I just have NO earthly idea, beloveds, where in the fresh hell, I am.
I am NOT, in hell.
Though, this not knowing, where the hell I am, is a helluva place and quandary, to be in.
It’s hard to see, where one is going, when one has no earthly idea, where one is going. Or, rather, where one is supposed to go.
I find, beloveds, the unknowingness, the ungoingness, of my current circumstances, has me unknowing and ungoing.
I am not used to this, to this, ungoingness. I am used to being a ‘go getter’, for others. I am used to being about it, for others. I am used to ‘being there’, for others.
Now, at this time, both God and Life have asked me, to put down my doing, not being, my giving, for others. And, have asked me…what about ME?
What about MY needs, They ask?
I hesitate, to answer.
I hesitate, even, to ask myself, what MY needs are.
I find myself wanting, no NEEDING, to be needed.
I find myself, wanting, no NEEDING, to be cherished.
I find myself…
Ah!
Aha!
I find, that in losing my yipppees, I have found…ME!
For, beloveds, I am NOT, my yippeees. My yippeees, are an expression, a byproduct of:
Taking, out the trash.
Loading/emptying, the dishwasher.
Drinking, yipppeeless coffee.
Living, in the moment.
Doing, without knowing.
Going, without knowing whethersoever I goeth.
Hiding, in God’s Pocket.
In keeping on, when I don’t feel like keeping on.
In shouting into the void. For, others. For, myself.
In, doing all those things…
In, doing, at times, none of those things, I continue to find…
Hey, there. I just popped in to see what folk have been up to.
As for me, I am hiding in God’s Pocket. Why? Cuz the world, circumstances, situations, my job, a few folks, have been cutting up and I am a bit weary of all the haymakers flying around. Both, by me. And, from them.
So, I told God I was tired. He told me to go on ahead and climb into His Pocket, and He will look after things, so I can get a bit of rest. Yep, He told me to leave ALL things, in HIS Care, and to just…rest.
Ah!
Rest, has been a long time, in coming. Or, rather, rest has been wanting to rest but I have not allowed myself time to rest so rest has been having to do the rest and be the best it can be so has not gotten the time to rest…til now.
Here, in God’s Pocket, I can rest. No need to be:
Fretting.
Reflecting.
Working.
Striving.
Toiling.
Longing.
Looking.
Seeking.
Attempting.
All things, God said to me, ALL things, He told me to just leave, to Him. And, for me, to just rest, in God’s Pocket. There, I can daydream about things I would like to see and be. There, I can wonder, in wonder, and not wander. There, I can be refilled with all that I need to endure these, tough days. These, unknowable days. These, whatinthefreshhellisgoingon days.
Ah!
YIIIPPPPEEEE!
Aha! I have found my yippppeees! God has been keeping them safe, for me. He has scooped up, my yipppees, and added them to His Own Yipppeees, and have returned them, along with rest. How awesome is that!?
YYYYYYYYYYYYYASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!
YIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Yall, are going to have to forgive me, beloveds. It has been quite the minute since I have seen my yipppeees!
Yikes!
Egads!
Hey there, yall! I wondered where you have been hiding.
*Cassandra does a ridiculous looking but satisfying jig, in her undies, in the dark, rejoicing with her yipppees and resting in God’s Pocket*
Be encouraged, beloveds, if you have lost your yipppeees, if you find yourself exhausted, climb into God’s Pocket and rest.
Hey there, beloveds. Long time, no see. I’ve been a bit busy, you see, trying to find my yipppeees. Have you seen it/them? I’m not sure where I had them last.
I have looked for my yipppeees everywhere. I think they are with Yikes! and Egads! as I have not seen either of them around, lately. Where could they have all gone?
I looked for them in the chili I was FINALLY able to dump out. Don’t ask me why it took so many months to dump one container of chili. I STILL don’t know why I have not been able to eat any since my young friend shockingly decided to pass away on New Year’s Eve.
I don’t even know what made me finally dump it. No extraordinary feeling came upon me. Nothing inspiring or inspirational happened. One day, my heart whispered “It’s time”. So, I did what my heart asked and dumped the chili, took out the trash, ran the dishwasher and rested. In that order.
After having rested, I arose, began, again, yet found my yipppeees missing.
Have you seen them, beloveds? Or, can you tell me where to look? Life feels like, well, work, without my yipppeees.
