Category: Writing

Real talk: Living, in the meantime, among the chaos.

If your world has blown up, if chaos has reigned since year’s beginning. If all hell has shown up to say hello, hen welcome to my 2022. Yikes!

That said, I have been learning how to live, how to grow, how to maintain peace/joy, in the meantime, AMONG the chaos. Of course, I have prayed for mountains to be moved, foes to be vanquished, yada yada. Rinse. Repeat. Until those things happen, should they never happen, I have been about being about it and living in the midst of all kinds of what in the ten levels of hell is all this?!

To top things off, have been advised I will be moved to a super tough area of work. One where plenty of Ibuprofen will/may/undoubtedly be required. In times past, I would, by now, be having ten kinds of fits. I would be lamenting to God, Life and whomever else would have made the mistake of getting within earshot, about how this wasn’t fair, how that was cold, how I should have been protected from that happening, how I should have been exempted from that situation. Basically, a grown up temper tantrum.

Mind you, I would have eloquently tossed in all manner of scriptures to fortify my supposedly awful treatment. I would have pulled out my worksheets of good deeds, effort, yada yada. Rinse. Repeat.

I have learned at times life just doing life things. Nothing sinister. No, I had NOT pissed off the entire universe. To be honest, not sure my tiny old life worthy of the universe forever trying to disrupt internet or electronic usage…*shrug*.

Now that I have learned not to work my big bro nerves, God’s Nerves, Life’s Nerves, I can go ahead and LIVE. I can now, roll with the punches. Laughing, every step of the way.

Life has surely been turned, upside down. I am learning how to LIVE upside down…*shrug*. Like the oak tree that rocks with the breeze, that be me, Ms. C, handlin’ her topsy turvy life bidnezz whilst trying to maintain my joy and sense of humor.

Since I can’t sleep at night, to save my life, I just sleep early and use the wee hours of the night to watch some AWESOME British tv shows and series. I am telling ya’ Brits know how to write!!!! I highly recommend ‘Vigil’ and ‘Wolf Like Me’. Different. Well acted.

Since we only get one crack at this life egg, I am doing my best to find as many fixings as I can for the eggs flung my way. Omelet, egg salad, boiled eggs. Makes me no never mind. May also use an egg or two as projectiles if folk get in my way……hahahaahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Hang in there, beloveds. Think it not strange all the happenings that may be happening to or around you. Also, don’t ascribe some non true life motive that the happenings are your fault because you are deserving of not so good happenings to be a happening to you and for you. Life happens to us all.

Keep a goin. Keep a doin you. Keep a being about it.

Hard is NOT visiting you to beat you down. Hard just there to help you see how strong you are, to help hone your TRY, to help strengthen your faith muscles, to show you that you CAN and that you WILL. That’s it. Hard is not there to make things too hard for you. You got this! As do I.

I still have not gathered the heart to make chili since my friend passed. Just too heart achy to do that. I have been finding other ways/avenues to tend to me. Be sure, beloveds, to do the same. It’s ok to not be ok til you are ok. In the meantime, ensure to dig out some joy, in your hard, in your tough mountain. There are all kinds of treats and nuggets if you just keep on fighting your way through the mountain and who gives a damn.

digging still,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

A Friday Funny.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!

How true is this, right?!

If only we would/had listened to mom more, better, at all, eh? Think of all the heartache we could have saved?

God bless all moms/mums for all they put up with from hard-headed children.

We did good, beloveds! Our week, has come to it’s end, and we are STILL here! Give yourself a pat on the back. You could have given up, but you didn’t. You could have given in, but you didn’t. You could have walked away, but you didn’t. You could have stopped trying, but you didn’t.

Take some time, this weekend, to get refreshed. Do something for YOU, now, beloveds. You have given your all, to the world. Now, it’s time for you to give back, to YOU. Yea, yea, I know. The world would have you think taking care of yourself is selfish, a crime. It IS selfish. And, needed.

We can still be about it. Just a bit more leisurely, eh?

Be proud of you, of your TRY. Don’t give one thought to the outcome. It’s not your job, not my job, to ensure the success of the thing. ALL God and Life needs is our TRY. That’s it. Having tried, let your TRY be enough. It is. As, are you. As, am I.

Remember, we got this!

here still,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

What Hard whispered to me.

Hard left, this morning. I was surprised. I thought she was here, to stay. At the very least, I thought Hard would be with me. For the foreseeable future, and beyond.

This morning, though, over coffee and conversation, Hard abruptly announced it was time. Time, for her, Hard, to go. I was flabbergasted. We were just in the middle of a long laugh. About what? I don’t even remember now. We had been digging our way out of this mountain of grief and who gives a damn. I had dug up a really stupid song. One that made us both laugh. What was the song? You know, I don’t even remember. Just remember laughing, during the hard, with Hard. And, laughing, hard, still.

