Where are you?

Where are you?

WHERE are you?

This, I asked of my heart. A friend had just texted me to see how I was feeling. Turns out, I did not know. My heart was silent, today. I wondered where it was hiding.

Where are you?

She has not answered. Neither can I.

wondering,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Joy, beneath the tears.

Joy, remained, remain, beneath the tears.

Surprisingly, I found joy, today. Yesterday had snatched my joy, or so I thought. Yesterday, whooped me upside the head, brought me to my knees.

On my knees, I cried out, shouted out loud, cried, cried, cried some more.

This evening, I find that I can’t stop writing. I can’t stop being thankful, being grateful for life.

I thought I was done writing. I found writing was not done with me. I thought I was finished singing. I found music was not finished with me. I thought it would be a while before I would feel joy. I found joy was only hidden beneath my tears, hidden within grateful 😭.

I used to dismiss my tears. Now, I embrace them as the dear friends they are. These tears share my heart with God, with Life, with others. Ah, Lord, these days hurt. Ah, Father, this heart has been so lonely for a family of my own. Ah, Life, this soul has been wandering and wondering where my posse has been hiding. Ah, beloveds, I don’t know how, when or where to make my writing dreams to come true. Ah, me, I don’t know what else I can do for you, for us, to get us where God, where Life, where mom and dad thought we could or should be.

*Shedding tears of joy, Cassandra cries for all who can’t yet cry for themselves*

Ah, God, be there for each and every heart, mind and soul who has a need. Ah, Life, help each to overcome all that overcome them. Ah, Jesus, be there for each and every heart in need of A Friend. Ah, beloveds, hang in there. Love, yourselves. Allow others to care for you. Who cares? He, does. I, do. We, do.

loving me a whole lot of yous,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

The struggle does not have to be a struggle.

The struggle does not have to be a struggle.

As I prepared to watch the Superbowl, I watched with new eyes, from a completely new perspective, from a new mindset.

Before, I would have made my choice. MY winning team, therefore I would win. And would then set out to make sure THAT team, that MY team won.

Woe to them, to me, if MY team, had failed to measure up to their, to my expectations and lost the game.

How dare they?!

How dare they have the nerve to lose the game!! Didn’t they KNOW they played for me?! Didn’t they know, in winning, in being MY team, that I somehow, someway, won as well.

If THAT were true, that must mean that, now, I was a loser too!…*gasp*. I would mope and pout my way, for days, through comfort food, whining, complaining, stomping my way through days of unsportsmanlike conduct.

I forgot why I loved playing sports, why I loved watching sports so much: watching a group of folk, on BOTH sides of a contest, who had decided to come together, for a common purpose, all with the purpose to win the game, win the match, win the contest.

The field of battle mattered little. What mattered, was the coming together of like minds, with one goal, in mind. No competing interests. Without jealous, without strife. Just two sides, meeting in the middle, hashing out the final tally, the final outcome, with all the talent, hopes, aspiration, perspiration, perspective and effort that each participant could and would muster.

The ultimate outcome was to overcome adversity, from the other side, from their own side, from their own insides.

Adversity overcome, fear would come next. Next to test each side, each inside, to make both sides question why they set out to try. To win. In trying, each side conquered their fear.

Fear vanquished, all that was left to determine was the final side, the final score, to find who would lift the hardware at hard work’s end.

Ironically, after conquering adversity, after overcoming fear, in coming together, on one accord, towards a common end, BOTH sides ended up winning. The trophy πŸ† turned out to be icing, not the cake πŸŽ‚.

This year, I remembered why I loved the game. I did not pick a side. Sides, did not matter. The final score, did not matter.

I now understood that the struggle did not have to be a struggle. The contest could/would be contested but did not have to be a confrontational. Yes, each side were, in fact, opponents. Yet, each were good, of heart. They were opponents, not enemies. They were in opposition, to the game, not to each other.

Once, game ended, each side shook hands, embraced one another, grateful for the opportunity to try, to win, to achieve the desired result.

Over the course of my life, I have learned the best moments are in the after: After, the loss. After, the win. After, the try. After, the trial. After, the tears. After, the laughs.

In the after, in the aftermath, both sides, having realized all had won something, had won different things, in the contest, each came away with more than they had arrived with. How can that NOT be a win?

Today, I prepare to enjoy the game. Whose side am I on, you ask? Am on journey’s side. I have no idea where we shall end up. Who cares? He, cares. For, me. What else could I possibly need? I don’t need a side, a team, a set of circumstances to call myself a winner. In, being. In, being me, I have already won.

winning always,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

It’s about the journey, stupid: Learn how to meander.

One of my sisters is the best meanderer, in thr entirety of this whole wide world. She can take a ten minute conversation and turn it into a megafest of goodness, of love, of laughs, of truths.

