So how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume.. Convent Girls Class of 1972 Reunion with our teacher "Jo"

So how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume..lyrics from the song To Sir with Love

 On Tuesday October 15^th  2013 at Joseph’s Restaurant Cascade, Trinidad,  an intimate group of about 25 girls, now women in their late fifties and early sixties sang the words “To “Jo” with Love” to our beloved teacher.  

The St Theresa's Convent Girls Intermediate Class, Form 1 G from the years 1967 -1972, the Reunistas, the Recyled Teens,  as we fondly think of ourselves,  had the enormous pleasure and privilege to celebrate friendships of 46 years.  Most significantly, we came together to share an honorary thank you to our teacher, formerly Sr. Mary Jovita, now widowed and a grandmother, and ever still a teacher..

To us she is Jo. And to us, she is an indelible, unforgettable inspiration, who is an integral part of  the intimate legacy of who we are and who we have become.

As one of the new crop of local nuns to start teaching right out of the Holy Faith Convent order, she was merely 20 years old when she introduced herself to the 35 or so, new Common Entrance, form 1 G class starting secondary school at St. Theresa’s.   No more than a petite 4’6’’ and let’s just add 2 inches with the hood of the habit, for good measure, there was a curious precociousness about her.

With a rowdy bunch of misfits, there were those of us with very prestigious backgrounds.   The family names preceded them.  There were those with struggling families barely able to afford the uniform and books required to attend high school.  Some traveled from the far East, all up by Caroni, 20 miles outside of the school district, and some others did not have enough money to buy bus fare to school on a daily basis. 

There were the highly popular girls who knew each other from their former Holy Faith Convent private schools attendance.  There were the many girls who had all of the strikingly beautiful assets of face, hair, eyes and shape.  There were those who were the quiet and remained mostly to themselves. There were the rambunctious, which somehow, trouble would come seeking them… even when they were attending church services.

With an eclectic bunch of the few who were disposed to be studious, and more of us,  that were keen on being in the “in crowd”   Jo had her work cut out for her.  She must have prayed real hard, because she found all of the most innovative ways to capture our attention and encourage camaraderie, sportsmanship and friendship.

In English and English Literature, our class performed Shakepeare’s As You Like It, Romeo and Juliet, Midsummer’s Night Dream with theatrical aplomb and lusty characterizations.  As opposed to the teachings by the Irish nuns, our class also got to perform local plays.  One of our favorite enactments was "Tief from Tief make God laf" . We took liberties with our local dialect and spewed our sentences with every flavor of local twang.  In that play, there was more laughter from the actors’ performances, than there were from our school audiences.  We learnt Chaucer and spoke “goode olde” English prose.

Jo championed these efforts with charismatic enthusiasm and devoted conviction.

Jo, led us as Girl Guides.  We visited Tobago.  We visited Toco. We visited Fort George.  We went down de islands.  We went to Our Lady of Fatima pilgrimages.  We participated in school bazaars to make sure our school fund raising efforts were successful. 

Many of our greatest pranks played on each other were unknown to Jo, while under her and other teachers’ watchful eyes.

Jo, was our netball, volleyball, sports coach.  There seemed to be no exhaustion to her efforts to keep us virtuous and exhaustively occupied.

Jo encouraged our talents.  Our class enjoyed participating in many music festivals under the choral tutelage and stellar instructions by Jo.  In addition to classical singing, Jo was most instrumental in encouraging our local carol singing and paranging.  Because our carol singing became so popular, and the demand for our house visits became so extensive, we perhaps, became the cause of our own misfortune of losing Jo’s accompaniment in our travels.   Her outings with our caroling groups got derailed as the convent rules prevented her frolicking with us past their curfew hours.

Jo was untiring in her efforts to shepherd her very first class of secondary school age girls.  Needless to say, we must have exhausted her beyond understanding.  Yet, she never showed us indifference or even shared her own disappointments that we may not have been as serious and studious as she hoped she taught us to be. 

After we left High School our lives have taken its many separate paths. Many of us stayed in Trinidad and became successful business entrepreneurs.  Quite a few of us, left Trinidad and made new lives abroad, in London, the United States, Canada, Montreal and other far places throughout the world.  Our stories are all rich in tragedies and luxuries.  Each one of us has many facets of colorful lives that makes us all very individual and unique.  We are grandmothers now.  We are single. We are married, divorced and widowed.

Jo, also, has a new history.  She is now a widow, a grandmother, and she continues to teach.  A local private school in Port of Spain now has the jeweled prize of Jo as their steelpan and music teacher.

After four decades of separate lives, our Class of 1972 reconnected.  A fellow classmate describes our reunion as follows:

To all you beautiful ladies

What can I say!  What a wonderful Reunion of our Class of '72.  So many of you took time out from your busy schedules to be there.

To the awesome ladies who took their vacation and flew in from abroad to attend this event thank you.  I know it took lots of organizing on your part. It was definitely worth it.

To those of you who initially expressed embarrassment and apprehension to attend because you didn't immediately remember some of our classmates thank you for making the effort and coming out to face the challenge.  Hey it's been 41 years and we're getting on in age.  The memory is not what it used to be.  The idea was to re-connect and re-connect we did!  All it took was a little jog of the old memory.

To those of you who only spent one or two years with us and still came, a special thank you for knowing that we consider you one of us. It was an honour having you there.

To those of you who couldn't attend you were missed and we hope that when we do decide to meet again you will be there.

On the evening of the Reunion as part of our dedication event, we did a chorus of songs, like Chattanooga Choo Choo, Shine On Harvest Moon, Bubbles Bangles and Bright Shiny Beads all part of our Broadway repertoire,  all taught to us by our illustrious and talented teacher Jo.  We also recalled our version of  "In a Little town of San Rosita", where everyone joined in the chorus refrain, with a lilting echo of  OOO OOh after each line…and we sang the words of the best teacher student song in history  To “Jo” with Love.

