How deeply have you considered how you came to be.
When you truly think on it, on how consciousness works, and how it started, you must come to the conclusions hat we have one consciousness.
Which leads to the terrifying and dangerous yet peaceful thought that we all are one. Not only in consciousness, but in body.
If we all started in the same thought, then if we allow ourselves to break down our walls that have been created through the years, walls that created individual humans, we come back to the oneness that is us. And if we allow ourselves to hear the thoughts of others, and consider the fact that we are not just ourselves, it will bring us both to the conclusion, but also the start of humanity. Being the thought that the first shall be last and the last shall be first/treat others how you want to be treated/ we are the body.
Every major religious experience will lead you to this idea. That we are one. But it stops at the UNDERSTANDING that we are actually the body. People as humans understand the IDEA and the control that we are connected. But fail to take it any step further. Because it blows the mind. It pushes the boundaries of humanity, and individuality. We are here on this earth to have our own experiences and perceptions and ideas. But once we understand that we are actually one… you revert back to a God standing.
So. How do you live a life on earth, with this knowledge?
Lol. Let me tell you, it’s not easy. It’s many out of body experiences. Floating between my human being and others. Experiencing moments from their perspective at moments of relaxation and it brings fear but also…. peace.
If I can do that… what do I have to fear? Ultimately nothing can hurt me, since I am just a projection of my thoughts, which can change at anytime. It causes me to treat people differently knowing that the truths I say outwardly will be one thing, but also the thoughts I keep within will be revealed at one point one way or another. It has helped me acknowledge that nothing is hidden forever. And that we are all accountable to each other, as each other is one.
Play attention to what the world around you is telling you. The clues left for you. You won’t lead yourself astray.
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.
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. 😑
Real quick personal post…. hahaha which of my posts aren’t personal, this whole blog is my life story lol. But anyways quick is my point. I’ve made a semi dedicated goal (let’s get real, all my goals are half assed, but let’s see where this one gets me) to get more in shape. Not a New Years resolution, but just something I’ve been complaining about for months and I now have the energy to deal with. So I went back to the gym today and got a body scan done before my workout by the trainer for starting reference and the results surprised me.
So in my head I had a good 50 lbs to lose and I’d be ‘happy’ or at least I feel I’d be more/most comfortable with my body. I’m not 100% sure since I’ve never been that kinda weight my whole adult life. Since all my recent fluctuations I’m now officially back up to 225 lbs. Not something I’m proud of but it is what it is. My goal was always the 170-180 range. I’m 5’9 pushing 5’10 and I felt that was reasonable, but wanted to feel it out along the way. I’m in no way now, nor have I ever been considered petite or small framed. I’m big. Which is just fact. Like I have curly hair. I’m fat. Nothing good or bad either way.
Anyways, one of the trainers at the gym did this scan to figure out weight vs. body fat and muscle etc, and the main thing that stood out to me is that right now I’m at 21% body fat which is less than 50 lbs. And my muscle mass was crazy high in comparison. So I thought being a certain weight would change everything, but this scan made me realize how deeply weight is I only a number. If I get down to my ‘goal weight’ there’s a high possibility that I start to deplete muscle mass which I’ve worked hard to gain. So it just led me to discover that yes, I’m overweight but I’m also quite strong, which I knew. It helped me recognize the work I’ve done so far at the gym has been not in vain and also that sometimes numbers on the scale are just that… numbers.
So while I do still want to lose weight, I think it’s more of a focus on body shape and my image of myself as opposed to just reaching an arbitrary number on the scale. I want to be healthier and mainly I want to be happier. Happier when I try on clothes and they fit the way I want them to. I can’t do anything about every god damn pair of jeans being to short, but I can change how my massive muffin top/beer belly hangs over the front. I can’t change how saggy my boobs are after nursing two kids and the fact that ones more saggy than the other, but I can tone up and be able to have more choices in bras in stock since I won’t only fit the absolute largest one. I can’t do anything about my stretch marks, but I can tighten up my tummy so they aren’t stretched to the max still. So as much as I’m not NOT impressed with my body, there ARE things I can do to improve it. I guess I just needed today to show me how far I have come already and the possibility that my goal of seeing a certain weight reflected on the scale was an unhealthy one. Each body is different and I learned my body is far stronger than I give it credit for. And although I’m not gonna win Miss Universe anytime soon ever, I’m also not going to be blown over in the next breeze and I can be counted on to help you move your couch… and I’m not just talking about holding the door open. This chicks got muscles 💪🏽.
When you sit back and think about it, we all had to come from somewhere. Someone somehow we are all connected. I know it’s not a thought we all consider on the daily, but logically, this earth didn’t just appear yesterday functioning at this level of consciousness and efficiency that we are at today. Which leads me to wonder, when did it start, and from where, which leads to the only logical consideration that no matter what you believe as far as a creation standpoint, it will start at some point. Lending to the argument that we all, weather we like it or not, weather we want it or not, we all started at the same point. Not us in our physical bodies as we stand today, but as the very least the creation of either our thought or our soul or whatever you may call it.
So, if we were all “created” or “started” at the same “time” or within the same breathe or choose the same moment to begin, or whatever you believe or whichever path your thoughts took long ago, it really makes no difference what journey your thoughts took, what matters is that in this moment, we are here together, and we, logically thinking and speaking, all began in the exact same moment.
