Run fast, run hard but you cannot hide from death. It will appear either as a soft wind or a violent storm. It will find you and take its place where you are. All the exercise and good eating will not turn it away for when its time, it is time. As an ex hospice nurse I have been blessed to have sat with many as they made their final transition. I have heard death bed confessions and witnessed pleadings with the heavens for another day. I have seen families fighting their own battles as they were coming to terms with the impending loss of a loved one. Death is the great equilizer and changes all. Yet, we like to pretend it does not exist. We speak of it in hushed tones hoping it will not hear us. Death does not want to be ignored. It wants to be invited in for tea, to have a plate set at the table. It wants to be with us side by side with life. Being a friend to death can teach us how to live. If we are brave we will live a life with passion and gusto understanding that death is a part of our journey. We will learn that death is nothing to be feared. I cried when I read the book “The Fall of Freddie the Leaf.” As the last little leaf let go after clinging on for so long a deep well of grief and sadness rose to remind me to surrender to what is and what will be. 
However we see death friend or foe, it is and will always be.
Oh death, not you again
A divergent path
When I was planning my wedding, I mentioned to my father that I wanted to wear black. Needless to say he had a mild episode and I had a feeling I would not be wearing black. I had always heard the wearing of white was to indicate a virginal status and I was not of the virgin variety. I had lived with my soon to be spouse 4 years before we walked down the aisle that January day. As a young woman, it was me giving the marriage ultimatum; now or never I would threaten. After all, society had laid down the law that it was now time. Our wedding happened to fall on January 2 and one of the perks of getting married close to New Years was a lot of left over party food. Yes we had a lot of freebies we had not ordered. That day we smiled for the cameras and shoved cake into each other’s mouths without a thought for the rest of our lives or the next week. Heading to Key West from Virginia without reservations or money is enough to start the talk of divorce before the honeymoon commences. That was one long drive.
Fast forward some years later I am planning my first solo travel as my violin teacher asks me “aren’t you married? Why would you go off without your husband?” That was my first look into what some thought of marriage. They were looking at an institution with restrictions. I had not signed on for that. I wanted a partner in life, not a warden. We marched to the traditional beat in some form or fashion and yet I began to travel the world with and without my husband. My parents and others questioned “why does your husband let you do that?” The word let has always set my blood a boiling. No one lets, some of us just do.
I have been married to the same man for quite a while now and we have come to a new way of being and understanding. We are friends, lovers and partners but we both have an itch to be our separate selves. We know that we want to see and experience the world with and without the other. We offer one another support for individual freedom and growth and it feels freeing and good to have gotten to this point. I never fit into the traditional way of being and felt the pangs of guilt that often come with being the odd woman out. So I had to develop something that worked for me and fortunately I found one who liked what had been developed. There is nothing wrong with any of us making our own way and our own design. Think big, think brave. Knock down the wall that confines even if it is one brick at a time. If one thing does not work, find or make what does. There are no rules when it comes to living a fulfilled and happy life.
Just a little thought
If the day comes when others call you crazy, shrug it off. If they laugh at your ideas and dreams, shrug it off. When they call your dreams stupid or tell you it can’t be done, go ahead, do it anyways. Crabs in a pot want all others in their too so aspire to climb out and get on with the affairs of your business. Keep your eyes straight and focused. Carry on with your plan as your soul knows your work. Your soul knows what mortal man cannot comprehend. What may look crazy to others is no concern of yours. There is genius in your madness. 
Your soul is the nudge that keeps you moving onward. Your soul never lies
BE BIG
I am a visual artist and with that comes rejection, a lot of rejection. Not only from museum curators but from society at large. It really bites to be rejected and can send one screaming for the nearest bed to crawl into. For some reason creative endeavor is seen by some as play time and not really serious. Friends have popped into my studio unannounced convinced I was merely lazying about ready for lunch or conversation. Every day I face the fear of “what am I going to do today and what if it sucks?” Many of us live with a fear of failure and rejection. The opinion of others can weigh heavily not only with creative endeavor but in every walk of life. Those with unique vision can be toppled by rejection or ridicule. Humans are a creative lot but many of us hide our light under a bushel. We fear failure. We may have brilliant ideas but retreat when we are ridiculed by others. We may hear”someone has already done that, you are too old to do that, that does not make sense and the list goes on. Yes, someone may have done it but it was not you. Others have a vested interest in keeping us small. If they keep us small, they too can stay small and it can be mighty comfortable sitting still doing nothing. When we do nothing and stay in our place there is no risk and we think we are safe.