And the words were heartfelt,  as the room full of beaming, beautiful, and exquisitely charming girls in their late 50s and early 60s sang their hearts out in unison…to

“A friend who taught us right from wrong and weak from strong

That’s a lot to learn, What can we give you in return

If you wanted the moon, we would try to write across the sky in letters

That would soar a thousand feet high

To “Jo”  with Love”

Needless to say, this is just a new beginning to our future.   The Reunistas, the Recyled Teens, The Form 1G St Theresa’s Class of 1972 continue to revel in the memories and cherish our treasured friendships.

Thank you Jo for sharing your light, your love, your rich humanity and your blessedness in each of the manylives you have touched.  We love you ever more.

My Tobago trip, too Short, too Sweet, and the Toilet on the Seas

Store Bay Tobago... those lovely boats to Buccoo Reef and The Nylon Pool Oct2213 gcw

So far the St Theresa Intermediate Class of 72 Reunion in Trinidad and Tobago has been the vacation of a lifetime of memories.. there is so much to be told, and mere words are not enough to describe.

But, the trip to Tobago, aboard the Spirit inter island cruise ship from Port of Spain is the lasting memory that I will archive with highest record.

One of the best deals anywhere in the world, a 3 hour cruise from Port of Spain to Tobago at a mere $50 TT dollars or the equivalent of $8 US.  With my niece Lisa, buddy Rod, and me, we embarked on our excursion aboard the Spirit Cruise Line of Trinidad and Tobago.  Luckily, and because I wanted to savor the many hours of Tobago for one day, we purchased airline tickets for our return trip.  Again, another wonder of Caribbean bests,  a $24 US Caribbean Airlines flight, 20 mins travel between the islands.  Travel times were as late as 10:30 pm.  I imagined a full day of Tobago activities.

We boarded the Spirit 10:30a and set sail.  With the local cuisine on board, I couldn't wait.  I had to have bake and salt fish buljol with coffee.  There was even a movie playing, Godzilla or something.  The first hour I remember the beauty of the waters and was delightedly struck by the island inlets that seemed to be so close by.

Lisa, reminded me to take a pill for motion sickness as I was suggesting that we should go upfront to the bow of the boat to look at the view.  Somewhere at the point where Lisa was drawing a map on her Samsung Note pad of the route that the boat was taking, to indicate that we were near Macqueripe, my personal Godzilla encounter began.

With an unsteady walk I headed to the closest ladies toilet. There was a lady barfing in the sink. In that stall I began my agony in the garden with every element of body fluid finding passage from mouth and backside in simultaneous symphony.

I did manuevres between sitting on the stool to bending over with my face as close to the toilet water all in one movement.   I then somehow thankfully found the trash bin would work better as the vomit holder, while the toilet bowl captured the remains of the bake and buljol.

I prayed louder than I have ever prayed in years.  All my denials of faith and worship became loud screaming confessions.  I was bawling without shame... Lord  Lord help meh.!!!..  all my lost family members names were called on... Mammy, Daddy, Didi,  Michael, Brian,,, ah go dead!!! my body was wreaking in cold sweat, chills, heat all at the same time.  At some point I wanted to just lie prostrate on that floor and pray to wake up feeling somewhat relieved.

Thanks to some mental vanity.... I just couldn't see me arriving in Tobago, smelling and looking like shit with a smile of faint welcome.

Then with the help of some lovely attendant, and my niece Lisa, I emerged from my vaporous dungeon as the boat docked.  Two hours after.

I was still light headed and I barely remember the taxi driver who took us to Store Bay.  But I felt he was looking at me in the back seat and praying that his taxi was not going to be part of my exit strategy for any remnants of sea sickness.

Store Bay was the answer.. After getting up enough energy to get into that beautiful calming soothing and refreshingly healing salt water... I began to breathe life again.  Did you think that I was going to be enthusiastic, when the Buccoo Reef and Nylon Pool tour guide came along and suggested a boat ride????  My absolute biggest missed opportunity.  I begged him please don't ask.

With as many pictures that I have taken to capture moments of my visit to Trinidad and Tobago... would you believe, there are only 4....pics of my Robinson Crusoe Isle of Tobago visit in over 20 years.

No worries... I am not Cruise ship material... I know for sure.  For my Tobago,  I have the undulating memory ....steeped in the Toilet on the Seas.

feeling better after ginger beer at Kariwak Village Restaurant

Conversations with the Inner Voices...Conflict and Confirmation

#alexgrey  painting for interpretation and discussion... for me its the constellation of worlds encircling the vortex of the mind

Having and being

Stripped from the uniform of having,  it becomes very clear that what does matter are  not things.  In the absence of finances,  things, possessions, there is charity.  Confusingly, charity is not  the experience of begging and receiving..   In charity there is largesse, there is abundance, there is patience and there is kindness.

Many miss the experience of the gifts of charity, because there are so many things that fill their lives with emptiness

Giving is therefore the Gift:  

On Giving Kahlil Gibran

You give but little when you give of your possessions.It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?And what is fear of need but need itself?Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?

Relationship

Before the game of blaming begins, the most painful hurt is the acceptance of self inflicted injury.  

The abject lust for another is a curse that many who have had the bad relationship exercise are afraid to admit. In the act of consenting to be subjected to the person who is neither thoughtful,  nor caring,   you wish you could take back all the emotions, all the exchanges, all the lip locking, body sweating, acrobatic arching moments that were for your personal enjoyment and not a shared experience

Faced with your reflection in the mirror of emotional grief, you forgive.   Hurt takes its good ole time and healing takes forever.

