Never Too Young to Celebrate YOU

There’s a party going on. The doors are open 24-hours a day, 7 days a week. No age limit. No cover charge. No dress code.

All it takes to get in the door? Choice and action!

A party of One. A celebration of You, and all that makes you You. And the cool thing about celebrating at this party is…even if you don’t feel like celebrating…just start singing your praises, whether you’re feelin’ it or not. Fake it till you make it. You’ll be surprised how the magic in the music will get to you .

This is what I try to teach my kids. Love and honor yourself. Be OK with who God made you, keeping in mind you’re still learning and growing (I’m in school with my kids, you?).

The other night I was cleaning off the kitchen table where the kids do their homework. I’m telling you…I had to stop and chuckle to myself. Sometimes, it’s funny…always rewarding to see when your kids actually listen and follow some of your advice. Put your words into action…

Above is a pic of Daughter’s school binder, the main notebook for all of her subjects. Of course, being artsy-fartsy, she decorated it with markers, colored pencils, swirly strokes. But what got me was the WORDS she wrote…

See, Daughter hasn’t always been cool with her height. She is consistently the shortest student, not in her class, but the entire GRADE. Mistaken for 8 or 9…she’s actually 12. And sometimes, all my talk about she’s wonderfully made….God making her exactly the way she needs to be for who she is….a light and flexible dancer, the crown on any cheerleader pyramid, yada yada….sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t lol.

But just look at the celebration goin’ on on her binder *smile*:
“Go Short People!”
“Short People Rule the World!”
“Itti-Bitti Committee!”
“Being Myself!”

Ahhh! Is this the best or what! That’s right, you go baby girl! Looks like she’s doing just fine getting over rude comments by other kids, and strange, doubtful looks from insensitive grown-ups.

Her celebrations…her affirmations of who she is travels with her all day to every class. She told me other students often ask her, “why you always talking about being yourself?” What an awesome opportunity to invite other kids to join the fun!

Got me thinkin…where can I post my wonderfulness…mirror, monitor?…Where could you write a few cheers that celebrate who You are, all that You are? This is the REAL party that just won’t stop, unless we do. Ashe.Selah

Back on the Bike

I don’t know what happened. But I know why. And it will happen again, until I am promoted from this “grade” to the next. The lesson you ask? Being tender with myself as I grow in renewed confidence.

Confidence is one of those things that takes practice. To me, it seems like it’s birthed in the fires of life, not in the fields of tulips through which we tiptoe. Perhaps if I hadn’t looked on someone else’s paper with envy…hubby’s life, Dad’s life…I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted and frustrated with myself.

Give me a pen, pencil, typewriter, keyboard and a half decent word processor — and I’m good to go! Words melt like butter. I’m relaxed. Peaceful. In the groove.

Now. Put me in a crowd, and stick a mic in front of my lips. Public speaking 101. My heart races. My words trip over each other. My vocabulary goes grade school. Get the picture of what happened today?

How is it that hubby and Daddy could walk into a room filled with strangers, and before the night’s over, everyone is hanging on every word dripping from their mouth? Can I be a hater for a sec? Sometimes, what hubby’s saying isn’t even accurate lol. I, of course, have played along…we’ll talk in the car on the way home lol, but the “audience” treated every word as gold.

As I presented today, the resident expert on my product, I saw deer-in-the-headlights looks, doodlers, and the fake smiles that seemed to say, “boy, I’ll be glad when she’s finished” or “why is she here again?”

When the meeting was over, and I was finally by myself, I wasn’t very gentle with me at all. I tried to replay things I said, and how I said them. My voice cracked so many times. And I broke the 1st and 2nd rule of presentations….1) Know your audience , and 2) get the meeting’s agenda beforehand. Bottomline, I wasn’t as prepared as I could have been, cos I didn’t know the “players” in the room (and there were some big ones), or what they wanted to hear from me most. Never again will I fall for the, “just come and talk about X”.

During that untender moment, I began to focus on all the negatives, to the point of tears. Why? Because I’m still evicting old patterns of perfection. Super me. Pride. Always on my A game. But has that ever really been realistic?