Today, I thoroughly enjoy a good meander. Times past, meandering used to drive me cra cra. I used to be, still am, I think, a get to the point kind of gal. Get to the point, I was forever shouting, in my head, while folks whiled and winded their way through long winded conversations.

Yet, big sis paid not two hoots to my huffy, my puffs, my hemms and my hawws. Nope, sis would just sit, quietly, meandering through this process, through that memory. She would glide through scenes, carefully make her way through endlessly infinite scenarios.

Until, finally, fighting her all the way through, I learned to enjoy the journey. In fact, half the time I would forget what the world had started the meandering, in the first place.

I thank her, today, for showing me how to live, in the moment, in the conversation, not giving two hoots about where we would end up.

Turns out, we ended up not ending up anywhere. Yet, ended said conversation filled with joy and anticipation for the next.

God and Life have been incessantly trying to get me to understand that it’s about the journey, stupid. And, before you start hollering about me saying the word stupid, calm down. I know I am not stupid. I just do dumb things, from time to time. As do you. The title just makes me πŸ˜‚.

I love to laugh at me, now. I didn’t, before. Until, I learned how to meander. Until, I learned the point, of the journey, was in the journey, itself.

We will never get there. There will ALWAYS be a THERE. THERE is what:

Keeps us, moving.

Keeps us, hopeful.

Keeps us, dreaming.

Keeps us, reaching.

Keeps us, trying.

Keeps us, keeping on.

Keeps us, writing.

Keeps us, living.

Keeps us, loving.

THERE helps us, in the meantime, to keep on moving, hoping, reaching, trying, keeping on, writing, living, loving, in the meantime.

Enjoy the journey, beloveds. Enjoy, a good yak. Enjoy, a good book. Enjoy, a good walk. Enjoy, the bumps in the road. Enjoy, stumbling. Enjoy, Fallin flat on your face. Enjoy, laughing at yourself as you stumble and fall flat on your face.

Get after it.

getting after it with you,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

P.S. Blame wombie for all this yakking, this meandering today. She asked.πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ

The world needs your ask.

“Where I’d today’s post”? That’s what woke me from my pregame nap. Okay, truth be told these were my wombie’s exact words:

“NO piece? Where it at?😭”

No, preamble. No, good morning. Nothing.

Five words, though, I had NO idea I needed, until they were spoken. Penetrating a darkness I did not see slowly coming for me.

The day before, my world was rudely shaken with unexpected, with devastating news. I was doing better today, or so I thought, so I told myself.

Yea, I had made four grilled cheese sandwiches simply because I was enjoying the new sandwich maker.

Yes, I had skipped my early morning rise of shower, study, writing and beginning my day. But, this was only because today was the Superbowl and I had planned to sleep in, anyway.

Sure, I had turned off lights I normally have low and quiet on weekends. I was ONLY laying, in darkness because….hhhmm.

To be honest, I really didn’t know why I was laying in darkness. Until, one text. Until, I wondered if my heart even felt like blogging, like writing today. Remembering how I promised me to write no matter what, no matter why, no matter who, I turned on some lights, made some coffee, and allowed my heart to say whatever it wanted to say.

The words, I found, were of little import. The impact, of turning on the lights, gave my heart the light, the peace, the promise IT needed. That I needed.

Sis thought today’s piece was needed, for her.

Turns out, today’s piece WAS truly needed, for ME.

Ask, beloveds, for what you need. In asking, you may be saving a life, healing a life. Maybe, today, you won’t seemingly get what you wanted, what you thought you needed.

What I’d, beloveds, the asks you feel, in your heart, were put there, in part, for you to help God, to help Life, turn the darkness back into life in the life of another?

Ask. Someone may be waiting. That someone, in fact, may be me.

Today, I write.

Today, I live.

Today, I loved.

Cuz my wombie reached for my heart, for my love, for my words, today.

I love you, sis. With, all my heart. Be encouraged. πŸ₯°πŸ˜˜

writing with the lights on,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Real talk: Save the second portion.

For the past couple years, I have slowly been making life changes. Forever, changes.

There have been fits, starts, having fits from having to start again, again, then again, for goodness sakes again?, and again.

I would get some act right. Would tell said act right to go on ahead and kick some rocks and take new habits, Life, and at times God with…*gasp*.

Yea, I said it. I admit it. Told God, on more than one occasion, where He could take the requests to ALWAYS lean on Him and NOT my own understanding as I never really would understand all that had happened in my life.

Now, I tastefully told God that I “got this” and therefore did NOT ALWAYS have to lean on Him. I was a big girl. I was really smart. I worked really hard. I was a giving person. I was gregarious. I was a Christian. Ha!