Tyler Perry  in the play MadeaGoesToJail  eloquently advises:

This is what I've learned in all these years on this earth. If somebody wants to walk out of your life, let them go. Especially if you know you've done everything you can do. If you've sat around and been the best man or the best woman you can be and they still want to go, let them go. Whatever they're running after, in a minute they'll see what they had, but by then it's gonna be too late.Some people come into your life for a lifetime. Some come for a season. You've got to know which is which. And you're always gonna mess up when you mix seasonal people up with lifetime expectations.

Religion 

After the murderous assault of terrorists, and lives have been claimed, what form of deity, one wonders,  could contaminate minds to act without humanity.  But then again, all of what worship has become was wagered in killings from time immemorial.

Commercialized religion is rampant in all spheres of religious practices.  The Bible a book created by men, is used as a mouthpiece for fear mongering.  In reality, the religious truths of all the denominations have constructed their particular sacred theologies to ensure that worshippers practice their stated tenets.

Sacred intimacy is not a popular convention.  It is better to have a public pulpit to minister from.  It is better to build monuments, and create boards, and craft philosophies and speak the Word, and chant,  and have flamboyant demonstrations of spirit filled enactments to secure faith followers.

In moments of solitude, the awe of understanding is divine miracle.  In Spiritual Madness, The necessity of meeting God in the Darkness by Caroline Myss ,  she describes many aspects of mystical divinity:

• The true reason we invite God into our lives
• Why spiritual intimacy can lead to chaos in our personal world
• Four questions crucial to your spiritual direction that therapists never ask
• How mystical experience translates into everyday life in our time
• The truth about spiritual powers such as clairvoyance, healing, and bi-locating
• A way to end spiritual confusion with a simple, honest prayer
• Many self-teaching exercises and practices for daily life

Spiritual Madness is a unique and daring session that reaches to the borderland of spiritual experience,where the inner mysteries of the divine are fully opened in the outer world of career and family.

Sexuality

Being normal is so inclusive that even the gender bending in sexuality is now the de facto.  The years of childhood are shrinking way too rapidly.  The influences that define gender orientation, sexual orientation, pre adolescence or adolescence are now crunched into what seems like prehistoric formative years.

To all the young people struggling with issues of  self here is a sane point of view from Janelle Monáe:

"When I started my music career, I was a maid. I used to clean houses. My mother was a proud janitor. My stepfather, who raised me like his very own, worked at the post office and my father was a trashman. They all wore uniforms and that’s why I stand here today, in my black and white, and I wear my uniform to honor them.This is a reminder that I have work to do. I have people to uplift. I have people to inspire. And today, I wear my uniform proudly as a Cover Girl. I want to be clear, young girls, I didn’t have to change who I was to become a Cover Girl. I didn’t have to become perfect because I’ve learned throughout my journey that perfection is the enemy of greatness.Embrace what makes you unique, even if it makes others uncomfortable".

Inner Voice

Every single moment, someone in this vast universe is experiencing some life changing thoughts.  Typically, my thoughts versus your thought becomes a contest of how much and what I can do or say that make mine more compelling than yours.

The inner voice that is constantly asking questions and seeking answers is a reflection of pains and gains.  Yet it also is a celebration of being.

“Composer, sculptor, painter, poet, prophet, sage, these are the makers of the after-world, the architects of heaven. The world is beautiful because they have lived; without them, laboring humanity would perish.”― James Allen, As a Man Thinketh

Remembering 911: How the Department of Homeland Security, Transportation Security Administration came to be

In the reflection of the lights that shine in the replacement columns of the World Trade Center,  let us  honor the courage of those who were the ultimate sacrifice...  gcw 91113

On September 11 2001, I was a full time caregiver to my mother and was administering her ritual tube feeding.  She was in her final stages of advanced diabetes.   While attending to my Mom, I heard the explosion sounds coming from the television in the adjoining room.  My brother sounded the alarm, "Terrorists have attacked the US!".  The World Trade center has been hit by an airplane!!! 

And in that moment of utter dismay, I watched as the second plane gorged its way into the second building and exploded.

With millions, I saw President George Bush quickly ushered from the kindergarten classroom in Florida.   All the news channels were simultaneously showing the doomed airplane hijackings.  The World Trade Center buildings were imploding and crumbling to the ground.   Pictures of the Pentagon showed the fuselage of an airplane with its protruding tail crashed into its exterior walls. Billowing flames were the lasting vestiges of carnage left on a Pennsylvania field, from the plane intended for Washington, DC.  

In its most obtuse development, the Department of Homeland Security, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) came to be, because of the pillage of terror in the aftermath of 911.  While there are the many who have been the TSAs most vocal challengers and much of the scrutiny and invasive practices of safe travel measures are reviled, the conception and the coordination of efforts to create the TSA were bristled in the ebbs of calamity.  The wellspring of national and international safety in travel were created out of doom.

On the heels of the epic disaster of 911, it was mandated that all airport employees throughout the United States would be federal government employees. With the professional services contract awarded to NCS Pearson to perform this exhaustive undertaking, the largest mobile human resource staffing organization was formed.  I was one of the selected staffing consultants hired to be part of the mobile team to secure the new federal hires for the US airports.

In an extraordinary effort by teams of dedicated and patriotic workers, who were committed to duty and national pride, I share a snapshot of the preliminary makings of the agency we fondly love to hate:  The Department of Homeland Security, Transportation Security Administration.

  

With teams of over 2000 human resource staffing specialists assigned to each coast, we traveled as an army of civilians to sites closest to each airport facility from the northernmost to the southernmost States of the United States of America.  

With statutory mandates for new federal hires to be completed within a 12 month time frame, massive populations of federal job seekers were attracted to hiring events held in major cities and towns.

