Time

Time. 

It's a silly little thing that expands and contracts, sometime seemingly simultaneously.  It's also an illusion and a tangible thing held by hands or flashing symbols reminding us of what we have wasted and what we don't have enough of. 

Time.

It moves backwards using memories, forward using hopes and dreams, but it never stands still.

Time can never be a permanent thing. 

Time can show us when we were loved, when we loved, when we lost, and opens a space of the hopes of recovering what was once a valued possession.  Time is the only honest thing we have and lose in one breath. 

History is becoming as each second passes. The future is never reached. Only the present arrives and leaves in one breath. 

A breath. 

If we are granted, generously, about 75 years of changing seasons, the only things that are truly shared in humanity is the breath and the heart beats of a moment; sometimes syncopated,  but present nonetheless. In a moment, a breath, if noticed, can tell everything about who you are, who you were, and a glimpse into who you could be. Who you are meant to be is an ongoing mystery that is a lifelong discovery.  

Who could you be? 

A moments leaves a lot of what ifs on the table. 

Time.

For some, a moment is enough to absorb every logical though, rational decision, emotional reaction, every dream, doubt, fear, anticipation. A moment is overwhelming. In a moment you can feel certainty about your path and doubt about your decisions.  You can be glad to have loved and also wish you had never loved at all. The relief of heartbreak is indescribable to most but not to those who have settled into rejection like a warm plush blanket on a frosty winter evening. Hot cocoa anyone???

Time.

The asset/resource that can never be replenished. When it's gone, it's gone forever. Some say we live multiple lives and even then, one moment is not shared among them. Each stands alone. 

Some believe we are electric beings, comprised of the elements of the universe and when we depart from our physical form, our energy folds back into the universe, sometimes to return. My belief is aligned more with this theory. Maybe some call it heaven. Idk. I just hope my energy/spirit sees where my ashes travel to when I'm gone. Will my energy remember the love held, received, freely given, denied, and rejected or will all the things we wrestle with  dissipate never to be recalled? I wonder if we forget the pain as an added layer of protection which allows our souls to rest in peace. 

Only one way to know and time will take care of that when it is meant to. 

Who, what, or when was your truest love most known to you?

Has time allowed for healing or heald you hostage to a love that can never return to you? 

Time.

It isn't until it has zoomed by that you realize how fast 30 years can be. It isn't until you can say, "I remember when..." that you identify more with your reminiscent parents more than you ever had in your youth and young adult lives. I've been cursed by the word "legacy".  If regarding offspring, time has solidified that my legacy ends with me. No descendants.  That's not necessarily a bad or sad thing but it is a real thing. I'm not a mom. Will never be. I'm not a godmother. I'm an aunt without relationship to those I once cared for. I often wonder if I can remember when I chose this life. Did I choose this life? Am I a good friend? Have I ever been? 

I'm not a good friend. If I were, wouldnt I have some? Maybe. Maybe not. Time has shown me this subjective "truth" that tends to shift depending on the level of serotonin present. 

I'm just thinking aloud on a digital piece of paper. Idk

Time is to be revered but we treat it like we treat God. When we need it, it is all we can talk about but when we don't think of it, it is not considered a priority.  We're such foolish creatures. 

But back to time. 

Time. 

Does time really heal old wounds? Physically,  healing happens. Fully? Sometimes, no. This is also true with the heart wounds. We adjust life around the new version of who we become after heartbreak. It's like losing a loved one. We don't recover. We restructure. 

Admittedly,  I still hope time heals my heart. For all the breaking it experiences, I hope that it has endless restructuring plans. Complacency with rejection and heartbreak is never the goal but is it really that bad if it keeps you moving forward. 

🤷🏾‍♀️

(Forgive any typos.  I'm blind tonight and just needed to type with my thumbs.)

The "What ifs" of love.

The mistake many of us make is tying love to physical attraction, romance, and chemistry. I've been hearing a quote lately that says, "I do not choose love based on who you can have fun with, but who will stand with you when times are hard, when you are struggling, or at your lowest points." 

Granted, attraction is the draw that gets us to the point of wanting to know someone intimately (at least some times), but what next? Are you learning each other? Are you evolving together? Are you exploring the world together? Or are you relying on sex appeal to be the only thing that ties you together? Welp, news flash! Sex appeal can fade; not necessarily for everyone because (heh, heh, heh) Imma stay sexy even if it's in my own head. 

Shut up! 😒

Look, my chonky butt can be changed. Sex appeal is not always physical. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. 

Again, shut up. 😑

What is also interesting is that family and friend relationships can also follow an "image alliance" mindset. I just made that up, but stay with me.  

Some people (me) examine relationships and how people treat others based on a myriad of factors. Looks, empathy, attraction, confidence, compatibility, chemistry; the list can go on and on. 

I am complex. I'm not saying I am uniquely complex or more complex than anyone else. Just...complex. 

Let's talk about love letters.

Remember when you liked someone so much, you wrote actual words on a piece of processed tree with your actual hands and held your breath with hungry and frightenin anticipation of their response. Or the random phone call because your friend's friend had their number and you worked up the nerve wracking courage to call them? 