I normally enjoy my job. I am good at it. I am fantastic with the folks I interact and assist, on a daily basis. I’m not patting myself on the back. I really AM really great at my job as I love service so love doing so on the daily.
To my surprise, I have found lately that works feels like, well work. I have tried to find my yipppeees, in my work, but have just found myself floundering to get to the end of the work day where I can escape to…🤷♀️…no idea. I have found work impossibly exhausting without my yippeee.
My yipppees contain my goofness, my I don’tgivetwohootswhathappenslifeisSTILLgood. My yippeees, contains laughter in the middle of complete foolishness and hard. My yippeees, contain forgiveness and love to those who do me wrong knowing God and Life gives me forgiveness and love when I least expect it or deserve it.
My yipppees, make me want to, even when I don’t want to. My yipppees, keep me shouting into the void, when the last thing I want to do is to, shout into the void. My yipppees, keep me reaching out for dreams, things, folks and what not, when none of those things reach back, for me.
Have you seen them, beloveds? Or, can you tell me where to look?
Food, has lost it’s luster, without my yipppees. A cup of coffee is just….a cup of coffee….*gasp*. All true coffee/tea drinkers know how much of a gasp a cup of tea/coffee is when liberally sprinkled with yipppeees and or joy.
Writing has become, I can’t say a chore. Writing, has become…*shrug*. Yea, beloveds, writing has become a shrug emoji. I have not found myself in a rush to get to my computer, or phone, to jot something down before I forget. Now, my actions are…deliberate. I want to know what and why I am writing before I begin the chore of putting words to paper. Yes, even words, now seem like work, these last days.
I thought my yipppees came from the words, stored in this weird heart of mine. Yet, here lately, it appears my words derive, in part, from my yipppees. Alas, I won’t know that, though, until my yipppees return.
I have asked God, I have asked Life, I have asked my heart, where in the fresh hell have my yipppees gone? ALL of them are silent. Holy smokes.
I CAN report that I found my joy kicking it with music. All week, work had been, well work. Hard. Long. Frustrating. All without my yipppees. Being so tired, I had, like a dumbsky, turned off my music and toiled through the days accompanied by hard, whytheheckisallthishardbeingsoblasted hard, whatgooftookthefunoutofmyday.
Thankfully, hard discreetly suggested that I turn my music back on. I turned on my music and found myself chair dancing. Looked over, and saw hard rocking and frolicking, to the music. Looked on the other side, and saw peace and joy moonwalking and cutting up.
YIPPPEEE!
What was that?!
HHmm.
*Cassandra forgets about her lost yipppees and chair dances for others who may have also lost their yipppees*
YYYYYYAAAAASSSSSSSS!
Hey, there, yasssssss! Long time, no hear from. Where have YOU been hiding? Can you tell me where my yipppees have gone?
No? Well, I will just hang out with you, til my yipppees return. Maybe, my heart just needs a bit of time to rest, to let others be there, for me. So, I can get refilled/refreshed.
I think it’s okay, YYYYYYYYAAAAAASSSS!, to be able to admit to not knowing, being exhausted, having nothing left to give out to the world, to myself even, and have that be okay.
I’m not sad, mad, discouraged or anything like that. I am…*shrug*….I find myself just being ‘I am’ if that makes sense. Right now, I am many things.
I am:
Tired, from years and years and years and years of shouting into the void, for others, for myself, for life to give up it’s bounty, to us.
Wondering, if these dreams, of mine, will ever come true. And, if not, what shall I do then.
Exhausted, from years and years and years and years of trying to figure thing out, of trying to understand when things don’t go my way, of trying to receive whatever comes, my way, with dignity and grace when at times I want to tell those things to kick ten rocks, already.
A bit hesitant, to embrace, the yipppees, that wishes to, come pouring out of me, at the thought of the void which may, finally, be about, to give up it’s bounty.
A bit fearful, to encourage, the yipppees, that need to, rejoice for me, at the thought of these dreams, of mine, that may, finally, be about, to come true.
A bit reluctant, to release, the yipppeees, that wants to, reassure me that I no longer have to try and figure things out, understand when things don’t go my way, as I can and will continue to receive whatever comes, my way, with dignity and grace.
Have you seen them, beloveds? Or, can you tell me where to look?
