I was trying to hid it, from her.
My secret. Rather, my secret shame.
What was I ashamed of, you ask?
Why of me, of course.
I was ashamed to find myself:
54.
Alone.
Childless.
Dream fulfilled-less.
Financially unstable. Still.
Dammit.
Fresh hell.
Secretly, I have been ashamed of the me that has spent the past 34 years, at least, reaching out, ashamed to be a voice that no one seems to want to hear. THAT voice, it seems, is just too damned loud. THAT voice, is just too damned excitable. THAT voice, is just too damned gung ho to be about being about it. THAT voice, loves Jesus way too much and way too loud and obvious.
THAT voice, is forever rushing in to be of help, to be of service, to be of some semblance of a decent human being trying to take care of and support human beings who just appear to not give too damns anymore.
So, I have been hiding from HER.
She seems ME.
She KNOWS me.
Who is she?
If you have read any of my pieces you will have already gathered she is me.
SHE is me.
She IS me.
She is ME.
Dammit, SHE IS ME!
What’s more, she refuses to give up, on me.
Leave me be, I shout at her!
Let me alone, dammit.
Don’t you KNOW this world does NOT give two damns about you??!
I know, she replies.
She reminds me that the world just does not know how to love itself. The world is afraid to be. This is why the world dismisses me, she says.
She tells me to keep on loving people. She says that hurt people hurt people and are just doing the best they can.
I want to argue with her. I know, though, she is right.
God and Life, are on HER side.
TRAITORS!
They all laugh at me, encouraging me to keep going.
Ah, love, They say to me, keep going. Keep on being…YOU.
Fresh hell.
Dammit.
Okay.
I will.
*Turning, from the mirror, Cassandra goes in search of something priceless…herself.
here still(just barely)
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
Note: I honestly don’t know what to write. How can I encourage you when I am finding it hard, this morning, to encourage myself? I love writing. I don’t know why. I just do. The more the days pass, the less I want leave these words and return to my job….*sigh*. Writing is and has never been a hobby or habit, for me. Writing, encouraging, thinking about folks, caring, is who I am. I am finding doing anything else….*sigh*.
I guess, beloveds, I would say to you to keep moving forward. I AM writing. I AM encouraging folk, I AM living my dream of writing and drinking endless cups of coffee. I just don’t have the ocean, outside. I just don’t have the financial wherewithal to be able to do t his writing thing, for a living. It’s the endless struggle of writers everywhere. The very small few are able to do this for a living. The rest of us fith with the daily need to learn a living yet feed the writing best inside.
Keep on keeping on, beloveds. DO the thing you love. Even when it hurts because you don’t have the time to do it all the time. Do it in the window you have. God and Life KNOWS where you are. Perhaps, you are there to be a source of support and care, for others. I know. I know. YOUR needs are important, too. Yet, maybe, beloveds, God and Life knows They can trust you with someone else’s dreams as you help Them to help someone achieve their goals? Maybe, your life is where it is in order for you to help others to keep on keeping on when the LAST thing they want to do is to keep on keeping on. Being able to do THAT is worth it’s weight in goald.
So, I wait. I cry. I sigh. I sing. I chair dance. I drink endless amounts of coffee. I cook. I clean. I work. I write. I pray. Rinse. Repeat. The main thing I do, though, is to take God and Life with me through ALL of it. These times, these terribly lonely, sad, frustrating, awesome times are sooooooooooooo very precious as I walk with God and Life, learning about me, about my fight, about my try, along the way.
Who knows if I shall ever hold an actualized dream, in my hands, in my arms, to hold, tightly, for fear it shall slip away?
God knows, but He ain’t telling.
In the meantime, I:
Write.
Work.
Say.
Live.
Love.
Life is short. Live, with intentions, beloveds. If someone knows the moral of this tale, lemme know, wouldja?
pondering but not wandering,
Cassandra
- THE HAND FROM HEAVEN ✋🏾☁️🧻🤣
- COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️🩹
- BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
- Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
- Still In Love
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 