I forgot alot of things today. I forgot to honor 3 of my 4 agreements with Me…to never take anything personal, never assume anything, and be alright with doing my best. I forgot that ‘08 marks a new beginning…o-u-t out for me after two years of isolation and verbal lockdown. I forgot that it’s not realistic to think just because I decide to make a come back, that there’s not process, practice, and time involved.

Wanna know the worse part of stuff like this….I am probably the only one who feels I flopped horribly today! Self-judgment, regret, not feeling adequate enough, fear of rejection, the need for other’s approval — wow. Those things are not as strong and debilitating as they used to be, but they’re still on some strange kind of life support. I pull the plug, I put the plug back, I pull the plug…ever seen this vicious cycle within?

So, I had to talk and fight my way back to myself….while telling myself to shut-up lol. Change my tone and my tune. Take the gloves off. Love all that I am today, cos I’m still growing. “Aye, chic, keep ya head up…learn from this, the more you try, the better and stronger you’ll be at it. And experience breeds confidence.”

I’ll get back on that public speaking bike again soon…scuffed knees and all. Ashe.Selah

Inspiring Words

They had always been inside of her. She just never knew when or how to get them out. Actually, she didn’t even know if she wanted them. Words. All shapes and sizes. Telling the tale of a traumatic childhood, and the treacherous road she came over (overcame) to reach survival’s side.

Then one day last month, we met each other.

Being an “author-in-residence”, I try my best to support the newly published. Those who have crossed the burning sands in my horizon *smile*. It was my first book reading. An intimate gathering at an upscale restaurant/club to celebrate the release of a friend’s book.

When I walked in, I saw her (let’s call her Tina) sitting next to another lady chatting. Tina was sophisticated, yet unpretentious. A naturally beautiful woman who didn’t need the touch of red on her lips to brighten a room. Her smile sufficed. She wore her silky black hair in a ponytail; sunglasses on top of her head kept any stray strands neatly in place. I didn’t make out the Asian and African-American cultural mix, but I’d see it clearly before the night was over.

I greeted my author-friend and made my rounds around the room…giving hugs to those I knew, introducing myself to others (folks, this is a miracle in itself…me? I’m workin’ it step by step. I digress). I briefly introduced myself to Tina…nothing major, just a hello.

The evening was wonderful, my friend’s book a hit, the live music oh so lovely.

Somehow, Tina and I were some of the last supporters to leave. She came up to me.

“So are you an author, too?” I smiled and told her I was working on the manuscript..no ETA for the book as of yet. “So, what is your book about?” Now, this question always gets me, because I haven’t really ironed out my 1-minute pitch yet. How can I describe my book in a sentence or two? I made up something quickly.

“My book is about a prominent female attorney, who after some pretty embarrassing bouts with anxiety, begins the process of memoir therapy…and let’s just say, the secrets buried beneath her pages aren’t very pretty.” “Wow, so is any part of the story yours?” I allude to childhood trauma, how the character, like many of us, is a wounded big-little-girl. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but before you know it, we were trading signals, secret verbal codes, and confirmations that our real lives had some strange similarities.

“I would love to wrap my truth in fiction like you. My mother just passed, and I kinda feel like I can tell the story now.” “You’re kidding, my Dad just passed [a month after your mom], and I couldn’t fathom telling my story while he was alive.”

We went on and on, had a bite to eat with my author-friend, we all talked some more (off subject). Tina was going to ride home with my author-friend, but she asked if I could take Tina home. Realizing she was on the way, I gladly offered.

On the way to her house, I listened to this wonderful woman’s story…surviving incest, resulting pregnancy, abandonment from her family, reuniting with family….Ahhh!!! I couldn’t believe the story, or our similarities…but then again, I could. Tina expressed how hearing my story inspires her even more to tell hers, perhaps a historical piece detailing the culture clash and romance between Asians and American soldiers. However she chooses to use her words, one fact about our meeting rocked me more than anything….Here I am…novice writer, fresh out of hiding myself, inspiring words in a beautiful woman old enough to be my mom…Tina was 60 (doesn’t look a day over 45)….and still emotionally impacted by events in her life.