Have we had the exact same experiences since that time? Of course not. This journey is just that. A journey. With each of us individually afforded our own choices and decision making skills. Throughout the infinite history, it has brought our bodies to this point in time, where we can acknowledge the grandeur of our past and move on, or rest in our souls accomplishments thus far. Has your body completed what it wanted to when it first set out? Were you part of the decision making process to decide grass was green or the earth would rotate a certain direction or maybe your thoughts took the journey to decide the sun would burn hot instead of freeze cold.
And now we’re here. What are your thoughts actively partaking in? Are you thinking universal as you might have once done? Or have you narrowed your mind to just think simply of your bodies day to day activity?
They say ” God” is the body, the thought and the mind…. a do your u hear what I hear type thing. So when you lay in bed at night, have you closed your thoughts down to hear only “you” over the years, decades, even possible lifetimes you have lived? Or do you put your body to rest, and then just breathe. And relax your own thinking to slow down and hear the thoughts of others. Or on the other hand, are the thoughts you project into the world hindering the progression of what weave made thus far? Or contributing?
Or, the most fearsome consideration yet, have we all become so worn down by what we’ve created, that we’ve given up and we are all ready to go back to our original form. A much simpler, more loving, even God like form. Once we reconcile our lives and our souls can rest, we make that choice to. Instead of coming back to this projected perceived world, we make our final choice to rest our soul for good. We remove our thoughts and we, as an individual are no more. No more thought. No more chances. Just done.
Chosen one person at a time, will leave this world with many broken souls who didn’t know they had the chance to choose. Not somewhere I’d like to be, but once my soul is done, not something I will have knowledge of either way..
Correction. I remember exactly one lunch recess where I was playing tag and pushed a boy off some wooden play structure. He ended up breaking his arm… my bad. But I distinctly remember when my red curly-haired teacher who was on supervision carried him from the playground to the office and it was in that moment I thought she was the strongest person I knew and I decided I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up. I was in awe that someone carried a kid my age, because I obviously didn’t get held much at home anymore, but also that a relative stranger would so easily embrace someone else’s child. I never thought it was possible, yet I thought it was so beautiful.
Things have changed by now. Oh I went after high school and started University to get my teaching degree. But I sucked at it. Actually I just no longer cared. I skipped 60% of my classes and didn’t turn in a single assignment. I was put on academic probation my first year (which I told my mom was due to my seizures, actually she pretty much thought that up all on her own and I just went with it). Part of that was maybe true, but more honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it. I was only doing it because I felt it was “the right thing” Not the right thing as in it felt right, but the right thing as in I’d been telling everyone I wanted to be a teacher ever since I was like 6 years old so I’d only be lying to myself if I changed it after so long.
But is it fair to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life when you’re a child? And then to be held to that standard because “Oh you’d be such a good teacher” and “well you’ve always wanted to be a teacher” were phrases you’d been hearing for the better part of a dozen years? Only to realize 3/4 of the way through my degree, that I would be a terrible teacher.
I would be fine if it actually came down to it, I mean I could do anything, let’s be honest. But I just really, really, really didn’t want to do it anymore. So here I was 3 years out of a 4 year degree under my belt, that had taken me about 6 years to get this far, between saving for school and marriage and travel etc, and I decided I was done trying.
Probably for the best.
All those little kids are better off with all those kind, caring, thoughtful teachers anyways.
So I quit. It may have seemed like marriage was the issue. Or becoming a mom was the reason. And it was a major reason. A major excuse in the very least. Once I had my own kids I became more honest with myself in that I really didn’t want to teach other kids all day and then come home and still have more left of me to give to my own kids. I think I was looking for a reason to quit and my kids and my life situation in leaving E gave me that. It gave me a reason to start fresh.
It gave me a chance to start school again. And find a career that makes good money yeah, but I’m still not feeling fulfilled.
It’s hard to take risks when I have two little kids depending on me. Not that I know what risk I would take if I could, but I’m just saying I kinda feel like I’m in the same rut I was in after high school. I’m just doing what I’m doing because it was what was “best” for me. It seemed “smartest”. It seemed like the “right” move. But I don’t know if I’m being authentically C.
I don’t feel happy.
I feel like this life was chosen for me when I was a child and I’m just going along with the flow. But I don’t want to anymore.
If I was more honest. More true to me, I would say I want to travel. I want to write. Books. Music for others. I want to remain nameless. I never want to be famous. I want to be happy. I don’t want to work under anyone, but I want to have freedom in my expression. But I’m scared. Because those steps don’t seem easy. The steps to be that person haven’t been planned out since I was a kid so I don’t know how to start it now. It doesn’t seem like “the Plan”
So I’m nervous and scared.
Lazy and very unsure of what to do to become the person I think is the true C.
Because I’ve never been her before. So what if I fail?
What if the steps I take are wrong and instead of becoming a more successful version of me, I fail and therefore I’m further back than I am now? I’m not that person. I don’t take those risks. I’m the type of person who follows plans I made when I was 6…. just because plans are plans, and I don’t know how to deviate from that.
What if I make new plans and become even more unlovable than I am now?
That’s my greatest fear.
To make new plans that fuck up my life even more than it already is. Because I’m barely holding on as is.