I couldn’t believe this heart could laugh, still. After a time, we grew tired. Hard and I. Decided to rest, just a bit. I made coffee. Offered to share, a cup. Hard, accepted. We, sat. We, drank. We, laughed.

Suddenly, Hard arose. Arose and said it was time for her to go. She left me with gifts I will always cherish. Said not to tell you, just yet, what those gifts are. She may be visiting you, sometime, and want you to discover the gifts for yourselves.

Before she left, she turned, made her way back to me. She, Hard, placed her hand, gently, upon my tired shoulder. Gave said shoulder a squeeze, leaned in and said three words. Words said, Hard closed the door and was off on her next assignment.

To my amazement, I found I missed her. Just a bit. Working with the hard, with Hard, I dug out so much more of me. Me has been nice to see. Now, I find myself trying harder, working harder, loving harder, striving harder. Why? To make Hard proud. I am no longer resistant of the hard, of Hard. I, embrace it. I, receive her.

As this day ends, I prepare for the evening’s embrace. I have been about it, given my all, ate my peas and carrots, emptied my cup, best as I could. I am letting that be enough.

As I go, I shall tell you the three words Hard said to me. They are the same I would say to you:

You got this…

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Give them some of your life.

When my young friend was buried, this past Saturday, I wanted to beat the holy hell out of life and ask ‘Why, couldn’t you have given her some of my life so she could have longer to live her life!?” I look at my old 53 year old self. I think about her young self. I want to tell God she could have used more life. She may have done better with some of mine.

I can’t give her any of my life. So, I am doing my best, to give some of my life, here, now, to as many as I can. Have tried to, before she died. Have tried, for many, many years to be of use to somebody, many somebodies.

I cry. Even, now. Right now, in fact. Wishing, she had more life. Wishing, I could DO more, with mine. Wishing, I could help more folks dig their way from beneath grief, hard days and who gives a damn.

I want to crawl back beneath my covers of comfort, to find comfort. Comfort, won’t come. Not, really. My heart, grieves. Grieves, for all who have had a lost. Greives, for those who feel lost. Greives, for all who have lost hope. I wish I could give them more:

More, joy.

More, peace.

More, love.

More, hope.

More, light.

More, life.

More, of all that can/will:

Help.

Heal.

Restore.

I can’t do any of those things. I can, perhaps, perchance, shine a light, be a light, for someone, for somebody. So they might know that things truly WILL be okay. Maybe, MY voice, my light, my life, can, even but for a moment, let someone know they be loved. And, in the knowing, maybe, perhaps, perchance, they will have given themselves more of their lives. Living, instead of surviving. Loving, instead of being afraid to love. Receiving, instead of being terrified of receiving.

Ah, I hope.

I, hope.

Maybe, if more of us, gave a bit more, of ourselves, to another, to others. Maybe, just maybe, we can all make our way from beneath mountains of this or that. And, maybe, just maybe, we can find some joy in the digging, in the caring, for one another.

I keep digging up the roots, of my TRY, hoping to see some fruit, some growth, some SOMETHING! Perhaps, maybe, I should stop digging up my TRY and let God and Life do what They will? Sounds like a plan.

In the meantime, beloveds, give someone a bit of your life. Now, whilst they are here. Whilst YOU are here. Who knows what your giving will do or will mean? At the very least, you will have removed some hard. Even, if just a little. Ever little bit helps.

giving you a bit of me,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

you matter quotes Great You Matter s and for

Another ‘Nuff said.

‘Nuff said.

We got this.

One more day, to the weekend. Yipppeeee. The NFL playoffs begin this weekend. Love me some football!!!

Keep:

Digging, out.

Pushing, through.

Holding, on.

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Real talk: It takes as long as it takes.

Apparently, grief has, or should have, an acceptable shelf-life.

Apparently, one week appears to be all the world can allot one to grieve, to mourn, to be sad, to process. Then, it’s keep it moving. Or, rather, keep YOUR sad, your grief, your struggles, to yourself. Don’t bother ME, with YOUR sad. If you do, why, that would make me have to deal with my own sad, my own bad, my own mad.

*sigh*

Thankfully, gratefully, I have grown, in the last two years from being about it, standing, TRYing, LIVEing, LOVEing, HOPEing, BELIEVEing. So much so, I no longer hide my sad/mad/struggle, whilst struggling to juggle/support the sad/mad/struggles of others. Now, I allow myself to be those things, to say those things, to process those things. All while still trying to help a brotha/sista out with theirs.

I find it terribly troublesome folks seem to be okay with walking away, refusing to say, keeping away from folks who have some sad/mad/struggle in his/her/their life. Folk so afraid to look at, deal with, touch their own hurt so look away from the hurt of others.

