9:18 am
I feel good today.
Woke up and my hair looks amazing which if you have curly hair you know is a miracle.
As I lay in my bed and allowed my room to heat up before getting out of all of my wonderfully fuzzy blankets I thought to myself...
I've been hiding behind the words of others.
Let me explain what I mean by this.
When it comes to writing I haven't really given myself space to let my voice be heard so whenever I read and/or stumble upon words someone else writes, that gives language to a certain feeling or experience that I've never put into words myself I attach to it - instead of allowing myself the space in the moments when I'm feeling a feeling or having an experience that I've never seen or heard explained to be explained by me.
In my own words.
But I'm giving myself that space now by putting words to this experience and that counts for something.
6:22 pm
I arrived at the performance building that one of my best friend's were doing doing a dance performance at 38 minutes early - yet due to the fact that I'm not by any means a city girl it took me way too long to find parking.
Once I finally did find parking in the right parking deck I felt so accomplished.
I strut my stuff down the street and knew I looked beautiful. I felt it.
I was going to see a Nativity performance and for some reason I didn't quite put two and two together until I was surrounded by church people in a sheer semi-see through black shirt that got me a lot stares to say the least.
My best friend did an amazing job. Seeing her in her element, passion, and fulfilling her purpose was literally an indescribable moment. I felt so proud, so full of love - I thought my heart might burst.
Seeing the performance took me back to another time in my life.
When I was 13 and heavily in church.
On the dance ministry team.
Hearing those beautiful black voices reminded me that my people truly do have a gift for bringing heaven on Earth through sound.
Although it saddens me that we were indoctrinated with white religion and taken away from our cultural roots.
So much power on one stage.
Through dancing, acting, singing... the arts.
After the performance I was hell bent on going to this Middle Eastern food truck I saw even though I had the hardest time finding my car in the parking garage even though I pinged my car location to myself when I first arrived.
Totally not a city girl.
I finally found it and made my way to the food truck late at night and there were a lot of people out that were really messed up and although this would usually scare a girl alone I felt this bubble of protection surrounding me like fire.
I also had my hand on my pepper spray just in case.
I did get the most beautiful compliment from a man who said I looked like Macy from Charmed.
I met an older gentleman named M***** and he offered to pay for my food because I didn't have cash.
Several drug addicts came up and were yelling and cursing but I just ignored them and ignored the yelling and cursing as if it weren't a part of my reality as I waited on my food.
This story has a good ending: I finally got my food, went home, and smashed.
Smashed the food that is.
Get your head out of the gutter.
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