The organization and administrative undertakings were monumental.   

Teams of staffing specialists were on duty from the earliest morning hours to the latest early morning hours., scouring over paperwork, inputting and sending data between contact leaders and government representatives.  

Our assignments entailed interviewing applicants for screeners, baggage handlers, airport managers, federal security directors, just to name a few.

After the screening applicants were selected and the rudiments of federal employment practices were initiated, there were finger printing actions, background checks, drug testing paperwork to be completed and  filed.   There were contingency offers of federal employment to successful candidates that required demand processing.

Among the most compelling moments of the interview processes were the exhibitions of patriotic  passion, and the overwhelming responses to civic duty by many of the applicants.  

At the New York City hiring site, held at the Grand Marriott Hotel in Mid Town Manhattan, the atmosphere was filled with electrical synergy.  Thousands thronged the 16^th floor Marriott, which was turned into the largest mobile office of staffers, reviewers, and administrators, to submit their applications for federal employment.  Successful interviewees were graduated to become federal employees.  The final step of the hiring process was the official federal government swearing in ceremonies.

With every swearing in ceremony occasion,  when the Pledge of Allegiance was spoken, with right hand raised and left hand on the chest,  most every one in the room could feel the gravity of emotion that resonated with the words that were spoken:

I pledge Allegiance to the flag

of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands,one nation under God, indivisible,with Liberty and Justice for all.

 Throughout the experience of the hiring of the federal employees for the USA airports, friendships developed, strangers became family and unity prevailed. 

Twelve years since 911, many of the human resource staffing specialists for the Transportation Security Administration have continued their lives in various disciplines and corporate forums. Although separated in our individual lives, we will always have this common bond.

  

Out of the ashes of 911 the most endearing triumphs were the heroic champions of goodwill that reverberated throughout the streets of New York City, Washington DC, Pennsylvania, and the whole world.  In their most cataclysmic moment, the rescuers, the medics, the defenders and the civilians of the city of New York, and the thousands of those whose loss we mourn, became the nation’s heroes.  Theirs are the stories forever inked in history that will remain indelibly carved in our hearts and in the minds of all who remember 911.

In the midst of the aggravation of searches and screening at airport terminals, I gratefully remember all the colleagues who shared in the TSA staffing journey.  In the reflection of the lights that shine in the replacement columns of the World Trade Center,  let us  honor the courage of those who were the ultimate sacrifice. 

Respectfully and thankfully,  the Department of Homeland Security, Transportation Security Administration is the uncomfortable reminder, that our safety will never be comprised, and our freedom will not be sacrificed.   

Twerk a national pastime called Wining

MileyCyrus, poster good girl Hannah Montana, gone bad! Even the Smiths, all of Will, Jayden, and Willow, were aghast.at the MTV ceremonies, it seemed, as Ms Cyrus exposed her notoriety and celebrity status to media's delight



As you can see, Nothing New Under the Sun... Just Miley Cyrus got media clout....

Being a good and upstanding grandmother of three beautiful, decent, and modesty sanctioned grandgirls, 16, 10, and 5, I would have lassoed the likes of Ms. Miley right off off that VMA stage, money, fame, celebrity, shucked and thrown to the wind. This would be a typical response, from a morally upright and proper lady of Caribbean heritage. But, wait!!! Miley Cyrus, is acting out more Caribbean moves than many of my own Trinidad and Tobago Carnival babies.

In the flailing of all the media activists, posting more snippets, more pictures, more highlights of the Miley Cyrus VMA show, I share another twisted twerk from the perspective of social observation.
Let me first set the stage for the commentary. The last thing I was doing was watching the VMAs. I was enjoying some pre kindergarden first day of school hours with my 5 year old. And I know, one day sometime in her late twenties, these moments will be my most cherished treasures.

With posts from all the internet sources hailing the flagrant distraction of Miley's performance at the VMAs, I was the viewer after the fact, and perhaps more contained in my shock factor awareness. MileyCyrus, the adult to be, is leveraging her media grabbing attention antics.

First, she wears pum pum shorts to a late night interview with Jimmy Kimmel. She is seen twerking around the internet. Then, much to our shocking dismay, she using a large phallic like foam finger to demonstrate her coming of age on stage behavior. By the way, pum pum shorts or batty riders, is a term used in the Caribbean to suggest that the garment known as shorts, is basically inches from being in the lost zone of reasonable comfort.
 
I would dare to suggest, that were that Rihanna or Nicki Minaj doing the same antics, there would not only have been censored screenings, the public outcry would have evoked the church leagues of righteous indignation to call for "burning at the stakes". The mothers of right-winged christian decency crusades would form coalition to ban sales of product. Sadly the curse of "those island people of debauchery" would be trending as the topic of good, bad, indecent, or skank behavior.

So Miley Cyrus is exhibiting Skank. Really! Do we expect, a rich, young, beautiful white girl to behave with such crudity and crassness? Hell to the No!!! Or is this just another influence of world crossover?

When Rihanna is on Bajan soil for Cropover, and the music fused with spirits, alcohol included, along with the momentum of unbridled energy, coupled with frenzied thousands of people bending over and wining on something, usually, another human being, it is natural.

During Carnival in Trinidad and Tobago, or for that matter, at any event, where dancing by both the performers and audiences include cavorting with twerking, twisting, twirling of bodies like there are rotators in the lower extremities, it is the norm.

Even, good ole Caribbean grandmothers, are prone to a sweet wine or roll on something, -- when the music and the rhythm take control. ( In other words, when in the video, as Robin Thicke is singing and MileyCyrus, rolls her body in arched revelry against him, that is called "roll on something.")