Shooting your shot was much different in the late 80s and 90s. Even if you were terrified, you had at least one friend who pressured you to say something. Sometimes that "friend" was good intentioned, and sometimes, yeah, they wanted to set you up. I experienced the latter. Stupid teenagers. 

As a teen, young adult, and now an old lady (Yep! I'm claiming it.), I've tried to see into my future (hope and dreams...blah) to how my life could possibly turn out. Well, I'm in the future of my past and let me tell you, "life for me ain't been no crystal stairs", Howeveeeeeer, in retrospect, I realize the withered rickety wooden staircase I've climbed to carefully get here has been and continue to be a series of lessons I've never asked for but, at some point, become mandatory wisdom to navigate this great and sometimes bullshit existence.  Either way, I'm here. 

Recently,  I've examined my relationships (romantic,  platonic,  and familial) and the more I reminisce about my younger me (grown grown pre-adult) and how I envisioned my future, I've only ever seen me. Yeah, at some points I thought, hey maybe I'll find my person and we'll ride out this foolish timeline together but with love. That vision never really stuck for me. I look at how communication has played a part in how relationships develop and to tell the truth, what used to be felt in and through love letters just isn't  the same as it once was. Maybe we weren't mature enough to know that the letters on the pages of our youth were no comparison to the conditioning if our adulthood. Our lifetime has been conditioning. From the first "no" were are taught as a baby to the belief systems we are brought into, to the societal expectations that so many people believe they have to adhere to. From who to love, how to act, how we move; I often wonder do we really have free will or choices when our decisions are based on how we fit in with society? IDK but I'm learning that most of us that don't fit the mode society expects us to, are often single and actually okay with it. 

Here's the thing, SOME PEOPLE 🙋🏾‍♀️ would love to be in relationships,  however, we can take it or leave it. If we choose love with someone else, especially a cancerian such as myself, it can be amazing.  If I choose to leave it, oh, I can pamper and cater to my own needs, be self aware, tap into my spiritual energy and still be kind and in service to other who need true empathy and compassion. Whatever happens in my weird future, I'll be fine. All I know is that who ever is up next, I hope they write love letters. ❤️ 😏 No, not "WYD?" texts. Not "What you wearing?" texts. Not,"send me some pics of you playing with yourself." Because Im going to send pics  of my playing UNO by myslef with two hands. And not pics of 🍆s. I had a whole folder of the history of unsolicited 🍆 pics. No pretentious messages trying to prove you know everything. What you know will simply come out in conversations. Love Letters. 

Finding love is not just telling someone what they mean to you or what type of person you're looking for. You know, that checklist people have? 

Pause...

*It's not lost on me that everything I'm writing seems like a checklist. It's not. Just observations.  

...resume.

Love Letters are uninhibited expressions of affection (not always sexual. Clean yo mind!!!) What I mean by uninhibited is being so secure in your autonomy to choose who to love without consideration of what others will think or say; basically, no fear of judgements. I am acutely aware that with loving me come judgement. In my engagements, I've learned that being  convenient was the benefit. Love? As long as I don't fall in love. What I've learned, in my experience,  is that they (the guy of fell on any part of my timeline) never wanted me to fall in love, not really. They wanted access and an allowance of a time monopoly at their discretion. The lack of my desperation foiled their plans. 

Okay, wait. Back to love letters. Lol

Remember, if you will, the stories of soldiers in foreign wars, thousands of miles from home in a foxhole, fighting adversaries to their nation. All of that and they had pen and paper and wrote love letters to their "gals", wives and girlfriends back at home.

Bammas today can even text "Hey. Thinking about you." Literally 10 seconds.  

But I digress. 🙄😪

Love Letters are still cool. I'm GenX so yeah. They're still valued and as I think of potential future probably partners, I don't think I have no real hard-lined perspective.  These days are way more free flowing than before. 

OOOOOOOH! I did a Hint sketched soulmate thingies. 🤣🤣🤣 Wanna see him? Smh

Know this, a soul mate does not equate to a romantic love of your life or future love. Even if they aren't romantic, friends can write love or loving letter. We all wanna know someone somewhere love us with reciprocity. 

How are you loving and do you feel that love returned? 

That's it. Lmao that's all I got. 

~Stay TRU💋

It's there. You just buried it.

Go get your shovel. You have work to do.

(This is going to feel random but stick with me. 😉😉😉)

Okay, Let's say on average, we all get 75 summers, falls, winters, and springs. Reality dictates that there are too many variables  that could shorten or lengthen that time but for the sake of the blog, let's give us a solid 75 years. 

I am 52 (July) so that means I got about 23 cycles left. When you think of it that way, that's not a lot of time. What's interesting is that even with this knowledge of our finite timeline in this realm of existence, WE STILL WASTE TIME WITH BULLSHIT THAT DOESN'T MATTER. 

(okay, I'm composed...maybe)

I'm losing people and the truth of the matter is the longer you live, the more people you will have to say goodbye to. My dad is 86yo and he has seen his parents depart, all of his siblings he grew up with depart, life long friends and family, even his children's friends who have passes on that he considered his extra kids, he has said goodbye to so many people. People can look at it as a blessing of long life or the sadness of long life. Both are valid. 