So, slapping down my ace card, I let all know to leave me be and let me get about getting after this thing called life.

God and Life graciously got out of my way so I could go about getting in my way, leaving me to get in my own way.

Fast forward through all of the embarrassing my bads, oppppp, my apologies, and many a what in the tarnations, I learned how to patiently wait on Him, who had patiently been waiting on me, and learned how to take care of myself in healthy ways.

By training myself to put less and less, on bigger plates. I learned to start using smaller plates. It took time, beloveds. I had been used to heaping helping plates of comfort, er, food. Not just one large heaping and helping but one more than one more.

Sadly, the one more depended upon what I perceived God or Life or job or family or friends had done or not done or not said.

I punished me, you see. Thinking it was ‘just me’, so I could use the excuse of poor treatment or no treatment to get me to dismiss and disabuse me in the same manner I was so hurt receiving.

Over time, I learned to love me, learned HOW to love me. Which helped me to love loving on some me. The more that I began to love me, the less I wanted to ‘comfort’ myself with things, or in ways not helpful, not loving, to or for me.

Now I am a master portion peep. Now, I am into meal prepping and preparing things to last a few days. A while back I made some fabulous ground beef, potatoes, green beans and cheese concoction. It looked like an earthquake had hit the plate but was outstanding. Problem was I had made much too much for my supper.

Being lazy, I told myself not to ‘waste it’ and promptly laid waste to ALL those dastardly potatoes. I wolfed down the offending beef and cheese. I apologized, profusely, to green beans scarfed down with little regard and zero care.

Caring less, I ate more. The more I ate, the more I felt like me before. Before, the positive changes. Before, the hope. I now felt hopeless and positive I had positively messed things up, yet, again.

“Start, over”. This whispered gently by He who was waiting, STILL, still patient, for me to learn to lean upon HIM and not just upon me.

Starting again, again I began. Mending, tending, making matters right with and for my body, for my heart’s sake.

This morning, I had fun making grilled cheese in my new maker. I looooove grilled cheese sandwiches. I really loooooooove bread. Knowing both things to be true, I determined to allow myself grilled sandwiches on weekends. Then, I would only allow myself two.

I freely admit, beloveds, of making TWO helpings of two grilled cheese sandwiches. πŸ˜†

For supper, I decided to try making some omelets. Have been waiting to try this, to try my hand at good looking omelets, for a change. No destroying perfectly innocent eggs and fixings as I fought with, and lost to, a standard frying pan.

I got this fancy maker, kind with stenciled triangeled wondrous non stick plates. The kind that made four ooey, gooey, scrumptious egg, cheese and Italian sausage delights of love. With that, I made a can of sliced potatoes. Don’t judge yall. Canned potatoes really are tasty and saved me from forever tossing out uneaten potatoes, from the fridge.

Meal prepared, I could see, right off, I had just made too much. Hhmmm….

*sigh*…

You guessed it. Tearing into the room came old habits, yikes, egads, me time, with new habits taking up the rear.

Stopping the war, before it started, I quietly served up the second serving, preserving it in it’s portion sized resting plate, and stored it to have on the morrow.

Real talk, beloveds, sometimes it’s best to save the second portion. Enjoy, tomorrow. Don’t allow doing too much, having too much, taking too much, to ruin THIS day. Do, have, and be what is needed for THIS moment, in your life.

It makes no sense, whatever, for us to keep punishing ourselves, today, for all we did not get or have, yesterday. Like not so smart folk, we fond ourselves either hoarding away, or keeping our hearts away from this, that or the other.

It’s well past time for us to heal, to move on, to forgive, to love and keep it moving.

Forgive, you.

Forgive, Him.

Forgive, mom.

Forgive, dad.

Forgive, him.

Forgive, her.

Forgive, them.

Forgive, Life.

Forgive, all.

Above, all, forgive all you have gotten, or not gotten. You have, what you have, now.

What, now? You tell me. I have already put up my second serving. What are you going to do with yours?

🀨

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Civil War: Superbowl Edition.

What?

What?!

Huh?

Me time.

Time for me to do what?!!

*Cassandra stops her tremendously imperative pregame Superbowl preparations, which consists mostly of napping in between the 13 and a half hour pregame coverage to cover a 3 and a half hour game, and demanded to know what the wide world was going on round here!!*

Me time: It’s time for you to get up and be about being about it.

New habits: Yea, we want to try those new arm raises we came up with yesterday.

Old habits: Ewww! H to the no! We in the middle of nap 3 of 10!

Me: Nap 4 WAS trending on the what’s next board to be honest.

Wombie: WHERE is today’s piece.

Me: It’s behind nap 10. Let me go get it.