Alas! There is nothing new under the sun. Whether the Smiths' are wide eyed in shock dismay, or whether MileyCyrus is "Twerking" signature dance moves; guess what! She gets the desired results.
MileyCyrus, what you did at the VMAs is.....building your fame value with the millions of views and hits on all of social media worldwide.

What is your Treasure? ..Security or Self Worth.. A Look at the Value of Nothing.

Tyler Perry’s new show on the OWN Network deals with the privileges of the rich and the misfortunes of the poor.  Aptly titled #TheHaves and The HaveNots, the script of the show is based on experiences that differentiate how life challenges are played out in the contrasts of opposing circumstances.

The haves have more than enough and still crave more. The have nots are destined to lives of basic existence, at the mercy of their richer counterparts.

The ordeal of living the life of the have nots may be deemed unbearable and unworthy by those accustomed to being the haves . Whether misfortune occurs by incident or malady, there are jewels of discoveries that are hidden behind the hardship veneer of the “havenots”.

In a world where having is being, labels are used to define what constitutes having and not having.  There are many who have been richly endowed with talents of wealth and material worth.  The imagery of security and professional  titles are the claims to having worth.    In the amusement of having, what is overlooked and lost in translation, are core values and talents in the invisible of nothing.

While to have is a privilege, there are the greater opportunities that can only be found in the gifted space of not having. There is bounty in different measures that seeds quality manifestations. Buried in the wreckage of struggle and despair are transformative revelations.     Generosity in human interactions emerge as promised rescues.    Acts of spontaneous kindness are demonstrations of goodness, that surface in the darkness of despair moments.   Healing concern and encouraging support are restorative and soothing ministry of shared fellowship.  Token acts of civility  convey greater resource and lasting bounty, when shared in mutual sincerity and wholesome respect. These are the intangibles that are worth more than material value.

In the dichotomy of life, ‘not having’ recognizes that there is no security in material values associated with having. The measure of self worth is not based on acumen and worldly treasures. Worth has little to do with having.  There is dissonance and incongruence in the struggle between the haves and the have nots. Ultimately, having is not being.  

The distinction of Being comes in times of harvest and manifestation. When the well of resource is emptied, the material tangibles are superficial in content and value. Out of nothing, something of greater value unfolds. The capacity to Trust the unknown is a practice that can only be derived in the absence of security. The resilience to endure hardship is an intangible that is discovered in perils of obscurity. The exploration of new frontiers of self discovery is earned in the disruption of limitation.  

With the experience of the nothing, immediacy succumbs to patience. Problems and challenges are the toiled with perseverance and endurance. Value and self worth are built with stable resolve and informed compromise.

Everyone does not seek out the life experiences of Have Nots. Rather, it is more comfortable to bask in the comforts of the Haves. Why would anyone want to deliberately subject themselves to social, emotional and financial ruin? The error of having nothing is not an ambitious elective. However, there are insights to be found when faced with the encounter of Nothing.  

When unforeseen or unexpected circumstances occur and life changes are radically disruptive and unsettling, there is the invincible respite that is gleaned in the solace of nothingness.

Be grateful in "having" for there are blessings of abundance and bounty. Be also intimately assured that the treasures of lifetime rewards are rich in the purse of the "have nots" The value of self worth is built on merits earned when you have grasped the rewards of Nothing. The realization comes that in Nothing we find lasting reward.

The Wedding Vow " I do" is not about Me. What its all about? Shall We!!

With all due reality

 On Monday August 19, 1996,  I wrote the script titled "I do".  At that  time the idea of blogging was non existent. Also at the time, DOMA was not part of the social vocabulary.  With the right to marriage as a "hot trending topic" in current discussion, I find myself amused and entertained that the magnitude of the word "vow" has been my achilles heel, when it comes to the commitment of marriage.

With all due respect

In the words penned as a forethought to a marriage announcement by a close family member, I felt persuaded to deal with my own personal disposition on the subject.    I realized that my greatest discovery was that I had not yet discovered my own self.

As I witness the euphoria of the all the marrying newbies, I found my  "I do" testimonial.    If the inclination were to occur, and I in sound mind and body willingly entertain the sacred vow of marriage (again!), I have already prepared my "I do"  pledge.       It  shares my honest fears, concerns and deepest desires.

To say " I do" means that I am making an informed decision about who I am and my willingness to serve another being.  I accept the realization of my vulnerability.

 I need to commune emotionally, physically and spiritually with someone that love has chosen for me.  My feelings aren't clinical as to what  stimulates my responsiveness.  Love happens spontaneously.
 I may hear a song, see a flower, smell a fragrance, feel an inner stirring and even be moved to tears, and in my mind's eye, it is you.To say 'I do" I am acknowledging that i appreciate and respect you.  You are divinely unique, not perfect.  You are not an extension of me nor am I, of you.  i have dreams and desires and I ask you to enjoy what I offer.  I will not conveniently delight your tastes.  I am the selfish, the opinionated, the callous and also the fragile.  When I say unkind words and act displeasingly, I hurt me and inevitably hurt you also.  Our communion allows me to reflect in the solace of your love and understanding.I do is more than a ceremonial exercise.  I do is not entitlement.  I am not entitled to wear your ring, have your name  or bear your children.  I do is an awareness of the conviction that a new journey in my life is  about to begin.  In this journey, you are my chosen companion.  The task at hand is not the prospect of what lies ahead, but the ability to apply lessons learnt on tolerance, compassion, patience, steadfastness and kindness.I do does not erase problems, old habits, likes and dislikes.  I intend to share my whole self, not just the  good parts, but the parts that unfortunately, are unpleasant.