No?
That’s okay. Until I find my yipppeees, I shall continue to take out the trash, run the dishwasher. And, hopefully, soon, make a nice pot of chili. I miss the smell of chili, filling my apartment. The smell, of a job, well done. The smell, of cooking something I love/enjoy. The smell, of satisfaction.
I think we all have those times where we misplace, lose, forget where we left, our yipppees. I also think, it’s normal, to do those things. Helps us remember how important, they are. So, when we do locate them, we will safeguard them, better. We will, enjoy them more. We will, help others, find theirs. ALL things, work for our good, if we let them. Even, losing our yipppeees.
I think, beloveds, that I shall go and climb into God’s Pocket. My heart, is tired. My heart, needs some care. His Care. Yea, think I shall do that.
brb,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
Note: Life has been no joke, for most of us, lately. No matter. However. We fight on. Still. Yippppeeeless though we may currently find ourselves to be. Keep on living, beloveds. Don’t EVER give in to the temptation to simply exist because it seems easier to exist, to not care so much. Caring too much, beloveds, is not the problem. If you find yourself at a blank page, a black spot, a silent moment receive these things as the gifts they are. Gifts, in that they continue to show you the awesomeness called…YOU! You got this, as do I. And, if you don’t got this, that’s okay as God and Life has us all.
I am holding down my tiny corner, of the universe.
How about you?
Time we ALL stop lamenting about the darkness and turns some lights on with our love.
As Kendrick Perkins loves to say…”Carry the hell on!”.
Each of us need to lift our voices and one another. Each of us needs to stop waiting for other houses, waiting for the White House, waiting for the right house, to deliver us, to help us help one another.
It’s about time folk stop hiding, in the shadows, and get the shadows to start hiding, from us.
I dare you to:
Love, someone who doesn’t look or think like you.
Share, these words, this blog, on this a chat or that a gram or where ever we can get folk to go viral and start giving two damns!
Cast, your fear and doubt aside and start living your dream and helping someone else live theirs.
Live, your life and not just survive it or exist. Life is short. So very short.
Tell someone, there life matters.
Tell yourself, your life matters.
Then, ask God and Life to go on ahead and fulfill the things I have been asking them for 30 years plus. They know what they are. They mostly include you. That I might be able to spend the rest of my days encouraging and helping as many folks as I can do long as I have breath. I shall endeavor to continue to feed folk with the meager fish and loaves I have and maybe they shall be multiplied.👀
I fought the night. ALL night. Lost, yet got some good licks in.
You see, fear, intimidation, apathy, forgetaboutfolkisms, discouragement, whatthehelldoyouimageyoucandoisms, whatthefreshhelldoyouthinkyourinsignificantblogcandoisms, youjustablackloudwomanfoolishness, all came to visit. Rather, they ALL came to, at first, reason with me.
It was only after I told them all to go ahead and kick some rocks, that the real party began. Yea, beloveds, we all got to “throwing hands”, as it is known, in my community. I think they had Thanos on their side as it was quite the fight.
Yet, only for a time. I had enough smarts to call on my own posse. Yea, boy, it was on like popcorn, after that!
Yikes! and Egads! took care of fear. fear ended up hollering uncle or egad or some such. I don’t recall as was too busy showing youjustablackloudwomanfoolishness the door.
God and Life, well what they did to whatthehelldoyouimageyoucandoisms and whatthefreshhelldoyouthinkyourinsignificantblogcandoisms, was a frightful thing to see. Had those dummies scurrying for cover quick, fast and in a hurry.
Afterwards, God and Life stared at one another and said but one word:
Ha!
My wombie, my twin, dispatched of intimidation so fast I didn’t have time to turn around to help.
What Jesus did to apathy and discouragement was death-defying. Not surprising. Jesus rolls in the death-defying business so it was no biggie to Him.🤷♀️
So, here I sit, in my car, happily munching in some sausage egg Mcmuffins and enjoying the spoils of my all night war:
Peace.
Joy.
Love.
Life.
For such a time as this, was I born. Hardship, hard luck, hardness, hard things.
Whatever.
No matter.
In, all those things…
In, ALL things…
I am never alone.
Neither are you, beloved(s).
When these things, when your enemies, when your lies, when the world’s lies, come for you, know this truth:
For such a time as this: This won’t hurt…much.
