No Kink in My Hair



Growing up in Jamaica

No kink in my hair, mine was a Lions mane                                                                                                Long, thick, dark, curly hair -With oh so much texture

To be cursed as a young girl with dry, colored red by the sun locks
Too thick to tame , this was my lot in life
Hours of brushing and combing as I winced in pain
Never dare to move or else the back side of the comb would be felt on your scalp
Ouch! To be punished because of my hair
I began to hate it and want hers
Longing for her white hair, straight hair, long smooth hair, blown by the wind perfect hair
Mine was big, thick and poofy, long and heavy and hot
No pony tail could hold it, so I cut it short but an afro did not suit me
So it began, hot heat, chemicals, straightening, then finally it laid down flat and didn’t get back up
Everyone noticed and told me how pretty I looked
Confirming that before I was not
I solidified the lie in my frontal cortex and accepted that God does make mistakes
This new hair matched my hazel eyes and carmel skin
This was the hair I was meant to have

But it wasn’t mine…
So the journey began back to my roots, back to my heritage, back to loving me
Every morning I looked in the mirror at my lions mane with no clips holding it down
No heat to damage it, no chemicals to take away what was natural
I thanked God for what he had given to me and how He had made me
And a little bit of my identity returned everyday
I became glad again to be me
Happy that I had a head full of thick, long, beautiful. Glory colored highlights from the sun
How my hair began to compliment not only my eyes and my skin color, but also my journey
I twisted it, let the wind blow through it as it dried naturally, allowing the thickness to surround the sides of my face like a crown
I carried the weight of not letting scissors chop off what God had given to me
I was Free to Be…Me!
Then I began to hear “ wow your hair is gorgeous”, “I love your hair”, “how do you do those braids?”, “I wish I could do my hair like that!” and “ you are so pretty”.
I flung my head back and walked like the lioness I knew I was. Letting my mane roar for me.

So whether you have a kink in your hair or a texture unlike another, express yourself however you like as long as you make sure it is not from a place of not loving you. You are fearfully and wonderfully created, so swing your locks, love your twists, pick out that Fro and don’t let your style hold you down. You are more than your hair, you are a lioness so go ahead and let the world hear your Roar!

 

Transition To Triumph

The world operates in cycles. The ocean has a tide that comes in and out and then repeats itself. The moon has a 30 day cycle. A year cycles through four seasons. Life even has a full cycle of birth to death. The length of each of these is varying under the constructs of time, but every full cycle allows a completion of sorts. Each part of the cycle offers something different that allows the entirety of the circle to be completed. A cycle, however long it may be, allows a process to unfold, to take what was and turn it into what is. Every part matters. It all comes together to complete the whole, and then it happens again... allowing for progression, even if part of that cycle may not appear that way at the time. -Live the Legend /Chelsea Dinsmore

In March 2016 I was on the Go Bus heading to visit a friend when I began to have a conversation with the bus driver and he began to share his love for history museums and told me that I had to go to Chatham to a museum in Buxton, Ontario. Now I heard his voice as he spoke but I also heard the audible voice of God telling me I needed to go to Buxton to the museum there because He had something there for me. So I shared this with my husband Wayne and we decided that we would make the trip for our anniversary and take our children along so they could benefit from the experience as well.

So last year on the May 14-15 long weekend we drove to Buxton, Ontario. Now the Buxton Nation Historic Museum is situated on The Elgin Settlement, a tiny town of roughly 200 people near Chatham, was once home to one of the province’s largest historic black settlements to be developed in Canada.  We took the tour and our guide shared with us not just the information about the settlement but also many facts about slavery in Canada and the USA. My family was deeply impacted by the visit as we viewed the many artifacts of slavery that were on display. We continued this journey and decided to go and visit the museum for Uncle Tom’s Cabin which was not too far away in the town of Dresden. This was the settlement that ex slave Josiah Henson lived on and the story was loosely based upon Josiah’s life. It was a great way to spend our anniversary and a healing journey about who we are and what we have overcome as a people.