Me time/New habits/Life/ πŸ₯ͺ maker: 🀨

Okay. Okay!

*Cassandra wonders what insightful, inspiring words she can share about being about it EVERY day no matter what is going on in life*

Hhmm…*shrug*… realizing she had nuttin for folks today, Cassandra headed for the shower while thinking of how much of a blessing life is and asked God and Life to protect everyone. She decided to toss in words of hope, joy, peace, fun, and thanksgiving for folks to liberally use throughout the day.

Cassandra wondered if folks knew how very much they were loved and cared for and made a note to let folk know next time she had the energy to blog…*jots πŸ“’ to let folk know they are loved*.

I know! I can slap a positive quote at the bottom and sneak back to bed…

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Don’t allow a dark place to take you to a dark place.

Don’t allow a dark place, to take you to a dark place.

This morning, after I did me some me, life walked up, tapped me on the shoulder, waited til I turned around, and kindly slapped me in the face.

After coming to, with tears in my eyes, I tried to be about being about it but my get up and go went where I know not.

In times past, I would have called upon old habits who would have brought familiar friends: comfort food, plenty of why come, why me, along with a boatload of melancholy.

Since I now live, now, I gathered myself, asked new habits to spend the day with me, reached out o my boss and let him know I could not do the workday.

I grilled some cheese on my new sandwich maker, thanked My Maker for having and being with me, and had grilled cheese and jello. Just HAD to keep doing me, for me, in a healthy way. Not in a, woe is me life is a tragedy so I have to make my way through a dozen cookies way.

Worn out, I tuned out, turned out the lights, lay in the dark, in order to catch my breath. A nap gently whispered for me to go along with it. Going along, a nap I took, leaving my heart to rest, in peace, while telling my loved one to rest in peace.

Nap taken, I awoke, realizing he was gone, still. Yet, I was here, still. Laying, in the darkness, I pondered, the darkness. Said to said darkness “get the hell out of here”.

Hell, having been kicked to the curb, left me shaken, not stirred. Stirring, I turned on the lights. Determined, I determined, to keep living, to keep loving, to keep going.

Speaking of going, another grilled cheese sure sounds good…

brb,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

One song at a time: Civil War, Day 2.

*sigh*

They are at it, yet again, beloveds…

*sigh*

Yet again, I was awakened, by me time, old habits and new habits. Seems like me time wanted to be about that life and head to the shower.

Yet, AGAIN, old habits did NOT want to drag lazy to the shower. In fact, this according to old habits mind you, lazy promised old habits hours of bliss, if all could stay in bed for another hour or two or three. Lazy always trying it by tryna be lazy with its lazy self!

New habits had idea to turn on some music and get a bit of exercise going. What the world new habits said this for I have NO idea. The racket that spewed forth could have woken the dead. It must have as Moses peaked round the corner to see what the world had set off World War II.

Drowning the sound of lazy, and of old habits, I grabbed some me time, blared “She’s A Bad Mama Jamma” and got to steppin’, sweatin’, and livin’ one song at a time…

Choose, life.

Choose, love.

Choose, you.

Do something healthy, for you.

Do something life changing, for you.

Do something positive, for you.

Do, something!

doing some me,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: I woke this morning thinking of lazy, wanting to scarf down some this and that. Instead, I took comfort, in being good to ME, instead of comfort eating. I am finding taking care of me is quite comforting. How great is that?!

Say that!!

Yyyyyyaaaaaaaaaasssss!!

You, CAN.

You, WILL!

Get on up, beloveds. Tackle this thing, called life, one song, one step, one try, at a time.

Don’t worry, ’bout the outcome. That’s not your work to do. Your work is to be about being about it and let God, let Life worry about the outcome!

It was never about what you thought it was about.

It was never about what you thought it was about.

It was never about the degree, you did not have.

It was never about the money, you did not have.

It was never about the significant other, you did not have.

It was never about the car, you did not have.

It was never about the fancy clothes you did not have.

It was never about the career, you did not have.

You did not have because of a million reasons but none of them is because of what you did not have.

It was never about what you thought it was about.

Life, happened.

Life, continues to happen. Whether you decide to participate, or not.

Life could give two hoots about your excuses, about your whys, about your why nots.

Life asks, no Life demands, your try. That’s it. Just your try.

Life is waiting. On, you. On, YOU, beloved.

Life could care less about what you drive, what you look like, what you don’t look like.

Life is forever weary of folks throwing this, that, the other thing and every which a way but the right way, in It’s Face.

Yea, beloveds, Life has had just about enough of your foolishness. Said to tell you this:

It was never about what you thought it was about.

Best be about being about it. I know I am.

Today, I write.

Today, I live.

Today, I love.

being about being about it,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe