We are supposed to be gentle and kind.  We don’t scold our men for entertainment or engage in public fisticuffs with other women. A lady doesn’t paint her face like a two dollar hooker and enter a rooms loudly, just to give the audience something to talk about.

Leave the entertainment for entertainers. You are a beautiful masterfully designed specimens. You were not designed to be fodder for television. No matter your color, shape or size…you’ll always be one of many magical beings that God designed with a purpose.

Don’t squander this beautiful life you have for the sake of entertainment. Don’t participate in the degradation of the sisterhood for dollars. In our relationships with women, we must become more like men. We must support unconditionally and without judgement.

Your purpose nor your pride should ever be up for sale.

A Letter From The Love You Haven’t Met Yet. ~ Emily Bracken

Dear Future Love of My Life:

I know. I should have written before.

Forgive me.

But I got the feeling that you were beginning to think I didn’t exist. But I do. And I wanted to let you know that while I might be as elusive as a unicorn grazing in a field of four leaf clovers, I’m close.

I’m around the corner, down the street, on Facebook, in your office, at our local coffee shop, a complete stranger.

I made eyes at you once on the subway.

I saw you across the room at a party.

I swiped you right on Tinder.

But it’s not our time yet. And I know you’re wondering why.

It’s really not fair that you’ve had to wait this long, or go on blind dates, endure bad sex, settle for meh relationships, feel misunderstood, cry from loneliness, wrap your arms around a pillow as you fall asleep at night.

I’m so sorry, my love. You deserve an explanation.

So here it goes. It’s taken me a long time to even admit this to myself much less to you, so please know that everything I’ve written here is true.

The reasons we haven’t met yet, in no particular order:

1. I haven’t thrown out the list of things I think you should be.

2. I’m with the wrong person right now.

3. I’m not ready to be loved unconditionally.

4. Since my life isn’t together, I think you’ll reject me.

5. I still believe that drama is a show of love.

6. I’ve been intentionally keeping my head too busy to think with my heart.

7. I need to date more to understand what I do and don’t like.

8. I won’t be able to appreciate you until life has kicked my ass.

9. I’m too focused on my own needs.

10. I don’t know how to create the feeling of home that lives in my heart.

Clearly, I’m not my best self yet. Or even myself—I’m still figuring out who that is. I’m pretty sure even if we did meet, you wouldn’t like me all that much right now. It’s entirely possible that we did hit it off once, and I left without getting your information; or maybe I did get your number and never called because of any one of the above reasons.

Be patient with me, darling heart.

Know that I’m working my way toward you. So don’t spend any more time thinking about where I am or am not. Just keep making your life exciting and full, so when we do finally come together, we can bring each other joy, because we are already happy.

I know it’s taking longer than you’d like. It’s a hell of a lot slower than I could have ever imagined.

But I’m here.

This is me talking to you. And I’m not going anywhere.

Don’t give up on me.

Yours,

In perpetuity,

The Love You Haven’t Met Yet

Donald Sterling – Racism

By SheelaR

It is open season for the racists.

I don’t know much about the Clippers or Donald Sterling, but if I had to pick someone to be disgusted and disappointed by…it would definitely be him. Like slave owners, he’s made his fortune off the backs of blacks. People he clearly has no love or respect for. Mr. Sterling has a documented history of racism as it relates to blacks and Latinos, so it’s ironic that this latest outing of him would be at the hands of his black Latina girlfriend. Talk about a oxy-moron! No pun intended. I suspect she recorded that conversation for some sinister personal reason. She probably knew that hewas going to say all kinds of stupid stuff, and he did. Her reasons my have been suspect, but she did the right thing.

As sickening as we might find his disgusting rant, he’s not alone. There are lots more where he came from. Until people like him die off, we’ll always be saddled with the burden of racism. It is our cross to bare. It is also our lesson learn. We must come to a collective realization that, there is no real discernible difference between the “races.” We really are just one. The only thing that makes us different is the color of our skin on the outside. We all bleed red.

We must stop supporting men like him with our hard earned dollars. We must make him accountable, and we must begin to teach the next generation that it’s not what’s on the outside that matters.

Ramble

By SheelaR
I’ve been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for the last two hours. My cousin broke up with her new husband of one year. To get ahead of the rumors, he called her at work today and admitted to having engaged sexual liaison only six months into their marriage. They dated for four years before he proposed. By then, she was absolutely sure that he was the one. They cheated us out of a wedding and eloped. 
We all know what it feels like to love deeply and freely, and then have our hearts broken. Why does love hurt so much? Why do we think that heartbreak will never happen to us? I’m crying too.  Love is supposed to be beautiful. Marriage is an affirmation of that, right? It makes one question the whole point of it all. 
In this sad moment for her, I keep thinking about me. There are moments when I’m not sure if I’m crying for her or myself. It’s confusing and overwhelming. 
We talked for a few minutes tonight, but the pain of it all was too fresh for her to talk about anymore, with yet another person. I don’t think either one of us is going to get any sleep. I want to wrap my arms around her.  I want to tell her that it’ll be ok. However, I don’t really know that it will…
Loving deeply leaves an invariable mark on your heart, mind, and soul. When you speak the words “I love you,” you give away a piece of yourself that you’ll never get back. I’ve never said it when I didn’t mean it. Those three words are more powerful than dynamite. You can feel completely whole one moment and in pieces the next. Love is literally a nicely landscaped minefield. It’s beautiful until you have to navigate it.  
We always think about love in a lopsided kind of way. We think about how we’re impacted by it’s grasp. We don’t take into consideration that soul loves us as much as we love them. Love can be a selfish place. With all that being said, I still believe in it.
You will be okay. At some point, you’ll have to decide to either walk away or work it out. I’m here to catch your tears, happy or sad. I love being in love. I’d rather experience the joys of it, even If it’s momentarily, than to never feel it at all. 
Love hurts and heals. 

Hey Judas!

By SheelaR
Like Jesus, most of us have experienced a Judas in our lives. Unlike Jesus, most of us have survived the betrayal.  Life is full of painful moments.  It is how we deal with them that determines if we are survivors or casualties. The wounds of betrayal are deep and devastating. Trust becomes just another five letter word. You start to view everyone with an uncertain eye. In everybody lies a shadowy figure. It is life changing. Another day, another lesson learned…that is if you’re open and aware. 
I’ve learned that life is not black and white. It is made up of varying shades of gray and humans are innately flawed opportunist. Which is why my moments are really no different from anyone else’s.  The people and the circumstances may be different, but at the bottom of it all, are still very painful moments. 
Not understanding why someone takes time out of their life to and hurt or destroy other people…adds another level of hurt to it. Don’t ever dwell in the pain. That alone will kill your spirit. “There’s something wrong with your character if opportunity controls your loyalty.”
I’ve chosen not to ever dwell on my Judas moments. I cry and then I’m over it. I generally get to a point where I can find humor and irony in it.  It is my coping skill. I also develop compassion for my Judas, for he knows not what he does. 
You can’t be happy and whole if you’re actively and willingly looking for an opportunity to hurt other people. You are damaged. I feel sad that life has left you feeling broken and unloved. Hurt people hurt.  If you are a hurt soul, I know you won’t see yourself in this, most don’t and are unwilling to entertain the thought of it. Don’t go around wreaking havoc in the lives of others because yours has taken a shitty turn left. Get back in it and make a right turn at the fork in the road. 
I’ve got work to do and I haven’t had my morning coffee. I shall see you on the flip side 🙂 P.s. I’ve had to defer my writing until a later time in my life. I’ve got lots of other wonderful things to keep me busy. Life is good!