 So as we were planning our 26^th anniversary this year I had a desire to go to the newly opened African American Museum for History and Culture in Washington DC. I had watched a few interviews that shared about the making of this Museum and I had a longing to see the completed project. So we planned to make the trip but this time we would not take the children with us.

Then in March Wayne bought a Groupon to go on a two day cruise to Bahamas. His plan was for us to extend our trip and do the Museum and then drive to Florida and go on the cruise and head back home during the 4 day long weekend. As we began to plan further we realized that to be able to accomplish the trip successfully in the time that we had allotted that we would have to cancel going to Washington and do that trip another time.

As we began to look for Air plane flights to West Palm Beach the costs were more expensive than the entire cost of the trip including the Cruise.  We struggled with whether we should continue with the plans and I began to pray about why this wasn’t working out like we had planned. Wayne held off on booking the cruise date as after we did that then we would have to forfeit the tickets if we couldn’t arrive in time.

In prayer I felt God reminding me of His message to us the previous year about timing.  Every year we do a vision board and last year our vision board was covered with watches and clocks. God was speaking to us about timing. I felt that the problem with why we were unable to figure out the trip was timing. We were trying to make it happen in the timing and that was why we were having all the difficulty. I shared this with Wayne and eventually he decided that we would hold off doing the cruise till another time and we would go to Washington instead.

Now on Mother’s day at our church we had special speaker the co-founder of the church Pastor Carin came to share the message. The title of her message was Transition to Triumph. It was very powerful and spoke to my heart.  She also had a private message for me about there being no more generational disturbance.

So the following week we set out to drive to the Museum. As all Smithsonian Museums are free we didn’t realize that you need to get pre timed tickets to get into this museum. They had already had over 1 million visitors and been sold out since it opened in September 2016 of last year. They only way to get tickets is to check at 6:30am every morning to see if they have any timed released passes.

The drive to Washington was 8 hours in length and we were having a great conversation and for some reason when I looked at the clock it was Saturday morning at 7am. I got online to try to get some passes and they were sold out. We decided to check into our hotel when we arrived and then just head to the National Mall and check out the area for tomorrow and then go and have dinner.

We arrived and found a parking space while the hundreds of people were exiting the now closed Museum. We spoke to one of the security officers and he told us that sometimes they release tickets at 1pm if they have not reached their maximum capacity. We walked around for a while longer just to familiarize ourselves so we could know where to park and come the following day. We left and went to a nice little restaurant for dinner and then went back to the hotel.

The next morning we awoke early and checked online at 6:30 am to see that they had no timed passes. We were disappointed but somehow I knew that we were going to get in. So we planned to go to the museum and see if they released tickets at 1pm. We arrived after our GPS took us on a little detour and right there as we came on to Constitution Ave. was a parking space as someone was pulling out. A driver told us later that because of the Graduation commencement ceremonies that were taking place on the hill that she had been driving around to find a parking space for a full hour. We arrived at about 10:30 am and Wayne had to go to the bathroom. I told him I would meet him at the bathroom because I had to pack some snacks. After I put the snacks in the bag, I headed across the mall in the direction that Wayne set off for. I arrived at the side of the men’s bathroom and waited outside for him to come out for 15 minutes. Then I heard my name in the opposite direction and there was Wayne near the car waving me to come. I don’t know how he passed me but we had missed each other. We laughed about how that happened then decided we would head to the museum early to clarify how we could get tickets. We arrived to see a long line of people ready to enter for the 11am timeslot. Our plan was to stay in the line till we got to the front and ask when and where do they release the tickets. As we were in the line one of the ticket ushers came up to us to ask us if we had tickets as we were about to answer him a lady beside us intuitively asked if we had tickets because she wanted to give us 2 tickets as she had a few people cancel on her. As Wayne kept thanking her for her generosity she kept apologizing that they were for 12:30pm. So next we asked the usher if we had to wait and he said no we could go right in and then the line began to move and the next thing we knew we were inside the museum.