Then, start throwing hands, with your particular posse, and get on with the living of life.
Keep, going.
Keep, being YOU.
Keep, using the gifts that you have. Don’t worry if those gifts seem small, insignificant, or worthless, to you. God and Life knows something you have yet to grasp:
Your life is worth much more than you will ever know or could imagine. Your words, your deeds, your heart, your try, your care, your thoughts, your hopes, your dreams, your concerns, and a million more things are so precious and priceless they were worth the death of a King.
Jesus, has your back, whether you have His or not.
God and Life, have your back, whether you have theirs or not.
Jaybird aka Sweetpea aka Cassandra, has your back, whether you have mine or not.
So, beloveds, what the hell you waiting for?! This world needs YOU. Get out their and shine your light, your life, the best way you know how. YOUR way.
What good can you do? What good can I do? Beats hell outta me. But, I CAN tell you one thing I surely know…I am going to beat the hell out of this darkness so long as I have breath.
Maybe, if more folks knew, I mean truly knew, that their lives mattered, if they would do less foolishness, care more, give more, give two damns, give more love, some love, any love away, more.
I wonder.
I keep trying, in any event, in hopes that someone, somewhere, somehow, some way, some day, will receive these words, pass them on, shine their lives and help eradicate this present darkness.
My life, matters.
As does yours, beloved(s).
Tell, yourself this.
Tell, someone else this.
I keep hearing more and more folks sounding hopeless, helpless even. They are lamenting all the tough things going on. Lamenting and saying ‘I don’t want to give up but’….
No buts!
No way.
No how!
We, fight on.
We, love on.
We, keep on, keeping on.
Always.
ALWAYS!!!
Tell the dark, ha!, shine your light, such as you have, and keep it moving.
It has been hard, lately, to sing. Yet, sing I do, still.
It has been hard, lately, to encourage folks finding no encouragement not many encouraging places, for me. Yet, encourage, I do, still.
It has been hard, lately, to keep tears of despair away as so many discouraging, dismaying, disheartening things have happened. Yet, I cry, though not in despair, still.
Still, I move on.
Still, I sing.
Still, I encourage.
Still, I love.
Still, I hope.
Still, I rejoice.
Still, I live.
Still, I say.
Still, I fight.
Still, I laugh.
Yes, through tears.
Yes, through sadness.
Yes, through this madness.
Yes, through rage.
Yes, through sorrow.
Yes, through heartache.
Yes, through hardship.
I sing, loudly, badly, through these lips of color, reaching out, to another and others. Loving folks, praying for folks, encouraging folks, having hope for folks.
Still.
Always.
Nevertheless.
However.
NOTHING shall stop me from doing all that I know, giving all that I have, singing as loudly as my lungs will allow them to go.
Why?
I have no choice.
You have no choice.
My song, your song, our song, is much, much too important to be allowed to be silenced.
Lift up, your voice.
Lift up, your heart.
Lift up, your light.
Lift up, your fight.
Lift up, your song.
Lift up, your head.
Lift up, beloveds, lift up.
We shall NOT be greatly moved.
This present darkness, will never, never, never, ever, ever, ever, silence my song.
Let NOTHING, steal your song.
singing STILL and especially for those whose voices shall never be heard again,
Cassandra aka Jaybird aka Sweetpea aka here STILL!
I have been searching for words, any words, that would give meaning to the 10 lives snuffed out in Buffalo, NY for no reason other than living while black.
While processing that horror, one much worse has transpired.
What could POSSIBLY be worse than 10 innocents, matriarchs, gunned down for no reason?
How about 19 ten year olds, and two of their teachers, in an elementary school, two days before summer break, watching the movie ‘Moana’, not knowing another 18 year old would barricade himself in their room and take their lives. 21 innocents. 21, brown bodies, snuffed out while law enforcement literally remained outside the classroom door, refusing to enter, until those lives were gone.
An hour. An HOUR, law enforcement waited, you tell me for what, to enter and protect these precious, these priceless brown bodies.
Now, the finger pointing has ensued. I don’t know which discourse/debates/conversations, among law enforcement, the media, the legislature, twitterverse, social media bothers/sickens me the most. I shall list a few and you stop me at the one that rips your heart out:
A raging debate is going on that if the children had not been brown skinned law enforcement would have valued the kids lives enough to risk their own. Apparently, the fact these children, children dammit, and adults, were non white law enforcement decided to wait for, hell I don’t know they are arguing, three days later about why they waited a damned hour while babies frantically called 911 to come and save them!!