 In saying I do, I take responsibility for loving you as you are also.  As one of God's uniquely imperfect creatures, I seek to find and strive for what I perceive may be the best for me.  We are given the opportunity to discover more about ourselves and learn in the process.
In my discoveries, I may uncover that I am domineering, possessive, controlling and insensitive.  These are traits that are all a part of who I am.  I also, am affectionate, caring, passionate and loving, and with the "i do" I expose all my nakedness for your love and total consumption.
Here I am, I say "I do" knowingly, willingly  and lovingly.  This is my opportunity to surrender myself to another.  Each day that lies ahead, I will embrace and cherish as a gift given to me by God.  
"I do is my gift to you to share our moments with God entwined as our destiny

   

I  Do composed and written by G C Walker Monday August 19, 1996

Life Journeys; Enjoy the Unknowns, Leave Yesterday Behind and Find Bliss…within

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."― Ralph Waldo Emerson

On this journey called life, the value of a moment is as fleeting as the blink of an eye. Life is birthing renewal, constant and flowing. There are moments of turbulence, insecurity, disaster and despair. And within these intimate moments, life presents our greatest triumphs and successes. The rare gems of the precious turbulence are shrouded in mystery, beauty and bounty.

Within each of us, there are untapped reservoirs of limitless opportunity and potential. We lose the direction to our opportunities, because there are mishaps along the way. When we find ourselves at the point of question and doubt, it is in the potency of insecurity, fear and unwelcome disorder, that we discover our real internal compass. Often in our chaos and wretched misery, we stumble upon the value in the valley.

To traverse the roadways of life with all of its bitter sweet byways, and highways, one has to live through the momentary hardships called experience. One has to experience the shattered and brokenness. One has to know that there is promise and redemption.
When failures and roadblocks occur with far more frequency than you would like, and you enter into the tunnels of despair, without ready escape, there is an inevitable light in the far distant shadows. It beckons you proceed with caution.

I have cursed my fate. I have imagined that I would have achieved all the accomplishment of personal distinction. I have fantasized about the luxury of bounty. I have yearned for material bank and prosperity, with all its companion artifacts; home, car, money, travel, jewels, and precious valuables. I have felt despondent and discouraged. I have experienced doom in my own financial perils. However, the experience of naught has also been the nurturance of my highest worth.

While in the valley of nothing, life summons a pause. The remarkable virtue of poverty is to appreciate more of less. I became richer in my compassion, empathy, concern and consideration. In the trials and tribulations I have discovered respite in sanctuary, solace and bliss. These are the real riches.

Life is a journey not a destination(Emerson). Each traveler on this life journey has a very singular and individual map. As I course through the years of my sunset, I bask in the optimism of tomorrow. I do not dwell on the now of defeat which only fuels the weary. I am propelled in the energy of illustrious unknowns, adventure and promise.

Ecstasy, euphoria and intimacy are scopes of life adventures filled with delicate and intimate perfumes. I look forward to be fragranced in lusty embrace. Mystery, chance, opportunity and destiny are transformative and enchanting episodes in the pageantry of life. I anticipate more opportunities to unearth wisdoms. Looking ahead to the journey, I am cautiously optimistic. 

The guideposts marked with humor, sensitivity, life loves are celebration to my human existence.  Life continues to awaken excitement and fervor with tailored anticipation. Life is very subtle. It is a journey filled with conflict, contradiction and intrigue. We are all on the journey to inevitability, the end destination, comrade Death.

In the essence of the time we spend in our journey called life, I dare say, celebrate your most treasured commodity, the inimitable, the priceless, one and only, the presence of what we inhabit. Enjoy the unknowns, leave yesterday behind and find bliss…within.

Situations of ill begotten circumstances are pivotal routes in life called detours. From the perspective of personal experiences, these are the luminous travels that help shape the vision of a lifetime of rebirths and new beginnings.

The Writer's Block : The Process of Creative Distraction

http://pekoeblaze.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/2013-artwork-writers-block-sketch.jpg

Lest my posts go unnoticed, my writing has taken a leave of absence.


Every week for the last 5 months, I wrote; about something.   I have written about me, family, social media and even have contributed articles that have been successfully published on Yahoo voices.


As I perked in my writing efforts, I also notice, there has been a change in my tempo. I am having a slow spell in my writing creativity. I haven't submitted any new posts to blogs or articles in weeks.  The writer block affliction is upon me.

As many writers have shared,  writer's block  is a unique atrophy of the writing muscles, that comes when least desired. The uncomfortable paralysis of the silence of the writer is as dreaded as a repeat dereliction.   As with all maladies, there are prescriptive interventions.  And for interventions to be meaningful and successful, progressive actions must follow.   In the case of writer's block, the first step to progress is admittance.  The most effective treatment protocol is to be receptive to the insights and learning that come with silence.

For myself, the writer's block is like a temporary restraint in thoughts.   Has my writing voice gone silent?   I feel a sense of disconnect with my writing character. I question my credibility as a writer.   Am I having a flirt rendezvous with writing?   I wonder if other writers share similar experiences. Can I sustain my writing with passion, or is this a mere fleeting pastime?   These questions gnaw at me as I search for answers.    Truth be told, writer's block occurs with far more frequency, than the regularity of new scripts and ideas.

Writer's block is a common affliction that most writers will experience at one time or another  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Writer's_block#cite_note-Clark-1

In my effort to write this piece, I seek to gain perspective in transforming thoughts to words.   In scouring my mind for new ideas I hope to return from the writer in absence and reconcile with my writer in residence.   My inner writer is touring through many excuses and is seeking affirmation. Revise, rewrite, repeat are the continuous exercises of thought.  Juggle, balance, and streamline are the repeated messages of thought interceptions.  At times the mind games are filled with copious streams of information.  Until the information is ready, there are the constant interplays of withholding and release, and the waiting.