The world needs our ideas, our inventions and our creations. We cheat ourselves and the universe when we play small.
Oh the pain
I have always been a coward when It comes to pain. As a kid my fear of pain led me to live a careful life less I hurt myself and end up in pain. Of course, that was not a sure fire method of pain avoidance because I certainly experienced my share along the way. Pain serves us well. It lets us know when something is amiss or when we are doing something that we should stop. It is our body’s alert system and the body wants pain to stop asap. A few days ago I sat in a parking lot of a local tattoo parlor talking myself into getting a piercing not in my ear mind you but in my nose. Ever since I was a teen, I wanted a nose stud. I thought they were a beautiful sight to behold, the way they shimmered in the sun. On this day certainly no longer a teen, I ventured inside and ended up in a chair of a bald guy with an eagle tattooed on his scalp and two split ear lobes aiming a needle at my left nostril. I won’t lie here, yes I was scared and I was wondering “what the hell am I doing in here?” I exhaled as I had been instructed and the unexpected happened. I began to accept the discomfort. I breathed into it and began to enjoy the experience. I sank into a space of peace and knew once it was all over I would be the proud owner of a sparkling nose stud. I wondered to myself why I had not screamed or why I had sat in total peace and serenity as the pierced man pierced me and yes it hurt. I figured it must be akin to childbirth where a kind of acceptance takes over and you realize this too shall pass. I was brave that day and felt even braver as I sat in my car admiring my shiny new nose piece. The ability to rise above the fear and take a seat in that chair showed me a strength that I had forgotten I had. Pain lets us know that we are alive and riding the wave of pain can lead us into a place we never expected.
going toe to toe
The other day my sister told me she was in the process of ending two long term friendships. These women had been in her circle of friends since she had moved to the area where she now lives. After numerous slights and failures to be completely honest on their part she came to the conclusion it was time to call them out on their behavior and lack of true caring. She spoke of the moment she had spoken her truth and how uncomfortable her friends became. They had been called out on their game. There was denial on their parts and the usual blame game that follow when one is confronted. She stated her piece and voiced her feelings in a calm and self assured manner and expressed her need to end the relationships if it was not going to be reciprocal.
When we decide to say enough we scare others. We put them on notice that the gig is up and we are now in the driver’s seat. Human nature loves comfort even when it is no longer comfortable. We hold on when we know our relationships are no longer working. Some live in violence walking on egg shells knowing their lives are at stake. Friendships or relationships that have exceeded their expiration dates are held onto out of fear of loss or the fear of being alone. It takes great strength and courage to stand in our truth; to be the captain of our ship. We get to say who is allowed in our lives and to walk away from those who are not supportive or harmful. We get to say how wide our wings can spread and on which road we walk. Today be big, be courageous and be brave. Open your world to those who love you and want the best for you. They are out there just waiting to be let in. 
W
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Acting like a lady
Recently a close friend spoke of my anger. Apparently my voice had given me away. I had spoken loudly and with passion. I had spoken of discontent and voiced my concern about the world in which we live. I had seethed about the stupidity of my fellow humans and yes I was angry and I am still angry. I am angry that I live in a society where anger is seen as bad especially for women and especially for women of color. All of a sudden we become the “angry black woman.” As any woman we are expected to speak softly and to keep any notion of dissent to ourselves. Hillary Clinton is expected to smile even as she speaks of serious issues in her quest for the highest office in our land. As I walk along the street I am advised by men to smile and not to look so mean. It was not long ago when Michelle Obama was labeled an ABW(angry black woman) by our patriarchal society merely for having an assertive opinion. Trouble makers, ball busters, nags, bitches, “being on the rag or any other label designed to shut us up are just a few of the names a woman is called by those intent on control. The message is clear “shut the hell up and get back to the kitchen.”