As we entered the museum Wayne kept saying “how does God do that?” he was amazed that the woman had just came up to us and handed us tickets. He also asked me how I knew we would get in. I told him that God would not bring us this far and not let us come in. I knew we were supposed to come.

So the museum was amazing, we experienced so much while we were there. I don’t want to share too much as not to ruin it for others that may visit. We received emotional and spiritual healing while we were there and we also came away with inspiration and hope for our future. The highlight for me was the creativity and excellence of the museum- it was very interactive and had special meaning for me. When you go in the elevator on the wall they show you what year you are arriving at and you literally begin to think “I am going back in time”. We traveled back into our generational lineage and healing began as we came forward in time to see the struggle and the fight and the victory. If we can begin to understand what we have overcome against all odds to rise above every adverse situation, to arrive at the place we are right now, that is powerful and life changing.

In the circular room of contemplation there is an amazing waterfall and the sound with the lights and the sayings on the walls spoke to me to take a moment and reflect and be still and listen. Here I heard that it was all about freedom. It was about freedom for the people of color, first nations, Jewish descent and every being that has every taken a breath. Gods desire was for us to understand true freedom.

So after 6 hours of exploration we exited the building and lingered with all the others that were on a similar journey as ours. Outside there were street vendor trucks and Wayne went to get himself a shawarma sandwich to eat as I sat on the wall waiting, as I wanted to wait until we went out for dinner. When he returned he gave it to me to take a bite and I told him that it was falafel and not shawarma. He returned to tell the vendor and due to the mistake he gave him the sandwich which became my dinner. This is significant because what happened next may have been different if I hadn’t eaten before hand.

So we headed back to the direction of our parked vehicle. I wanted to go to the right and Wayne was certain that the car was to the left of the Lincoln monument. So as a compromise we decided to go over the hill in the middle and see which way the car was parked. As we came over the hill there in plain view was a Tent called David’s Tent. It was a 24/7 prayer house that had been established in 2015 on Washington National Mall as the longest running outdoor event in history.  This was another surprise from God. That morning Wayne had asked me if I wanted to find a church in Washington to go to and I told him no going to the museum was our focus. But I love to worship and this is the type of music that moves me. We grabbed two seats at the back of the tent in case we needed to sneak away. As the musicians played softly the speaker on the mike shared about all the miraculous things that were happening for their YWAM base. He challenged us to embrace change and the message was exactly what we needed to hear, it was sharing and not a preach message and as we listened a couple that obviously were visitors arrived and put two chairs beside us and sat down. Then the worship music began and I couldn’t contain myself as there was a field of grass for me to dance on. I let loose dancing on Washington National mall and people began to come and take pictures and video to figure out what was happening. I was just thanking God in the one way I knew how for everything He had brought me through and brought me to. Wayne had begun talking to the gentleman that was seated next to him. After about 45 minutes he called me over and said that this couple had come all the way from UK and that God had told them to go to David’s Tent at 5pm that Sunday.  This man was a business man and his business partner from UK that had come to New York and Washington on a mission. They felt that they were to pray and prophesy over us. The words that came next were very prophetic in nature and were answers to us about our time of transition and all the questions we had been asking God while on this trip. Wayne received encouragement and instruction and even had a declaration over us which we received knowing who are called to be. We were stunned, this couple didn’t even go to this gathering, they came all the way from United Kingdom to release a message for us. It was about the generational disturbance being silenced in our lives and us being able to move forward. It was important that they be of UK descent as this is where for us the laws of slavery were established and abolished. Wayne heard from God “I am my Beloved and He is mine” to this business man. So there a was a holy exchange that occurred as Wayne obeyed.

that he was to give his ring from Israel that he has not taken off since 2008 that says

Before we left David’s Tent one of the members of the congregation brought another word of confirmation over us that we were in Transition. Oddly enough the name of the company that Wayne is presently working with is Transition. This was a clear message to us that God was trying to speak to us about where we have been and where we are going. A cycle was about to come to completion.

