Thoughts

A few weeks ago I was laying in bed and relaxing before going to sleep and calming my breathing and thought patterns as has become my habit lately. Also something that has become part of my life is thinking of K too much. I try to avoid it as much as possible. I pushed thought of him as far I could. Sometimes thoughts of him would come, but it’s wasn’t so much thoughts of him so much as thoughts from him. And sometimes I figured what’s the harm of enjoying what little of him I had in my life? And I would allow the thoughts from him to hold me while I slept at night or tell me he loved me… things like that. But a few weeks ago, as I was relaxing, and getting rid of my thoughts from the day and releasing unwanted emotions and energy etc, all of a sudden I was just a thought. I wasn’t even in my room or on my bed. Me, in my whole entirety as C, was represented as only a thought. I had no weight of the world holding me down. No previous emotions or situations keeping me here. I was just so in that moment that I was singularly that thought of Me. And I was with the singular thought that represents K. And we talked.

And then to reform my world was a slow scary step by step process. What should I do first? How should I move to ‘rebecome’ C? The room and remembrance of where I was on my bed in Kelowna took place first. And then from there the whole world as it was just sort of fell into place in my memory as I reached slowly for a drink or water. The whole time thinking is this the right move to make? Or should I be recreating this scene differently? Am I fucking up all of my future? Or is this predestined already? Anyways. I laid back on my bed and went to sleep almost immediately, and dreamt of K which at this point is normal.

What was not normal? K called me the next day. After all this time.

Up until now, I could basically play it off like this was all in my head and I’m just a girl who was way to in love with a guy. But when he called the next day and said he was thinking of me the night before… a lot. And that he’d been thinking of me a lot all the time? It was both a relief and a stress.

Now this is real real. Like now I can’t just play it off like this is only in my head. Now he’s obviously connected to me too. I explained what happened to me (kinda, I mean how do you explain this) expecting him to have experienced the same, but was disappointed when he said no, he just heard my name said over and over so loud and clear in his head. I asked him who’s voice it sounded like and he said his own. So either he’s downplayed what happened to him, or he’s not experiencing things as deeply as I am, in which case lucky him because this shit is scary. When the whole universe dissolves enough to bring your being close enough to someone else’s so they hear your name, but then the reality is recreated like no biggie? How else do you describe it other than terrifying?

And how do I move on from here? It’s not like there’s a textbook full of studies on the subject. When you’ve discovered something this mind blowing and new, it’s…. well mind blowing and new. So I’m at a loss.

A loss so big it’s leaving me feeling very alone and helpless. Because I literally feel like there is no one to turn to for support, as this is not something that’s been dealt with before and the person I’m supposedly going through it with, is not even as deep as I am.

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I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

Leaving To Find My Soul Told Her I Had To Go And I Know It Ain’t Pretty When Our Hearts Get Broke

The fact that I am alive is proof enough that I am a God.

No one can confirm for sure how the world started.  Not when or how or at what point, which leaves it wide open for interpretation on exactly how or why we got to this place in history or the present place in the universe.

Did we come with a purpose? I believe so. Once being to discover the fact that just being here makes our journey complete. We fundamentally have made it by making ourselves. We came. We saw. We each individually have essentially conquered the obstacles of creation by mutually not only choosing to co-exist but at the same time to create the same reality we all choose to collectively perceive and view as real or life if you will.  That fact, in and of itself makes us all God, or a portion of ‘God’ or a ‘soul’ on the outside, all jointly looking in on this world we have created and living out through human existence.

Many over the course of this dynamic perception have  tried to explain this phenomenon. Some use science to get closer to the answer. Some simply trust in the unknown God/deity they choose to represent the beginning. Other pure and simple refuse to acknowledge that question at all, which leads them not searching for an answer. In fact the large majority of today’s population have been satisfied with just living that they have no desire to wonder how their life came into being in the first place. They have become complacent. The are satisfied with a big bang, or a creation, but when it comes down to it, humans are afraid to dig deeper. Since when you try to truly uncover further into the origins of not only the world, but yourself, it will leave you looking starkly at one thing and one thing only.

No matter which theory you align yourself with, we all started at the same place. All at the same time. When I say ‘we’ I don’t mean on the surface level of the life ‘we’ live as you read this. I dive deep into us as a humanity and a universal perception.

The creation of this reality had to start in A moment. Where we all collectively branched out on our own journeys to create at will. Maybe we went from one to a million in an instant big bang style. Maybe ‘we’ collectively planned our futures and our memories and agreed we would just agreed to have thoughts and memories that extended so far back to create a reality and at the count of three wake up one morning go on our way. Maybe ‘we’ split in two and then four and then eight etc, like a baby in the womb. Maybe, we did all of the above, and agreed to each carry a different version of the conception deep in our thoughts hidden in so many lifetimes. This would help us to never return to the loneliness of being one together, since we knew we would never allow our views to change once spread so vast and becoming so hardened.

But once spread out and functioning as a world as we are now, what if two or more individual humans began to think as one again on such a level that they shared this kind of information? What would it do to the origins of the entire perception of the world? It could destroy it. It could destroy the original ‘creation’ that came from thinking independently. The separation and joy and individuality that came from the creation, that allowance to have different thought processes and different opinions that would have never occurred had we all remained as one, would be wiped out. We would return to that being of oneness.

So the fact that from the source and the beginning there are differences should bring the most joy as well as enlightenment. Joy to know the source of this world had knowledge to discover it must become different in order to expand and create eventual life. And enlightenment to acknowledge that you are a byproduct of that source.