Tina and I talked last week for the first time since our meeting. She shared things with me…could count others who knew on one hand. She is so on fire lol, so compelled to write *smile*. We’ll do coffee soon, meet up with our laptops, have some writing sessions. Hubby commented to the effect, “…get ready, girl. All the hell you went through wasn’t just for you….they’re coming….the ones God had in mind while He was working on you…”

I really don’t know what I can offer Tina…how or even IF I can help…then again, sometimes all you need is a little encouragement from someone who’s been to the same/similar hell…and back. Probably means more than the world to her…like it does to me. Ashe.Selah

Turning 3 :)!

It’s a beautiful day today!! As celebrating any rebirth should be *smile*. I’ve told the story before. New me is 3 years old today, the 180 degree gal, and I’m learning and growing to Love her more and more. She is so a keeper lol.

In this year ahead, I’ve gotta feeling more of her purpose, not so much for me, but as it relates to others….will be revealed. I’m crossing paths with some really interesting people, many of whom express the inspiration, connection, ’safety’ they feel with me. That’s really fab. It’s an honor to relate and inspire others.

Life has taught me…there are two sides to every mirror…both sides learning lessons from the other. So, after so long a time keeping to myself, I’ll be seeking clarity on who to allow in my new space even more….what connections are purposed (and for what)…what and how much to give and to whom….the hows, whens, and where to help others. Yeah, there’s balance in everything….even when your intent is to do good.

So, I’m off to enjoy my day…heart filled with thanksgiving, deep gratitude, and an appreciation for life !

Porn-No!

Wow. It’s a bit much to handle sometimes. How the same blood can flow between people, but they really don’t know each other. Same parent, same gene pool, but they’re actually from two different worlds…kinda.

One of my sisters (Dad’s side) called me tonight. I don’t think we’ve spoken verbally since the funeral…just texts, e-mails, etc. When I saw her name come up on my phone, I was so elated….I really do miss baby sis since we’re on the opposite sides of the country….east coast/west coast. The convo went a little something like this…

Me: Mmm hmm…who is this? (jokingly)
Sis: Hey girl, what’s up?
Me: Hey chic…what’s going on…u good?
Sis: Yeah, everything’s fine. Hey, do you still do websites?
Me: Umm, not as much freelance, the schedule’s real tight these days…why?
Sis: Well, I told my friend about you…He needs a site done.
Me: Oh yeah? What kinda site does he need? (Meaning heavy graphics, database-backend, security features)
Sis: What kinda site? Umm, well..um..it’s an adult entertainment site.
Me: A who?! A porn site?!
Sis: Yeah man…look I’m trying to hook you up with this money. (large sum)
Me: Girl, I can’t design no porn site….all money ain’t good money….

We continued on…I switched up the convo, changed the subject to the kids, life in general…She couldn’t believe I was gonna pass up all that cheese. Then again, she probably won’t believe the history I have with porn (and with who) either….

No judgment on her, but the audacity of the request borders the ludicrous. Porn is my enemy, and I have to treat it as such with zero fellowship. Why you ask?

Even at thirty-something, I can still remember the first images I ever saw as a child. “They” turned the pages, I giggled and pointed. Folks, there are just some things a young, impressionable mind does not need to be exposed to…what the?. They knew better. What I didn’t know, at such a young age, is that I was actually in training (for their use)…and what I was looking at was my handbook.

Jump into the teens and twenties, the images and their impact don’t just magically disappear from the psyche. They actually take on new meaning…a mature evil after having some time to fester. Porn no longer had to be force fed. I often craved the poison, the weapon used against me. I like you now…I want it..it’s not that bad.

Me? Sell out to make a porn site? The erotic marital tool sure to jumpstart any hot evening. It’s fun! It’s funny. Adds spice! Takes your love life to new heights of pleasure! That is, until it’s hot and spicy, addictive nature sears the fringes of the marriage…spawns long seasons of depression and anxiety as we both try to shake its pull, but we want the high. And then, there’s this huge wrinkle — didn’t I decide to press towards the HIGHer calling which is in Christ Jesus?