This post, however, isn't necessarily about how long we may have left but what we do with the time we have left. Morbid convo? Not really but it can be sobering. No one wants to think about our exit from this life but it is an inevitability that no one who has ever been born will escape. I try to think of end of life as completing the mission I was sent here to complete. Granted, the mission will end no matter what we've accomplished or wish we could have done so at some point, regrets are useless and living to accommodate others is pretty ridiculous in the grand scope of life. I was thinking about a creative project I completed in 2021 with a friend and how much fun it was managing the process.  I want to do more of this but time is getting away from us and prioritizing projects, for me, has been tough but I hope to get better at not trying to do every thing all the time. The project we started is called HAPPY GOES THE DAY about a young professional, Magnolia, and her band of merry homies. Her sister Jaymes, and coworker Crissa are my favorite characters. lol I've written more scripts but the team needs to coordinate schedules and contracts to keep them going. That's just an example of one creative thing I want to do and not feel like I'm prioritizing it over something more important or something perceived to be more important. I get to determine what is priority and I'm starting to appreciate that more each day.  

Basically, the time I have left, however much that will be, needs to be spent doing what I love doing, helping others, creating, and enjoying expanding my creative energy. I really hope to connect with the team of creatives and innovators to make my nonprofit come to fruition. This has been an objective for me for many years but the thoughts about starting it have become more concentrated over the last decade. I realize that I have actually lived much of what I've dreamed about, thought how those dreams are manifested looks weird sometimes but... still. I dreamed and worked to get my BA degree without paying any more money out of pocket because I've paid so much over the decades. Well, that happened. Georgetown University, Class of '22. Started my masters but realized the program I was in was not my vibe. It wasn't a good fit but I was willing to keep going. After leaving an executive role at Georgetown and moving away, I needed a hiatus. How many people say "I just need to not work for a while but I can't just stop." Well, I did. Two years rest. Granted, I have coached and did some workshop facilitation after I left but I was able to sit on my deck, with a drink, a cigar, my dog by my side and watch the trees, listen to the birds, and at night, watch a sky full of starts I couldn't have seen in DC. 

I desire to tap into my creative self and become more engaged in the arts. I wanted to change my environment so that I can be creatively nourished after years of creative dehydration. Now, in September, I start my second masters program at the Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD). The day after I enrolled last week, I took advantage of a watercolor and different medium technique workshop. It was awesome!!! Sometimes, even in challenging times, I have to reflect on where I am and ask myself, "Regardless of what it feels like, am I living inside of my dream or what I requested of the universe?" I must say "Yes!" It's tough but I wanted to leave DC. I'm out. I wanted to get some rest. Rested. I wanted to go back to a creative school and yep. I'm coaching, and finally starting my nonprofit for young creatives and innovators. It's been on my mind to head to Savannah before finishing my grad program at SCAD. I can go to the Atlanta campus but Savannah is calling me. We'll see. I know my nonprofit would benefit from the concentration of artists and creative innovators there. We'll see. 

Life is not always easy, fair, kind, or logical, but as long as life keeps lifing, we can make parts of it beautiful. 

I hope you're living inside of your dreams.

~Stay TRU💋

Artists & Innovators Leadership Project: Living a life of purpose and paying it forward

Go Fund Me for the journey to AILP

I’m always working even when it seems like I’m not, and I go underground for a while. Work is happening, and I'm making progress. Sometimes moving forward requires you to look back to see what could have been done better and to consider what we wish we'd done. You know. Those deferred dreams. But before I focus on making an impact in business, technology, or even education, I want to start with the human conditions that create the changes we desire to see in the world. I am making strides with the creation of my nonprofit organization, Artists & Innovators Leadership Program (AILP) (fundraiser link below), which creates programs that will foster support networks for young artists and future entrepreneurs. This takes a lot of time, energy, resources, and dedication. 

Love looks different sometimes

 by TRU Ess

When I collapse into myself

A savior isn't always the answer

Not always is it necessary to save me

I don't need them to say "It will be okay." 

Sometimes, love looks like their tears intermingling with mine

Sometimes, love doesn't need you to be strong

Sometimes, love needs to fall with the knowledge that I can get back up 

But this moment requires quiet stillness 

with the softness of a paired heart that may not understand completely 

but holds space for the weakness of the moment

love, sometimes, looks like the covering of brokenness 

without the need for reassembly to erase what brokenness looks like

Sometimes, love doesn't look like forcing things to fit

Sometimes, love looks like scattered pieces that, in the scattering, 

create an unfocused image of beauty

Sometimes, love has to look different when we are transforming how we understand ourselves in the world

Sometimes, love isn't a held hand

It's a closed door, and a shared seat by the window as the storm rages outside

Sometimes, love is a glance of understanding as debris flies by in chaos

Sometimes, love is shared in the messiness of who we are trying to become

And sometimes, love just looks different because we are no longer the same as we were

When love looked safe

Grief is not just about physical loss

Some of our most prolific insights come to us at the most random times. The topic of grief has been consistent for me the last few days so, yep. Imma write about it.