This empowering knowledge lends to the discovery that along the way our thoughts at one point in the past were connected. Before we became so focused on the perception of this tangible reality, we were all connected and intermingled not as humans, but as souls, or thoughts. So if we did it before, lived as one in a bodyless haven, why should we limit ourselves to the possibility of creating this reality or perception we see every day, and focus instead on uncreating or returning to that for our souls.

I’m not suggesting it will happen overnight, as many indiscretions have been made against each other or each soul or thought process throughout this creation process since our infinite decision long ago to part ways. It will take many conscious repairs to mend bonds that were broken along the way, but can be made easier with the knowledge that we are all the source and the beginning, and therefore we all originally had intentions of creating a reality. Did we know exactly how it would turn out? No because we gave each other the freedom to create and be individuals. But with the brokenness, we may not feel like it on the surface, but our souls are longing for healing.

We are all longing to come back home to ourselves as one. Where we all began.

 

-Macklemore / These Days-

 

We Gon’ Party Like It’s Your Birthday And You Know We Don’t Give A Fuck It’s Not Your Birthday!

Yesterday was my birthday.

I feel like that’s all that needs to be said. Since my day was as lame as that sentence.

I “celebrated” 31 years of life by just making it through the day.

No cake.

No gifts.

No flowers.

No nothing.

No one even told me Happy Birthday to my face until I lost my temper with little E over something petty at night and raised my voice (which I hardly do), and so I had to apologize to him. I explained that even though it wasn’t an excuse, I was feeling frustrated that it was my birthday and I had had a bad day, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on him. So that made him cry and then it made me cry and that made me feel even more shitty. All because I was feeling sorry for myself.

So I called him over and gave him a hug and he explained that he felt bad for not saying Happy Birthday and I told him I wasn’t mad at him at all, I was just pouting. So we hugged and that was my one “Happy Birthday” all day.

It’s stupid and pathetic, and normally I don’t make a big deal about my birthday anyways, but this year I thought it might be different.

It wasn’t.

And the reality of that hurt more than anything I could imagine.


-50 Cent/In Da Club-

I Put My Feelings On Safety So I Don’t Go Shootin’ Where Your Heart Be

Those phone calls threw me for a major loop.

I’ve been doing my best in moving on from K. Settling in here in Kelowna, trying to forget. But those calls brought back all the memories I was trying to put behind me. All the pain and feelings of not being good enough. So I needed a distraction.

And therefore obviously did the stupidest thing I could have, but I called up a one nighter again.  Of course he swung by Saturday night with drinks and I did what I always do when I’m trying to avoid life, we fucked. But mid-thrust, I started crying. No joke you guys.

I started crying because this guy wasn’t K. And even worse than that, I started crying because I really truly understood in that moment that K was never coming.

K is never going to come sweep me off my feet.

K is never going to fulfill any of his promises he made to me to love me.

K is not the man I thought he was.

K can’t love me how I thought he would.

And so it hit me dead on while this dick was fucking me from behind, that I hated him. Both K and this random guy. I hated all of them. And I started bawling. So of course this guy was trying to console me because he’s obviously freaking out that the chick he’s banging is crying for no apparent reason, so he made the massive mistake of asking what was wrong? So then I just started pouring it out. ALLLL of it. Pour unfortunate soul.

Everything gushed out. How I loved this guy with everything I had, and he broke my heart and I feel I’m to broken to be loved now. And how I really honestly truly thought this guy would still keep his word and come through. For me. For my kids. For us. Because I thought he felt the same way. Because he told me he felt the same way. Because he showed me he felt the same way. So if he felt it so deeply for me, then how can he not be feeling similar to how I’ve been feeling? How can he not be hurting too? And if he was/is possibly hurting in the same way, and he knows the ball is in his court, why the fuck would he keep it there and not make a move towards making things better for both of us?

Because he must not have ever felt the same way about me.

So I need to stop imagining stupid scenarios in my head where he keeps his word.

No man has ever…… I dunno how to explain it. No man has ever just done what they said they were going to do? Stayed with me. Loved me. Been true to their word. Why should K be any different?

So I managed to stop crying enough for the random one nighter (that’s a lie, it was his second time… I had him over about 2 months ago, which is why I had his number) anyways, he’s all like, don’t think about him anymore, I’ll treat you good, etc etc. You know all the socially acceptable things you would say to a girl who broke down crying right in the throws of everything, juices dripping and all. So I just told him to wrap it up and head out the door.

I wasn’t then, nor do I think will I be anytime soon, in the mood for sex. He’s honestly been the second guy I’ve slept with here where all I could think about was K, and that’s not fair to them. I’ve never had this issue before.

In the past, I was able to just get all my sexual needs satisfied, and move on for the day. I was too good at it in fact. But now I just see K’s face, or I’m comparing tactics or, well just about everything they do, I’m comparing to how K would’ve done it. And it’s not good enough.

And I hate it.

Because I know he’s out there enjoying his life and I’m stuck here. In this emotional state that I never wanted to be in. That I tried avoiding SOOO many times, but he kept pushing me deeper and deeper into, and he’s not even here to catch me.

I hate him.

And myself. For FALLING too far in love. To a point I don’t know how to get out of.

Doesn’t help that T, the prison guy keeps calling and I feel like I enjoy the chats in general, but he keeps pushing for info on K/G, and how I know him etc but I just don’t wanna talk about him. I wanna just talk on the phone to someone about life. Life without K/G.


-Ella Mae/Trip-