I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in any of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is calling us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back. Philippians 3:14

Sometimes I hate when God asks me questions. Especially when He’s driving me away from something my ‘me’ wants to do. When the fun is over, every climax to be had is had……How can you, in good conscience, tell that porn star about Me? Could you look them in the eyes, and share the Love of Jesus after what you took pleasure in?

And knowing the righteous judgment of God, that those who commit such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but have pleasure in those who do them. Romans 1:32

Porn is my enemy. Was introduced as a sheep, but it ravished me like a wolf physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Does that truth make it easier to stay free from it? Most times. Do I get tempted…does it take work to stay free? Yep, you bet.

So, what in the world was this? Integrity test…moral test? What are the odds that someone would ask ME of all people to design a porn site? Funny. Yeah, I really could use thousands to pay off a few things (man lol). And I’ve got the skills to pay the bills. But I’ve also got the scars from paying the high price of porn. They remind me of healing and freedom, for which I wouldn’t trade for any dollar amount in the world. Ashe.Selah

WIFIS: Point Two

the shortest distance
between two points
would be a straight line
if only i knew at some point
which point
makes two.

(c) 2008. Ashe.Selah

The Secret Keeper

At first, I took offense to his words. I was 30+ pounds heavier at the time, so I guess my head went right to the thighs and booty. (I kinda miss my old booty, but I digress lol). I didn’t show my offense, of course. Struggled hard to keep from wrinkling both the left and right eyebrows. For one, he was Daddy, and respect was first nature — not second. Plus, Daddy’s words always had this underlying meaning. A punchline you never saw coming when it punched you. You never really knew where he was going, until YOU got there. Yeah, we’re nothing alike, right lol?

“You’re gonna have the heaviest casket in the family.”

I don’t remember if he asked me something, and I replied, “sorry, can’t tell ya” or what. But when I realized he meant my ability to take “business” to the grave, from that day on, I knew how serious Daddy was about me being the family “secret keeper”.

I’d hear him on the phone with my siblings, talking about personal issues. He’d say, “Look, what you need to do is tell {my name} your business. She can hold water…you know I can’t. She’ll tell you what you should do, and she’ll never tell me or anybody else.”

I still to this day consider this one of the best compliments Daddy ever gave me. Only now, the more I work on my book, I’m wondering how long I’ll be able to hold the title…

Some of the scenes in the book are shifting. Time shifting. Say, where there was a flash back, I think I need to bring the reader into it present tense..and vice versa. I’ve also been doing some heavy research for the doctor character in the book, yeah, i.e. therapist. Being that I have no formal training in psychology, psychotherapy, counseling, and the like, I want this character to really know her stuff. She must be as awesome and dynamic as another character will need her to be…

Funny. Guess what? This is my 201st post here at Ashe.Selah, my anonymous footprint in the blogosphere, where I tell magnanimous secrets. How crazy. Who’dve thunk I’d still be here in ‘08, that anybody anywhere would give a hoot about my life and thoughts. Oops, I digressed again, didn’t I.

So, here I am researching characters, and I’m uncovering myself. Finding answers and reasons for this intense desire to disclose, come out of hiding with all my junk (even if I’m cloaked in a pseudonym). Man, what happened to that secret-keepin’, heavy casket chic?

Well, she kinda stumbled upon the mental, emotional, psychological benefits of — Writing. Let’s be clear folks, before stuff hit the fan, I wasn’t a diarist, a journalist, no pad and pen beside my bed. I had zero desire to write, not alone a passion. Fast forward to the present…I’m blogging, writing a book. Where’d that come from? Why did I gravitate to writing, of all things?

