ClevaWords

In the past, I've blogged about having bulimia, the struggles of recovering through tough times like my mother's death and unemployment, and finally admitting it to the world that this is my issue.  I'm a recovering bulimic. I'm not ashamed. I'm not embarrassed. Later, I started to notice other aspects of my behavior that easily could have always been there but I wasn't paying attention.  I knew it was some sort of anxiety disorder because I needed things in a certain way, I needed to control situations around me. I needed to have controlled order.  What was going on? After speaking with doctor, she said, "You have low level OCD".  I'm like, "What?"   I don't touch things over and over.  I don't obessive clean [wish I did].  What did she say that? My racing thoughts and my workholism were indicators.  I feel horrible not doing some sort of work and this does get in my way of enjoying life at times.  At the same time, I've

I discovered this poem from Indiana native Etheridge Knight and fell in love with it.  I will NEVER call myself a poet but I appreciate greatly  the wondrous phrasing and expressive nature of the poets pen.  Shiny record albums scattered over the living room floor, reflecting light from the lamp, sharp reflections that hurt my eyes as I watch you, squatting among the platters, the beer foam making mustaches on your lips. And, too, the shadows on your cheeks from your long lashes fascinate me--almost as much as the dimples in your cheeks, your arms and your legs. You hum along with Mathis--how you love Mathis! with his burnished hair and quicksilver voice that dances among the stars and whirls through canyons like windblown snow, sometimes I think that Mathis could take you from me if you could be complete without me. I glance at my watch. It is now time. You rise, silently, and to the bedroom and the paint; on the lips red, on the eyes black, and I lean in the doorway and

I am a perfect song harmony guided by the heart felt desires of the song's creator sweet words I play in your heart without knowing Out of sight you walk away hoping every note will become less and less noticeable to your delicate ear U hum, not realizing passion drips from your lips as to kiss me gently here there Unaware we sing the same tune vibrations on similar frequencies reflections of the same measure continuing to write this verse without your touch imagery decides every note Lyrically, I am divine the chorus only quickens your fervent need to rewrite this lullaby so you no more can be tormented by the words I speak to your soul I am your perfect song July 6, 2008 inspired by no one

CLEVA RHONNYBAY rhonrhon Rhondab Silly Ms.B lynn Rhonda...

I miss Charlotte. Time does heal but there are days when the emptiness is there. I miss MA. My mother loved me. It was that simple. I have that with my daughter but of course its different. To have that person to just smile when you show up, when you do the smallest of things, when you just take in air.....its so refreshing. I was walking and I verbally and a few words for her and to her. "I miss you lady". I'd give anything to crawl in her bed and lay down next to her as we watch a movie, as she asks me about my life. That day when she went away everything changed. EVERYTHING. My life is not the same as it was prior to February 19, 2004 at 5:50am. That moment she said good-bye, trusting that I will be fine. What great faith to have in me? She give me her power at that moment. I miss her. The obituary....clearly not written by me. Bayless, Charlotte B. Owens February 23, 2004 Charlotte B. Owens Bayless 60, Indianapolis, died Feb. 19, 2004. She was a clerk

I was talking with a long time cohort in the HIV arena. We were talking about our busy lives and how we could work together. She spoke of her daughter and grandchildren. I watched her thoughtfully think of them when she saw some items at the conference she felt they may need or like. As if we knew what was on each others minds, we both sighed heavily. The conversation moved into being single and feeling its time, its that moment to connect with someone and to be able to lean, to rest, and to allow someone to be there for us. This wasn't the cry of two bitter women. This was a conversation between two women who have worked hard, raised children, and yes looked around and said.....I do need you black man. There are moments when I come home from work and I wish someone had taken out the dog, had made sure the car was fixed, or allowed me to rest my head on his shoulders. Leaning in....and resting.... We both just walked away, taken up our cross, getting back into the game, and say

Extract from There is a Spiritual Solution to Every Problem Dr. Wayne Dyer Extract from There is a Spiritual Solution to Every Problem Dr. Wayne Dyer Here are seven suggestions to help you transcend ingrained ideas of self-importance. All of these are designed to help prevent you from falsely identifying with the self-important ego. 1. Stop being offended. The behavior of others isn’t a reason to be immobilized. That which offends you only weakens you. If you’re looking for occasions to be offended, you’ll find them at every turn. This is your ego at work convincing you that the world shouldn’t be the way it is. But you can become an appreciator of life and match up with the universal Spirit of Creation. You can’t reach the power of intention by being offended. By all means, act to eradicate the horrors of the world, which emanate from massive ego identification, but stay in peace. As A Course in Miracles reminds us: Peace is of God, you who are part of God are

"'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. ' Friedrich Nietzsche"

In the scope of the past month, I've been called "Frazzled" various times and at various moments. Each time, I've been taken aback by the word used to describe the moment of vulnerability. Am I frazzled? no Do I have frazzled moments? yes [enter human] But then, I started to question if this was a word used to describe mostly women when they are tired but grinding hard towards their passion. Do men get "Frazzled"? So I let G o o g l e Images teach me...... The first images that come up: There's more but I think you get the picture. So are women incapable of managing their lives successfully? Are we allowing sexism to rear its head by identifying, too quickly and too easily, a woman's need for balance as being "Frazzled"? For years and even today, women are told that we are MORE susceptible to uncontrollable mood swings and mental illness. We speak the language of our oppressors. I've been called "frazzled&

Let me say, I am a believer in Yeshua, Yashua, Jesus, etc, etc. With that said, its becoming hard for me to say that I am a Christian. I love and serve Yeshua and believe in who he says he is but Christianity and its history has a lot to answer for and Christians have to stop being ignorant to the history of their faith. [Done fell into the rabbit hole.] More than anything, Christians need to do better about their study and move beyond just the guidance from the pulpit. Pastors, Preachers, and Priests are to be a guide. You must work out your own salvation. I'm not here to say that I'm a scholar but being skeptical actually has strengthen my faith, to read the scriptures more closely, and seek the mysteries. I'm learning to have an understanding of the so-called pagan traditions of the Church and its connection to what they would call the lesser religions. We can not ignore as Christians that "our story" has been documented on the walls of Egypt (Kemet) prior