Women have had to face the disdain of a society if she dared speak her mind or heaven forbid to question. From the moment we are born, we are dressed in pink, given a doll and reminded at every turn to act like a “lady.” We are labeled as whores and sluts when we enjoy our sexuality through action or dress. We laugh and show disdain for cultures where women are covered from head to toe to not arouse male passion but are we not doing the same when we accuse women for contributing to their rapes or abuse by what they wear or their behavior? Women around the globe are beaten or killed for stepping out of prescribed guidelines or moral expectations. Sadly, repression of women is ingrained into the fabric of human culture. It pays the powers that be to keep the peace and keep women in their place. A woman with a voice and a mind not to mention a sexual presence is a force of nature and will not be denied or silenced.
Living at the speed of life
As a little kid, I was raised to be afraid. I was warned about the boogey man who I assumed lived in every closet. I was warned by the old Baptist preacher about the heat of hell. I was warned that somewhere out there something was around to get me and in all likelihood if I were not careful, it would. As a woman, I was advised to stay close to others, travel in groups, avert my gaze when meeting strangers especially men. Sit up straight, knees together and cover your cleavage. Yes as a woman in this strange world it would be my fault should I fall victim to rape or abuse. “What did you do or what did you have on to cause this to happen?” is all to familiar. Yes, according to societal dictates, I have to watch myself and follow the rules like a good girl should if i am to stay safe.
Fear is a powerful motivating force to keep us in line. If we are afraid, we will stick to the tried and true, follow the masses and march to a beat that we know is not our own only to feel safe. When we live for safety we lose the piece of us that is unique. We become like everyone else. We cease to really live and in doing so, we die a little faster.
Be Wild
If you are blessed or lucky before you die you will get wild. You will get wild by society’s standards as society hates wild. It hates wild because it cannot control wild, it cannot beat the passion out of wild and it cannot understand why wild wants to be wild. The rules made by wild are its own. It takes you into its circle and makes you expand your wings. One simply cannot help to expand its wings once wild gets a hold on you. There is no convention, no co dependence, no tight jaws or stiff necks. There are no penny loafers or alligator shirts in the land of wild. There is only space, creative thought, freedom and a desire to see just how far those wings will stretch. Once you become a citizen in the land of wild others may decide you are just too much to handle and they may walk away. Understand that this is all part of the plan as others have a vested interest in you remaining the same. Have no fears my friend as there will be many just like you who have staked their claim in the wild. You will not be alone. 
The Nod
I live in Santa Fe NM and according to the National Census there are approximately 400 black people living in a town of 70,000 give or take a few. I have never felt or had any issues living in predominantly white communities and have been in an interracial marriage for more than 20 years. I like to call myself a chameleon, one who can adjust to being any and everywhere. Since I have lived in Santa fe, it is rare that I see any of the other 400 black folk who live here. I used to say that with 400 of us one would think a sighting would happen more often. People have asked me if I missed living around a lot of black people. I will admit after being here for a year, and traveling through the Atlanta airport, I was taken aback by seeing that many black folk in one place. It was akin to a little culture shock. I found the experience strange and intriguing as I had not seen that many black people in one place in quite a while. As a child I was always instructed by my parents that whenever you see another black person one must always speak. I followed that rule religiously and carried it with me through my adult years. It was kind of a ritual for members in a special club. It was one all of us knew. We began to call it the “nod.”
In conversation with a close friend of mine he confided that when he first saw me he wondered who I was and where I had been hiding. He was also African American and although we had spotted each other from time to time, we never spoke but we would nod. The nod says “I see you.” I have done the nod everywhere. It is quick, without conversation and offers an acknowledgement. Sometimes the nod leads to a deeper eye
contact and eventual conversation. I have a few friends that have developed from the “nod.” The first time others unfamiliar with the ritual observe it, they assume the participants know one another. When my husband asks me “who is that?” he lets it go when I say “I don’t know.” It is a silent language and one that for many of us has been instilled early on. There have been times when some prefer to ignore the nod. Yes we have names for them that I will not divulge here. When we nod, we find comfort. We know we are not alone and we have kinship and sometimes we find a good friend. I feel honored to nod and receive the nod. I know I have been seen.
A different terrain 