Lifestyles
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What’s New: Keep scrolling for interesting insights from Tre Thomas (Real Talk), Autumn Lubin (A Fine Mingling…), Rich Hoskins (It’s So Funny…) and more!
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Real Talk with Tre!
Facts: Yo!! Whatever you’re holding on to and internalizing—whether it’s stress, anxiety, hurt, anger, resentment, or fear… let that ish go!!! Your body is not meant or equipped to hold it, and, in fact, will begin to display physical symptoms as its own mechanism of release (usually painful). Acknowledge what you’re holding, honor your feelings, then find constructive ways to help them to pass through you and not get stuck (e.g., therapy, meditation, walks, exercising, journaling, confiding in trusted friends, etc.). Try letting go of stuff today and allow your body to heal, your mind to clear, and your heart to mend. 💯
Real Talk: Be careful about how you handle people. You never know how your words (and/or your actions) might have lasting effects. Let us all be more intentionally mindful of what we say (and do) to people…especially the people we love. Speak life. Speak LOVE. 💯
Truth: For those of us who are natural givers, who tend to fall back for the sake of putting others ahead of ourselves… it’s time for us to take a different approach and start advocating for ourselves. Instead of hoping and waiting for folks to ask “what do you need?”, create opportunities to say “here is what I need from you” or “this is what will allow me to show up in a better or more productive way”. You don’t have to feel bad about articulating your wants and needs. In fact, you should feel empowered to do so—your intake is just as valuable as your output. Asserting your interests or your boundaries or your thoughts will change the way you feel and allow you show up and relate/give to people from a place of strength instead of feelings of deficit. Try it out: advocate for you! #perspective
P.S., This practice transfers to any relational dynamic—home, work, family, friends, or significant other.
-Tre-
A Fine Mingling of Letting Go and Holding On
Like a well-trained January to do list, I sorted through my closet with a pile of keep, donate and toss. Sitting in the middle of the piles, I catapulted into a more esoteric decluttering.
There are certain things I will never let go of, that I will take with me into the afterlife, tucked into my soul. It’s not like I’m trying to haul a pile of gold with me, so I think I can sneak them in.
The ongoing sagas that my sister and I created. Our combined imaginations tumbled every day with ideas. We created games with prizes cut from the Sears catalog, built towns made of upturned encyclopedias, designed houses in the woods. Her inspirations beget my inventiveness which beget her giggles. We were our own book of Genesis.
The indescribable love I have for my son. He was born too early, in a mess of health complications, not assured his next day. He wrapped his tiny fist around my finger, tying my heart in knots that will never be untangled.
The comfort of knowing I am loved extravagantly by my husband.
The words of the birthday card my mom gave me her last year, a final lullaby that sang she loved me fiercely, despite our tumultuous relationship.
Those who left my world in a glint of light and shadow. I carry pieces of them with me, poked in my pockets. They spray painted my heart with a graffiti of love.
And, oh, the things I have let loose.
My dad, slipping into the sky when I was 10, when dads still know everything and can fix anything, I saw him, stilled by a heart attack. But, when I think of him, I see a man playing badminton with us the weekend before, when the other adults wouldn’t. I think of him in motion. I can let go of his motionless body but not his ever bounding soul. A fine, fine mingling.
Every single doll or toy or dress made by my mom that I had until a house fire ravaged my life and took with it my sisters. I learned that day, things don’t matter. My mom, my brother and I moved onto other houses, toys, and clothes. My sisters were irreplaceable. The hole that day burned in my heart will never close until it beats its final sound. I let go of the sadness, the what ifs, the anger, the interminable question of how to celebrate their birthdays and honor their passing. I hold on to the moments of having sisters, doing the silly things little girls do, seeing their eyes looking at me from my nieces faces. I hold on to knowing that as far away as they are, they are near. The finest of minglings.
Asking “Why?” The answer always comes back to the brittleness of not knowing. I hold onto “what” and “how’ because they have shown me how to move forward, to rebuild a shattered heart. A practical fine mingling.
I have let go of the indefatigable anger of unfairness and fall gracelessly into the humility that waited beyond. I hold onto the genuine love I’ve known and let go of the betrayals of those who masqueraded. I tenderly hold the twisted wreckage of my first marriage that gave me a child of everything. I forgive myself for foolish decisions because every one of them thrust me on a path to this life that I love and constantly amazes me with its colors, its dances and its wonders. Profound, fine minglings.
My closet is still waiting for my return. -Autumn-
It’s So Funny How We Don’t Talk Anymore
That’s a hook from a late 1970’s song by Cliff Richard entitled “We don’t talk anymore.” In my opinion, it perfectly sums up the core reason for our current state of societal dysfunction. As our integration with cyber advances, our skill for personal interaction seems to be decreasing. Maybe that assumption is not totally fair. Maybe it’s a generational thing and I’m among those having a hard time with it. Suddenly, it seems every time I work on a professional product I’m prompted by grammar algorithms to be more succinct. Old rules that were standards in the 1960s and 70s have given way to brevity. When I watch the history channel and listen to those beautiful poetic letters from 150 years ago and compare them to the letters, I grew up writing, I realize this tendency for succeeding generations to employ greater economy of words has been ongoing since well before baby boomers became the latest victims. A popular insurance commercial about avoiding the trap of becoming your parents, makes light of the fact that a middle-aged adult left a voice message instead of a brief text. Why talk to someone, just type a few words and emojis. I’m that violator. I’m often embarrassed when I look at text conversations with family and friends and note that I type a page to which they respond with 2 lines. I’ll probably go over the 600-word limit here, despite my best efforts.
I think however, there may be other consequences to this new way of communicating. Perhaps the polarization that has gripped the globe has its roots in the fact that we don’t talk any more. Specifically, we don’t talk and then listen. Everyone has a societal ideal or political perspective that is constantly reinforced online once algorithms decern what information will keep you signed on. It becomes a contest of my information vs your information or my research is superior and better vetted than yours. But there is very little listening.
Last year during a work event I mentioned that the name of a Virginia highway had been changed to better reflect current attitudes towards Civil War commemoration. My colleague responded saying she had no problem with changing the highway name, but she would not put up with her kids being taught about the treatment of slaves, indigenous peoples, or any other controversial aspects of American history. Adding that she was totally opposed to having the government determine curriculum. I thought it odd that she felt the need to respond that way. Or that she saw the highway name change as a line in the sand that could go no further. I realized that my colleague had a valid point considering the pre-school age of her children. But I was in my 30s before I realized there had been a 54th Massachusetts regiment, Buffalo Soldiers or Tuskegee Airmen. Learning how much African American history had been neglected by the schools and universities I attended deeply upset me. If we were both willing to listen to one another and understand why we take the positions we take, I believe we could have found some middle ground where perhaps there was agreement to limit certain historical material until 10th or 11th grade, and as an elective. Sadly however, in today’s world that kind of mutually respectful exchange of ideas and compromise is hard to find. We just don’t talk (and listen) anymore. -Rich-
Michelle Obama Fans!
This one is a must watch! Grab a healthy snack and cozy up. A powerful conversation that includes H.E.R., Kelly Rowland and Tina Knowles, discussing the First Lady’s latest book and more.
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Just for Fun!
Work on a sequel to Nobody’s Child continues…
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