In the subtlety of no thoughts and words and waiting, there comes a script of insightful illumination.   Writer's block” is a transitional pause for the writer's inner voice to birth a flowering identity.    Ideas are constant and fertile. Even while there is the draught of  artful creativity in expression, the words are being germinated and when they have ripened they will bloom forth.

In the article,  The 10 types of Writers'Block and how to overcome them, there are two paragraphs that resonate with my personal writing anxiety of  loss for words:

 1.  'You can't come up with an idea' .."where you literally have a blank page and you keep typing and erasing, or just staring at the screen..." and;
10.  "You're revising your work, and you can't see your way past all those blocks of text you already wrote..."  The writer suggests much to my reassurance and relief, that the writer's block is "rather just the natural process of trying to diagnose what ails your novel"  in my case my blog.http://io9.com/5844988/the-10-types-of-writers-block-and-how-to-overcome-them

In December 2012, I began to write as a means of  venting.   I was immersed in the experiences of constant despair and challenge.    I was seeking emotional solace and sanctuary.  Writing introduced me to an inner place of emotional turmoil that needed expression. The outlet for my thoughts became blogs.

As a writer/blogger I am still searching for my personal voice.  The courtship with my writing pen is my most intimate indulgence.  Writing is where I share my heart, soul and all that matters.  Writing is my ever engaging, most mentally stimulating long term companion.

For me,  writing is as individual and unique as my own dna.   The thoughts that I speak to, and the way that I phrase them are distinctly personal.  My signature style of writing comes from who I am and how my conversation is translated into words.  I want to convey more than a script.  Whether I write on generic topics or on my own personal life situations, my writing contains and resembles the character that defines who I am.

As part of my growth in the field of writing, I anticipate that the routine of creativity will be peppered with the pauses and stops.  While the writer's block wreaks mental exhaustion, with the repeats of revisions, recreations, redrafts, and the redos, there comes refreshed and renewed results.

Every thought is an idea.  Every idea comes to life as crafted with the artful brush of a writer's pen.  There is unlimited talent in the art of writing and for every pause, every silence, every writer's block, a profusion of artists in numerous specialities emerge.  Creative process in writing is not for the instantaneous self applause and opportune adulation.   Sometimes, when there are the pauses, the void of no demonstration, thought has a place to find nurturance.

Luckily, the way I see it, the writer's block is a period of gestation to refine, enhance and allow the creative juices to come to full fruition.  The writer's block is pure creative distraction.

Initiate Thought, Provoke Discussion, Create Reason and Response and Call it a Blog

Blog writers initiate discussion that elicits thought, reason and response. At its nucleus, effective bloggers  write with artistic creativity. The staging process of a blog begins with the visualization of concept, context and theme.  Similar to the eye of an artist, the scripted ideas and thoughts of a blogger are paintings colored with words and text.

With social media,  the demand for bloggers has generated a powerful and growing industry of creative writer enthusiasts.   Bloggers and the artform of writing are flourishing.  Rather than specialty occupations in journalism, communications, public relations, marketing  and media relations, there is an overwhelming demand for blogger contributions beyond all business and social boundaries.

In observation, the merits of blogging,  and the value contribution to world societies in the artform of blogging is reason for study and researched understanding. With curiosity and fascination, I have been observing the glut of writers in social media engagement.  The profusion of writers about every topic imaginable is now radically viral.

In the industry of bloggers, the hills of writer's dreams and published aspirations are filled with interruptions, such as,  writer block, impasse and restructure in the climb to the top.  Blogger reflection and introspection ensue as I engage in the art of writing.  From early adolescence,  I wanted to be impressive as a writer.  In my uninformed style, I would use words bigger than my own imagination to make a simple statement, exhaustive and compound.  Luckily, my teachers, were quick to correct and admonish me for over excessive usage of "big words".  KISS, keep it simple stupid was my regular dose of writing medicine reality.  I uncover and recover and recreate art thoughts and posit them into words.  I continue to learn and gain perspective in social media examination.

Social media is invitation to craft thoughts, share with others and commune in circles.   Social media technology and all of its peripheral advantages  are driving innovation and creativity throughout the landscape of  written communications.  The art of writing has exploded exponentially.  In a convergence of the science of technology and the need to explain the theories and reasoning  for technologies, the rise of literary encyclopedia is rocketing beyond the unlimited, in social media blogosphere.

Prior to the 1990s, the term Blogger was non existent.  Diaries, journals, individual essays were the common products associated with writing.  As the web spread its spiral outreach to worldwide corners of the globe, the weblog of created articles were the original blogs. With multitudes of creative writer opportunities among the numerous social media platforms,  building and  growing connections, followers and communities are the return on investment (ROI)  for the career bloggers.

In  real time space and proximity of world communities, distance is merely  geographic location.  Instantaneous is as immediate as the blink of an eye.  In the marriage to technology advancement and the common sharing of a blogger, portals of  virtual exchange have been opened,  which have otherwise been non existent.   Transcontinental information travel is occurring with virtual speed of lightning.  The carriers are the many networked  web connections that provide links to indefinite realms of  opportunities.

In the course of becoming an avid and thriving blogger, I am always apprehensive about whether or not my content is authoritative and rich in marketability.  I am fielding and researching the value of adwords, and what text makes any adsense. With intentional humor,  my entry as a new blogger to the bloggersphere world, is filled with uncertainty and awkward deference.

The dilemma a new blogger faces is quite challenging.  Writing content and interaction must appeal to social media engagement audiences.  Whether to  blog about  personal life, social interests, career pursuits , fashion, cooking, photography, one must carve a niche market to win followers.    Followers become  communities.   Activity generated by comments  and  the number of reshares build the capital of  the writer's wealth in outreach.   Without the knowledge of  Search Engine Optimization (SEO) codes  and technology nuances, target audience appeal is limited.  Additionally,  content must also be recognized for word value.  The words that capture the  thread, stream, backlink are recognized in computer linguistics as a series of analytics that help increase content recognition.