Yes, it is impossible to know what to say to someone who is going through. Just this morning, I told someone that I have NO idea what to say/do that would be helpful. All they needed, though, was my ear, just for a moment. Just my shoulder, for a moment. Time for them to collect themselves so they could keep it moving, one slow step, at a time.

Dealing with loss, life, whatever takes time. How much time? As long as it takes.

I think we all owe each other an apology. For not allowing others in, during the hard. For, slapping a smile on our faces and pretending. We did this, do this, supposedly so as not to ‘be a burden’ on others. What a load of crap!

What on earth, beloveds, is wrong with bearing a burden, with BEING a burden? It’s the whole point of having two shoulders, two ears, two arms. So, we can lean and allow another to lean. So, we can hear, and allow another to listen. So, we can hold and allow another to hold us.

20 lashes, with a wet noodle, for us all.

Real talk, initally, I was going to try and wade through, dig through, fight through, this mountain of grief and who gives a damn, alone. I was going to, valiantly, make my way, in silence, through tears, heart yearning for the care of another, yet keeping to myself. All, whilst waxing poetic, inspirationalic(made up word and who cares), bearing the burdens of the world and keeping mine to me. To hell with that! There are already too many, much too many folk, bearing burdens, alone.

So, here I sit, here I dig, here I share. Why? In hopes that someone, in need of a shoulder, ear, arms, might see/hear/read:

You are, not alone.

You don’t, dig alone.

You don’t, fight alone.

You don’t, strive alone.

Your struggles, matter.

Your burden, matters.

Your TRY, matters.

Your love, matters.

Your heart, matters.

In short, YOU matter, beloveds. As, do I. Time we need to also be about caring. For ourselves, first. Can’t care for others if we don’t have enough care ourselves. Then, care for someone else. Care for folks you know. Care for folks you don’t know. Just care. And, who cares, if you profit or don’t, from the care you bestow? Who cares! Just care.

Just care….*sigh*…..*Cassandra wishes there were more folks who cared, who were brave enough to show some care*.

Life is short. Yet, not short enough where we can’t give a bit more care.

There are days, these days, in fact, where I wish I didn’t care so darned much. Life would be so much simpler. Less enjoyable, but simpler. I choose to care.

caring still,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Keep going through whatever you are going through. It takes as long as it takes.

Be good to yourself.

Keep, making the chili. Even if, the chili does not taste as grand.

Keep, taking out the trash. Even if, the trash is heavy, the bin seeming farther away.

Keep, dancing. Even if, your steps are heavy.

Keep, singing. Even if, you sing with/through tears.

Keep, believing. Even if, your dreams seem to be going further away instead of drawing nigh thee.

Keep, loving. Even if, love doesn’t seem to want to love you back.

Keep, seeking. Even if, the seeking gets harder, each day.

Keep, an open heart. Even if, hearts around you seem to remain closed to you.

Keep, an open mind. Even if, the minds around you appear to be closed/resolute.

Keep, your arms outstretched, ready to hold and to be held. Even if, your arms remain unfilled.

Do these things. Do them, knowing you are changing things, you are being changed, God and life are changing things because of what you are/do.

Be encouraged, beloveds. This thing, called life, takes as long as it takes. Give yourself time to grow through what you are currently going through. Don’t remember who said that saying. I like it. Think it’s unknown or something…*shrug*. We got this. Just, barely.

‘Nuff said,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Homie don’t play that: Don’t let the gremlins in.

Have been being about it, have had a cup of joe, made some mo and kept on keeping on…lol.

ALL that time, all this year, just seems like situations, circumstances and folk have been doing their utmost to get me all up in my feelings. I absolutely REFUSE to get up in them.

Nope.

No how.

No way.

It’s a good thing, also, as a someone at work has been poking at me, a bit. Kick rocks! I have NO time for folks and things with no act right. Trying to get some act right, myself.

Peas and carrots. Carrots and peas. All the same. This too, shall pass. I shall NOT let the gremlins get inside. Yep, them jokers can stay on the OUTSIDE where they belong. Kick rocks, already!

Seems like the world, at this time, is full of nothing but bad news, sad news and mad news. Why we can NOT allow ourselves to get caught up in the wash of folks who are running around screaming this awful thing and that one.

Yes, tough times are afoot. Yet, there are just as many good things, great things, awesome things, afoot, as well.

Even with losing my friend, my young friend, I can think of her with gladness. She loved. Hard. With, all she had. Folks, who knew her, KNEW they were loved by her. Though, I grieve for her, every second. Every second, and I mean every one, I can do so with a smile on my face and in my heart. We were people, she and I. We cracked each other up, on the daily, when we were around each other, she and I. Life parted us to different parts of the country, yet I knew she still loved Ms. C, as she called me. Miss you, my friend. You rest now. You did your thing. I am doing me and being about it, best I can.