All the way home we marveled at the orchestration of the entire trip. We were called to go to Washington. The message of being at the right place at the right time was screaming at us. When we released our plans and chose to go His way it worked out better than we could have ever imagine. The woman that was with the gentleman kept speaking the words “ For such a time as this” which was in the original message on Mothers day Sunday by pastor Carin about Queen Esther and her purpose.  The trip, the Museum, the way we found David’s Tent all of it was God directing us. We were on a journey from transition to triumph.

Safe Passage

2 days and 2 sessions planned in the beginning of June a corporate gathering to the place of  Alliston. We would journey there thinking when we walked through the door that we had arrived when in truth the journey had just begun.

As the person at the top of the circle thanked and honored the very ground we were situated on as First nations land my heart began to open up. Then she started the two-way conversation with Inventory time.  Who am I? what do I do?  and what was I feeling? Think, think, feel. Charmaine is ...“more than just a Doula “and  I felt that I was right where I was supposed to be at that very moment in my life. What a lofty statement.

First impressions count, here was a woman so large that her words were like an ocean being dropped into your cup of water, that was how my spirit encountered her, I decide to make a choice to sit in these sessions as a student and learn.  I also felt each person in the room as they too shared what they felt. It became a corporate feeling of oneness for me. I began to let go of predetermined assumptions, continuing to let go for the next 33 hours. But I acknowledged that I am… the only woman of color in the room.

No agenda letting it flow and parking questions so we can continue until the time we arrive. This mastery would keep us on schedule.

 As we continued to unpack the word “trauma” we each softly embraced that each of us was somehow affected in a unique  way. Beginning now to look inward to see where the pain was originating from and where it was seated.  My senses were so heightened that even the smell of cinnamon drew my attention away. I thanked someone out loud for the break, just a moment to breathe.

Where are you carrying the effects of your abuse in your body for surely you have embodied it.  But no I  had already danced it out- let it go and allowed  my new cellular normal to begin to create my future.

I was a new creation but I would walk this weekend in vulnerable transparency to the truth of my past and the strength of my present and the many questions of my tomorrow. Hoping and praying that the one continual tear that constantly fell from my left eye was a state of healing not just for me but for humanity.

Till the words emerged “I am not like my mother”. It vibrated in me like a Chinese gong so loud that I could not only hear it but I also felt it at my very core- I had made a declaration against my heritage and was now on a trajectory that was leading me to begin to receive that which I had rejected that not only belonged to me but that I needed for this next phase on my pathway. I was the best of my mom and the worst of my mother and the process of working this out was happening in the confines of my Doula work.

 Though the experience of trauma is in the eye of the beholder we are called to harm reduction and yet I could see the many ways that I had somehow participated in re-injuring , re-opening, re-traumatizing other peoples old scars to become new wounds. Realizing that the very organizations that we as health and welfare care providers work for are sometimes the perpetrators of re-offending an individual in their most vulnerable moment. This was breaking my heart.

But in the stretch we would sit in a dark enclosed theater and see the view of the world and the ignorance of our growth and how it still affected people today. Marginalized, stigmatized, immobilized, criticized, I can’t breathe. This is not just them this is me.

She asks me what do I need? I need to continue and allow empathy to guide. So I carry on.

Bringing the bananas seemed like such a powerless action and I struggled to find out if there was more in my bag of tools that could possibly replace this as it did not seem like enough to me.

My checkbox of adverse childhood experiences was so sad-10 out of 10 a perfect score that should have rendered me unhealthy, but God… Thankful for the resilience that became apart of my DNA and the trauma informed therapy I received through dancing with God across the world. I am a living testament that change can happen and that your past though it may limit your privileges does not have to predetermine your future. More tears so hard my head hurts.  A little Frankincense a little Myrrh essential oil applied – I begin to vibrate at a higher frequency. I say a little prayer.