Legislators don’t have to do anything as it will never reach their homes/lives as laws were made to protect white folks, protect white folks things, police non white folks and corporate America funds white folks so white legislators are ‘apathetic’ about the brown bodies slain in a school. I remember a time ALL children were priceless and worth protecting.
If the children had been white law enforcement would have rushed in, immediately and saved as many lives as they could. They would have been hailed heroes saving as many white tiny lives as they could. I have wondered, lately, how many lives, of folks who look like me, will be enough to get folks to give two damns. Apparently, 29 no where near enough. Sadly, children are also considered not worthy of the last few measure.
Folks right to carry assault weapons of mass destruction are more important than the lives of innocent babies. When asked was the death of 19 innocent ten year old was enough to get a gun owner, who displayed dozens of guns proudly, on her porch, while her white children proudly stood among them, to get her to change her mind about the need for reform to protect innocent follks, the mom said ‘no’.
I could go on and on but won’t. Just too heart sick. An 18 year old, second within a week of each other, was able to purchase an AR-15 and blow folk away. Not old enough to legally drink in most states, yet can….
Am at a loss….
What do I say to young folks, who look like me? What do I say to young folks, who look like you? Most folks don’t see our tears. Or rather, give two damns about them. They would care about your tears, though. Why? Because they would stream down your porcelan cheeks. Apparently, tears falling, on colored skin, is not as valuable, or valued.
The funerals have started, today. Two, so far. 10 year old, babies, being laid to rest. They should be in summer camp. Yet, their families are burying them. Because they were persons of color, living their lives, in their precious brown skins.
I have writen, many times, our flag, is supposed to cover us all. Not, a select race, a select few. Red, white and blue. The colors of the flag. The streets are running red, with blood, from those who look like me, because some folk who look like you, have decided our lives are no longer worthy of air.
Who am I speaking these words to? I have no idea, anymore. I guess, I want to put a face, a person, upon this black/brown face of mine. Maybe, just maybe, someone who doesn’t look like me, may see, may SEE, may see ME, care and decide my life, my black/brown life, matters enough so that someone who doesn’t look like me, will tell many, many others, who don’t look like me.
What will that do? I have no idea. I find it hard pressed to belive, anymore, that enough of folks who look like you, will ever rise up and finally protect those who look like me. Yes, this goes on, in Ameirica. Yet, many of these current beliefs, are being stoked by conspiracy theories and rhetoric garnered from other countries, and gleefully consumed, here.
I told my twin I would not write, again, until I knew what to say. If that were the case, I would never write again.
Beloveds, I write, again, tears streaming, yet again, in disbelief of present happenings.
Yet, beloveds, I also know this:
Love WILL win, in the end. It will.
Light WILL, eradicate the dark, in the end. It will.
Til then, beloveds, what can/will we do?
As for me and my house, I shall continue to say these words…
YOUR LIFE MATTERS TO ME.
praying for us all,
Cassandra
Note: We all need each other. None of us will get out of this life on our own….
Dancing about the apartment like a lumbering buffalo. No matter. Dance I continued to do.
I danced my way to the door to grab my delivery order. Even though, my heart is still a bit fearful of treading outside, I danced inside, KNOWING, the fear SHALL recede and I will get on with my life, with joy, STILL, KNOWING I am safe where ever God and Life are and that is EVERYWHERE.
KNOWING this, I have danced, through tears, thinking of those who will no longer dance, again.
Today, and always, I dance for those who can’t yet find their dance.
Despair not, beloveds. If you find yourself too tired, too discouraged, too sick, too this or too that to even what to think about dancing, let alone having the energy to lift your head, your heart, your arms.
Rest, now. You WILL dance again, beloved.
It’s okay. Yea, the darkness can appear to be a terrifying thing. The unknown can seem so scary. Yet, once you truly understand that the way WILL and SHALL be made for you, you can rest and dance.
Be encouraged, sweet ones. Be, at peace. Be, still and know your life matters. All shall and will be okay. It will.
You will dance again, soon.
Close your eyes. Relax those precious shoulders and be still.
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 