Don’t allow the sad, the sudden, the hard, the whatever of life get in, beloveds. Hold close, your joy. Hold fast, your care. Hold tight, your TRY.

Say.

Live.

Love.

We all we got, beloveds. Yet, we all we need, right? Turn off the depressing news. Better yet, you go on ahead and make some good/happy news in the lives of folk around you. Best you can.

Keep, your heads up. Keep, looking up. Don’t, look down. The view can get scary from being up so high!

looking up with you,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Have another cup: Peas and carrots.

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=uxtdql1Crsc&feature=share

As a kid I absolutely hated, hated, HATED peas and carrots. Didn’t like them alone, let alone together. Eww! Yech!! Still don’t like them, truth be told. I made a vow, many a moon ago, when I grew up, I would never, ever, eva be forced to eat peas and carrots, again!

Little did I know, poor me, that life would, did, does pass us a nice helping of peas and carrot type situations that we are forced to eat or sit at the table until every one are gone. SMH.

Yikes! I can remember, as a kid, being told we can’t leave the table until we have eaten ALL our veggies. The power struggles that ensued! The fight was on. Pouting, child. Ticked off, adult. Both, with arms folded. Both, determined never to yield. The struggle took forever, seemed to last days and days. Other family members would have already given in, to defeat, choked down the peas and carrots and were off to play outside or do what free kids did.

Christmas, New Year’s Eve, the start of this year has been nothing but peas and carrots. Fresh hell! I am learning to go ahead and eat the damned things. Hard has been helping me. She talks me through each hard bite. She reminds me of how strong, resilient and grateful I will be once plate has been emptied of the dreaded, awful, ew tasting peas and carrots. Can’t be all chili.

Even my chili has tasted like peas and carrots since my girl passed away. I dearly want to not give two damns. Still care. Crap. Makes life soooooooooooooooo much harder actually having to live, through the hard, with Hard. Far easier, it seems, life would be if I could just mail it in. Life is much too short and no idea how many moments I have so can’t waste a moment mailing life in. Kick rocks on that!

I have been only able to swallow one cup, today. Still drinking. Still eating my peas and carrots.

How about you?

We got this. Whether it feels like it, looks like it or not. We got this.

eating my peas and carrots,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

I was so busy living life, I forgot to be sad.

I was so busy living life, I forgot to be sad.

The day, flew past.

The day, contained incredible quiet and joy.

I was so busy living life, I forgot I was supposed to be grieving what was lost, what was never given, what had never been.

The day, surrounded me with hope.

The day, rewarded a day’s hard work with many hours of productive peace.

I was so busy living life, I forgot to be sad.

Looking, at the clock, I found myself astonished at the hours now gone. Yesterday, every second felt an hour. I was so busy living life, today, I forgot to be sad.

grateful,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Holy war(s): Holy Toledo.

PSA: Although, the following events/happenings may or may not, perhaps, perchance, sorta, I ain’t sayin one way or the nother, occurred. Or, perhaps not, I am declaring my innocence, on the front end. My blog, hence, I can and shall do whatevs. Whatevs….*shrug*. So, what had happened wuz…

Normally, I would have inserted a super cute story or super inspiring post. Things aren’t normal, though. At least, not for me. The start of the year has started out…*shrug*. I don’t have the energy, to be cute/inspiring/helpful today. Had just enough energy to scrape myself out of bed into a cup of coffee and onto my job. No energy, none whatever, not even for commas. Hence, the lack of commas in my posts today….*shrug*.

Truth be known, I was done with posting. Done, I tell ya. Just too much damned grief and who gives a damn to dig through, let alone trying to encourage folk who may or not give two damns themselves. So, you get a scraped together be lucky I showed up today for you me, today.

That’s all I got, today. Thankfully, that’s ALL God and Life asks of us: just TRY. One, step. One, word. One, cup. One, of something.

Why?

Because one, leads to two. Two, leads to three. Three, leads to ten. Ten, leads to 50. Before you know it, you have dug your way out, TRYed your way out, found your way out of a mountain of grief and who gives a damn.

I had one cup, of coffee. I also had quite the bit of sad, with my cup. So, I decided to have a second cup. I had a second cup, of coffee. With that second cup, I found a bit of joy. There, just beneath the surface of my French Vanilla. Just a hint, of joy. Just a titch, of giggle. Just a hint, of love/laughter.

Ah!

AH!

I may yet speak of the holy war(s) that took place. Quite the story! Remind me to tell you what happened. Tomorrow.

Today, think I shall have another cup. A last one. To share with Hard. She has been my friend, these past days. She may be a bit tired. Things have been hard, you see….

Take care of you, beloveds, for me. Okay?

Where ever you find yourself, this day, find yourself with another cup. Who knows what you may find. Let me know, would you please/thanks?

forever grateful,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe