Restoring A Dream

For the first time in a long time, I felt my baby move. And not just move; it was an actual kick. Any of you remember when you first realized that you were ”carrying” and can identify with every emotion that the territory comes with. There’s an unparalleled excitement. You want to share your good news with everyone, because you can’t imagine anyone not being as excited or happy as you. Sooner or later when everyone starts giving their advice on your baby, you begin to share less and keep your mind on your due date. But what happens when you don’t feel what you know is normal in your condition? You feel time has stopped, you’re overdue and your baby isn’t moving. Then you begin to worry about the fulfillment of what was conceived so long ago. You worry and you fear that there may be something wrong with your baby. And when a period of time passes and nothing happens your biggest fear is that your baby might be dead.

No, I’m not pregnant. But I’m still carrying a dream that I’ve long had. I didn’t want an aborted dream. But I was so afraid that that was happening.

At first I thought my dream was stillborn, but came to realize that there was a big difference between an aborted dream and a stillborn dream. If my dreams ended up being ”stillborn”, it was because there was nothing I could do about it. It was too much for me to carry or even handle. It just couldn’t sustain itself and it wasn’t ready for the outside world. A lot of people have stillborn dreams and I honestly thought that was my case. But it wasn’t so, my dreams were being aborted. And it was because either I or someone I’d given opportunity to had purposely and forcibly began to destroyed my dream.

I think what was happening was, I was willfully letting someone give me an abortion. It was someone that didn’t understand. They didn’t know or didn’t care how long I’d been wanting and longing for the manifestation of what I’d conceived. They weren’t there through the tears of conception, when I cried out ”I need more”. They weren’t there when I sat on the edge of a bed asking if there was something wrong with me. They didn’t know that I questioned my ability to conceive, let alone give birth. And gradually I allowed them to kill my baby.

From the time I conceived, I was excited. It took a while before I realized everyone didn’t understand my conception, nor did they share in my excitement. Maybe it’s because what people don’t understand they seek to discredit. I don’t know if it was merely anxiety, but even people that I expected support from, didn’t show any. I think that was why I partly forgot that there was something on the inside of me that needed nurturing for it to be healthy enough to grow and be born, free of defects and deficiencies.

I stopped feeding the dream. I stopped seeking advice on how to keep it alive and healthy. I had heard so much negativity about my conception and subsequent pregnancy. I had heard so much talk of ”what are the possibilities of you accomplishing that?” and ”Do you know how hard that is?” that they convinced me that my dream was too much of an undertaking. I began to think that I didn’t want my baby.

I continued month after month with a dying baby. I stopped even listening when encouragement came saying, ”You’re almost at your due date.” simply because I had fostered so much negativity. I began to tell my dream, ”you’re too much for me”, ”we’d both be better off if I let you go”. This is why I knew it wasn’t a stillborn. With the stillborn dream there comes a peace, because you’ve done all you can.

That aborted dream is the one that kills you, because YOU gave up, not the dream. As I lay back with an inexperienced, uneducated, misguided, back alley dream killer; inside me, a baby struggled to survive, because it wanted to live. And I felt a kick. See as I lay there, with my heart breaking because I didn’t want my dream to die. Someone came by and said to me,

”You are a unique woman, don’t be afraid because what you carry in you greater than you could ever imagine and will be born.” ”HOLD ON, Ali, HOLD ON!”

And my baby kicked!

That was a few days ago and it’s been kicking ever since.
Now every day, when get up, I rise with a completely different outlook and a burning to make this happen and see this to the end. I rise knowing that I’m just that much closer to my due date and I WILL DELIVER a healthy dream!

So maybe I’m saying this for you…. If you pay close attention, and stop ignoring it, you may feel your (dream) baby kick too!

Retrospect

Okay I’ve been delinquent but I had some alone time today and started writing. Something for you to think about….
Retrospect can be a dangerous thing.
Do you think about those missed opportunities or look at what you’ve done in your life and even though grateful for the life you have and the things you’ve accomplished still have days that a smile veils feelings of regret.

Regret can become a fertile breeding ground for disappointments and disappointments can be the stinking manure that grows the forest of regret in your life. Sinatra said, ”Regrets, I’ve had a few…” I guess he was able to count them. (smile)
How many of us sit and number our regrets? You remark, ”This is not where I planned to be, who I planned to be, what I looked forward to in life”. Welcome to the city of Regretville. Population: millions and it’s getting overpopulated!