And lordy, don’t talk content. The secrets I’ve held for a lifetime wrapped neatly in fiction. The book I wish someone would have handed me when I was reaching up to scratch the bottom. Because I’ve gone through such a butt-naked transformation lol, I get lectured all the time….”there’s a difference between transparency, and uncovering” or “tell this part, but don’t tell that part.” No, I don’t want to do all the work it takes to write a book, and end up regretting it cos I “told too much” or someone says “uh huh, I know you were talking about me/them.” Truth is….I care, I don’t want to hurt anybody (esp. family)…..but I just don’t care enough to keep it bottled up inside anymore. The Great Secret Keeper…is fading fast….I dunno…

For now, I’m really digging Pennebaker’s research…why do we keep secrets, how do we categorize secrets, how does secret-keeping affect our stress levels, our health? I believe there’s some truth to the positive correlation between writing about traumatic or emotional experiences, and mental and physical health.

Who was that chic that said, “Secrets are like kisses. Feels better when you give them away.” Cover your ears up there, Daddy. It was…Me. Ashe.Selah

Seeing Too Much, Too Soon

I typically call myself the chic with the red fro. Well lately, being eight months late for my color touch up, I’ve been the chic with the dark brown fro and copper tips lol. January is usually my color month, and the only real time I visit a salon to fork out the dough (gotta love natural hair).

This past weekend, I finally made time to spruce up the red, and let’s just say, it was a pretty revealing experience….some things I needed to see, some things I didn’t. Let me explain.

I ventured to my fave salon for color, and wouldn’t you know it, my color guy had moved to another salon. Boo! So, I ask the front desk who’s on next….who would they recommend. They placed me with a young chic (let’s call her) Kiki. Cool.

So, I’m asking Kiki questions…checking credentials, how long she’d been at the salon (she was fairly new to this location), is color one of her strengths. She tells me how color was her fave subject (um, when did you graduate hair school?), how she had just completed a color correction with chemicals stronger than the ones for me…yada yada. She knew I was like interviewing her before we got started.

As she was mixing the colors, my stomach started to get nervous, as I watched her confer with another stylist. He was giving her color codes and such, as she listened attentively. I just wasn’t seeing a clear level of confidence…even though, they could have been comparing notes or something.

Twenty minutes into the process, after seeing the super red-orange mixture in the small bowl, I felt an interesting level of anxiety rising up lol. I don’t know this chic. Did she understand what I meant by cinnamon red? Dabbing my forehead as liquid ran down, the blotches on the white towel were the color of mustard with a dab of ketchup lol. And all my crazy self could think was…there’s no turning back….I’m now a mustard-ketchup head lol.

“Um, you wanna go ahead and rinse the color out?” “No, the back hasn’t lifted yet, give it about 10 more minutes…”

The more I dabbed, and looked at the color on the towel, I was sure of it. I even used my cell phone as a mirror at the rinse bowl…OMG, my hair is freakin’ orange! I was jacked up, and there was nothing left to do than to prepare to turn the place out (I know, I know….always on green to share a piece of my mind….I’m workin’ on me, ya’ll lol)

LSS, by the time all was rinsed, shampooed, and conditioned…walking back to her station, stylists and clients left and right were saying, “Ooh, that’s hot…can I get her color next time LOL!!!” The color was exactly as I described I wanted it.

People, I was sooooooo shame for what I thought I was gonna have to do up in there LOL!! I doubted Kiki, her expertise…I begged her forgiveness for giving her such a hard time lol. She said she understood (color is almost forever), and actually thanked me cos she’s going for this color her next go around.

Now, it’s very seldom that I run into life lessons like this, and God doesn’t share a golden nugget with my Spirit.

Right there in the chair, my Spirit heard… “There are things I’m preparing for you, circumstances I’m changing, means and methods I’m creating for your future…..But I can’t show you, or tell you everything — too soon. You’re not ready to handle it, and you’ll end up exerting alot of unnecessary energy on what you think you see, and where you think I’m going…..when it’s not the final product OR the final destination I’ve prepared for you. Stay in your lane, child, keep your nose where it belongs *smile*…..just Trust Me!” Later, I found this reassuring text in the Bible:

“I still have many things to tell you, but you can’t bear them right now. But when the Spirit of Truth comes, that’s just where He will guide you — into Truth. When it’s time, he will let you know what is to come…” John 16:12-13

I hear ya, Father. Help me to be more and more sensitive to the Spirit of Truth. Yeah, I’ve gotta nose problem sometimes, but instead of poking and peeking into Your business, I’ll learn to use my nose to simply smell the flowers, as you take care of everything that I need…even some of the things I want. Thank you!