 In order to thrive and stay relevant bloggers write without ceasing.    As a blogger contributor, ideas must be constructed and developed at a pace of constant and consistent delivery.    Topic titles are screened and evaluated on  keyword content through SEO and computer backlinks.  With all these requisites and attributes for successful blogging,  most  new bloggers face challenging  uphill odds.

A plethora of sites are crawling all over the internet, to invite writers to blog.  The blogger fantasy is that the topic that they share will automatically attract and generate booming results in readership and income returns.      Among the many blogger invitations to share are the sites promising fortunes for recruiting, enlisting and resharing of blogs.  In its appeal to targeted audiences, blogger entrepreneurship is now the most prolific enticement to generate bounty.

Bloggers are the prey  for the newest pyramid schemes.  The names of celebrity professionals, such as  Wayne Dyer,  Marianne Williamson, Oprah, Maya Angelou,  Louise Hay  are listed in title headings to entice and invite entrepreneur bloggers.   Their quotes are intentionally posted within the first sentences of text, which in turn generates volume readership.  Winning customers through social media baiting is another creative writing artform.

Social media is a frontier of many hills and valleys.  As seen in the Blogger Life Cycle illustration depicted at the top,  from thoughts and ideas, to frustration, to writers block to halo rise at the top, there is emotional commitment and enduring perseverance to "Call it a Blog".   In the halls of academia, where the fears that the soft studies would be trampled by the software and technology driven crusades, Writing Studies departments have been revived.   Technology in all of its most abstract and computer generated analytics have fueled demand for functional writing in communications.

In the midst of the gropes of technology, where every person on the internet is traceable, and information is always public, there is now a burgeoning boom of writing enthusiasts.  The art of blogging is an extension of the brain banks of multitudes of individual thinkers and thought leaders,

In the paintbrush of the artist a canvass reflects the indelible pictures in the portals of the mind.  In social media, the blogger creates a repository of ideas and words that paint and reflect, theme, thought, response and invitation.

For those in pursuit of the blogger mecca, put on your thinking caps.  Initiate Thought, Provoke Discussion, Create Reason and Response,  Write!  Share! Comment! Follow!   and Call it a Blog!

The Tall Man I have come to Know, Respect, Admire with MORE Love

This picture is a stamp of reflection and honor to: Andrew Walker, my father, Rose Walker, my mother, my brother Andre and his wife Grace Walker, my siblings, and my son Daryean and his Dad

His demeanor of authority, his moral conscience, his tireless devotion to duty, his unwavering individuality and his indestructible faith are the inherited wisdom trophies.   Through a lifetime of countless challenges and unknowns, he perseveres.  He is the most constant man of significance for all of my life.

As a child, I only knew him as a presence.  As far as I was concerned, he was tall and that's just the extent of my nine year old summation.    

He was my mother's arm of consolation,  her sole confidant, her finance minister, her angst monitor, her sorrow bearer, her discipline, sometimes corporal, most times, verbal mouthpiece.  He was also her devoted and effusively adoring son.

In the grief, the hopelessness and despair of widowhood at age forty nine, my mother's fears were reassuringly abated.  He did not abandon her.  From the death of my father at age fifty, each of my ten siblings and I, were protected and our lives were sheltered because of his honor, his devotion, his principle and his manhood.

At age twenty eight, newly married, with a growing family, he assumed the post of husband, partner, lover, lifetime companion till death do us part, to his young and beautiful wife.  To his mother and to each of us, he was the family benefactor by default.

From the age of nine through fifty seven, I have witnessed  demonstration of triumph through Grace.  In the line of siblings, he is the second child, first boy with five sister siblings.   With three more brothers, my fourth brother, a year younger than I, died at 3, and I, our intersecting lives were fairly distanced and separate in years and experiences.

On the day of my wedding in 1977, I was escorted up the aisle by him.  I felt that I would topple over because my knees were trembling and buckling .   In addition to the fact, my  3 inch spike heels were a balancing act by itself,  I was so reassured by the strength of his grip on my elbow.    I felt no greater honor than to be given away by him. His rendition of the Schubert Ave Maria at my wedding ceremony is an indelibly treasured memory.

Be our differences great or small, whether we clash on ideals or ideas, in spite of  our contradicting views, I have always known and cherished the gift of his fatherhood.  He has and always shared his talents, his nurturing and caring and more than any thoughts, his discipline and spiritual conviction.

Without my biological father, he became more than a father figure. He became my mother's saving Grace.  He shared his pocket, he shared his time, he shared  his advice and he shared the covenant of family.  

Sometimes we seek to have our children know that we have journeyed. The life lessons always birth new awakenings.   In my life, I have seen the gift of fatherhood, through the parenting by a mother.  I have also been cared for by all my siblings.  Each became my guardian through many phases of life experiences.  In the role of eldest son, the example of commitment to family, of duty to responsibility, and of untiring devotion to faith, are the most permanent and lasting gifts that I have received from my oldest brother. 

My gratitude is infinite and my love is greater than words.  Andre, my oldest brother, you are a father,  to my nephews and niece.    They now have taken the mantel of parenting to their own offspring.  In all of my years, I have always known your presence.  More than a brother, you continue to be the Our Father, to the prayers of all our ancestors, to the legacy of our father and mother, and to future generations.

For the man, who stands so tall and keeps me looking up, you are the example and the practice of  the word  "Father".  It is an understatement to say I love you.  Like my granddaughters say, I love you MORE.

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Happy Father's Day, my dear, dear brother.