It’s getting overpopulated because every new resident is accompanied with not only themselves but trailers of baggage of things that can no longer be changed. And even though the events can’t be changed, they’ve so impacted your life that you carry them into every NEW opportunity. You carry the suitcases of people that have hurt you in word and deed. You carry the duffel bags of missed opportunities. You carry the overnight bags of things that are no longer just events in your life; they’re a part of the fabric of your existence.

As I thought about it maybe I do have a couple regrets. But today I’m having an emotional yard sale, so I can make room for a heart filled with hopes and dreams and new expectations. Regret was just cluttering up the place anyway.  How about you?

I Go Down

My face is stained
The tears are like the river after a flood
I have no where to go there is no peace
So I go down

I feel your pain
I hear you as your voice echoes my anger
Can you forgive the thoughts you foster
Will they be adopted by another
I must go down

I will go down to the river
I made with your pain
I will stand at the river and wash it all away
Watch as it travels
I follow along it's banks
For I must go down

Down I will lie as I remove the robe of sorrow you have left
They too must take the river's course
And when they are gone
I will arise from the down

New Expectations

So now I understand. To expect is to believe
To have the unmistakable, undeniable knowledge
That in the end what my heart wants,
what my head knows
Is what I shall have

I understand that the fight I'm in, I'm not alone
I've been set up from day one to fight this
And when it's over I stand as winner
I feel this in my body
that I have what I need

So I must hold on, believe the dream is
Know the now is not meant for later it simply is
I must hold on to what believe
to what I feel in my bones
Is my expected end

Expectations

What about your expectations?
Everyday we expect the sun to rise,
We expect to wake up every morning.
We expect to have a good life despite it's twists and turns
We expect to receive payment after a job well done
Some times we expect a reply after sending a message

We don't often see what we don't expect
We can't anticipate depression and pain
We don't expect loneliness or isolation
You never count on the reflection in the silence
Never calculate it's effect on on how we think and feel
And maybe it's just as well

When we live up to expectations is the living worth it
Whether they're someone's or your very own
And After the trying after the disappointment
What are you truly left with
Shattered hopes and broken dreams
Or are we left with something more

I Cried Today

For all those times
you told me you'd be here
For the pains I felt since you left
for every question you never answered

I cried today because I know you're gone
I look around I don't see you
You said you're leaving and won't be back
So I don't want to be here anymore

I cried today as I thought about our plans
As I remembered our tomorrows
Things we said we'd do when there was time
But time has passed us by

As I saw the sunshine and wished for a storm
That would mimic the tears you caused
Just wash away my sorrow I cried today
And after the tears

And the reminiscence of those days
After the illusions of a time nevermore
I know I must go on
I cried today


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We Are Who We Are

If you like to people watch as I do. (I tell people I'm observational) Online Social Networks are like a playground. I remember before I joined a particular online social network I was hesitant; because to me it seemed like too much of an invasion of my personal space.

Then with some encouragement by some people that I couldn't contact other than through this medium, I joined! And a whole world opened up to me.There were people that before I never would have talked to in regular life that if you were to ask them, we're best friends. (I probably still wouldn't talk to them outside cyberspace) What it has allowed me to do is observe who people are, who they pretend to be, who they want to be and who they wish they were. But I watch this global interaction and wonder how many people see what I see.

Apparently cyberspace doesn't stop us from being who we are. If we crave acceptance, we're happy to become what is expected of us. I've watched people get upset over the simple mention of their names. I've seen people get into arguments that didn't originally involve them all because they're "cool" with some person that once again, if they're like me under normal circumstances they never would associated themselves with originally.

What online social networks offer is a blank slate to creatively introduce yourself to a new sphere of people. And it's interesting how people have used and abused that opportunity. I've seen bandwagon jumpers, internet cliques, thug wannabes, groupies, freaks. At some point, I was trying to figure if I was back in high school. I remember high school and after a few years away from that place, something happened. I GREW UP!

I no longer call my "best friend" to back me up, when I start an argument with someone for talking to my boyfriend or when I get upset with him for talking to my sworn enemy. When someone doesn't like something I've said, I don't get back at them by raining down a slew of insults and requesting back up. I don't instigate unnecessary confrontations with people that I barely know because they said something I didn't like.

I've grown up, so if I don't feel it necessary to add profanity to my name to show how BAD ASS I am. I don't have to become the angry baby mama cliche, or the bitchy black woman that we've become accustomed to see in the media.  I've left behind the days of just saying things to belong.

I don't really think my social experiment will ever be complete, but I'm sure that the showstoppers, down for whatever girls, the unhappy, the unfulfilled, the angry for no reason, the attention seekers, the needy will always be around and always prove that we are who we are or at least who we want to appear to be!

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