Coming down to the flower bed with me? C’mon. Ready? It’s okay, close your eyes. Now…inhale……… ! Ashe.Selah

Cyclops or Four-Eyes

OK..so this post is all chopped up, as I’ve been stabbing it, hit or miss, for the past three days..content aging…thoughts changing. Try to work with the randomness…….

The verdict is in…doc says I have a small tear on the cornea. So I’m home for about 4 days workin’ the bacterial drops and sportin’ the coke bottles that I love to hate. If I wanna venture outdoors (which I can do, now that I can handle sunlight)….it’s really a choice of the lesser of two evils…kick it as a cyclops in one contact lens, or sport the specs. Let’s just say, if I squint the healing eye, cyclops really isn’t that bad .

Since I’ve been on the bum…a hard chill mode for the past couple of days, I think I’ll ramble a bit without agenda…

Hmm….hubby is feeling better after experiencing the dark side of the sun last weekend. Cutting the yard when the sun is at its peak will introduce you to dehydration, a nice ambulance ride, and an IV prick that’ll sting for days. He bounced back by the evening, thank goodness. Yeah, it’s been a trip week at our house.

The next morning after the hospital drama, I got up and made everyone strawberry pancakes. Now, I’ll admit, hubby is the ultimate cook in the house. But Mama picked up the slack while he was on his back. While me and daughter prepared the batter, we found the loveliest strawberry in the wwworld in the batch…almost a shame to eat it (but we did). Daughter knows me, and before I could make a move, she says, “ooh, get the camera” lol. Isn’t it lovely *smile*?

The ‘A’ has been having some pretty treacherous storms lately. We found this blocking half of the driveway when we got home from the hospital. Last week, the kiddos and I got a work out in the yard…breaking and bagging limbs, etc. I can see and feel why they call yard work — exercise.

Has anybody seen the summer? Last I heard it was thumbing a ride 75-S to FLA. Man, if I were a kid, I’d be hot as McDonald’s grease right about now…and not just because of the hot weather. I literally blinked and summer was gone. We were the worst-but-doing-our-best parents this year….yeah last minute school shopping was the name of the game. But it was fun watching the kids assemble all of their supplies for their bookbags. Anything “new” and “mine” excites them. I’m pleased with the teachers we met at open house…Son has his 1st male teacher for 5th grade….something we think he’s needed since 1st grade lol…he’s excited and so are we.  When I met Daughter’s teachers, the 7th grade head said, “So you’re Daughter’s mom?!”  (Remember, I was, for the most part, m.i.a. last year working and caring for Dad)  “Oh, I just want to tell you, Mom, you’re doing such a great job with Daughter…very well-mannered…she’s making you proud.”  Well, how ’bout them apples lol…Woo hoo!  That’s the best compliment any Mama can get…when teacher wants to meet or know “who is Her/His Mama?”

Ok..all for now.  Let me try to get my thoughts back on track…there’s so much more going on…inside & out….:)

Big Red Eye

Ooohwee…I want to write up the world right now. And read. But I got this big ‘ole red eye…the left one lol. Let’s just say my girl at work, whose son is trying contacts for the first time, said, “Hey, maybe we can take a pic of that eye….Son, this is what will happen if you leave the contacts in too long.” Ha. Very funny . It is a lesson, though. One that’s making a soft behind of this hard-headed chic.

Anywho, I just wanted to leave a mark. I better go chill for now and give the eye a break from the monitor, books….ahhhh it’s so hard to…let….go…of…the mouse lol. It’s no use….the defense will rest…After I say “Happy Sisters’ Day” to all (the day may have passed, I dunno, but real Sisters are worth 365 *smile*)….those by blood, those by heart beyond friendship ! Ashe.Selah