As she moved from slide to slide sharing her years of knowledge and increased wisdom she had gained over the years I was triggered and it felt like at one of the deepest levels of my being layers were being pulled back and the raw, real, honest truth was being exposed. I was exposed, un-robed, naked and vulnerable and I was truly still feeling safe. This was a safe space and there was room for even me. So I leaned in a bit deeper and let the pain rise to the surface. Not really knowing what to-do next but just sit in it…  I began to remember the feeling and never relenting work of 49 years of surviving. A lump developed in my throat and I struggled to swallow without letting the sobs escape.

As we ended the first day I committed to stay in the hot loneliness of this pain and let it transform and enlighten me. As I hugged the speaker just needing someone to release what I was experiencing she thanked me and gave permission for me to do the work.

This was about birth or was it really? Maybe it was more about death, death of judgments, assumptions, otherness, labels, and more. Or maybe they are one in the same.

As I came to the end of myself I also came to so many questions. If I am not here to solve anything then why I am I here? To just hold space for someone else to find the answer. I know I am no ones  saviour so then why do I feel like I have this need to save people? Where does God and spirituality fit into this as this is a big part of my world. When I mess up as I know I will because birth is inherently unpredictable and I can’t possibly prepare for every scenario, what do I do next to minimize the fallout. What about her?

Laughter is the only thing that sometimes eases the pressure, without taking away the painful truth. So I laugh, really hard, over and over and over. Then I rest.

A new day. Yesterday was sunny and full of sunshine, today is stormy and full of rain. But we must take every situation as good, letting them bring balance to our life and our world.

Inventory time where am I today- still feeling like I am exactly where I need to be at this moment in my life.

Am I the first person you have told this to and if not how did they respond? Most likely I many times will be a first responder to their traumatic story that to them may seem normal, because for me Orange is the new Black as they say.

My body speaks and what is it saying? I am cold and need a blanket to wrap myself up. Maybe I am not feeling so safe today.  More information via a story but I shut down and don’t listen as it is too painful a reminder of the work I do and the vicarious trauma I experience.  So, I eat. Eat chocolate my go to fix it food, Comfort sets in as my sugar levels rise.

Then I purpose again to stay present to the moment and focus on each task, putting the distractions away, again leaning into the discomfort.

 We begin to discuss what safe means and how to build trust. Wow this was the themes of almost every therapy session I have ever attended. I have the answers but is it enough? Am I safe? can I trust? How can I help others at risk to trust me if this question still lingers?

I begin to mindfully replay the many stories I have witnessed, personal and professionally. I am intentionally uncomfortable trying to feel the impact of how these have shaped my perception and responses.  Why have I left out the impact that my childhood sexual abuse had on my pregnancies out of my recently written book about my five births and how do I unpack what that would look like to not leave out that aspect of my experience?

As we worked in groups I get to connect with some of the most caring professional care givers in many different birth contexts such as, labor and delivery nurses, midwives, doulas, massage therapists, childbirth educators, social worker and a spiritual Psychotherapist. But I don’t see them through this lens, I begin to see their inward hearts. Wow now my heart is overflowing. Love has a unique way of sneaking in. Now that constant tear is streaming out of just my left eye like a signal that I a not in control even of my natural body functions. As I brush it away I am fully aware that the significance is very important and that I can not take what is happening lightly.

After a lunch of comfort soup,  I carry my blanket and wrap myself up and am excited that they have provided play dough for us to relieve stress. For me it released my creativity as I always hear better when I am in creation mode. Seemingly preoccupied I use the soft pliable green dough to make a caterpillar, butterfly, tree, pregnant woman, cradled baby, flower and few more shapes, but in reality I am hearing at a whole new level. I begin to feel free and even smile and chuckle out loud.

Again with each slide shared I am looking to continue in student mode and find at least one thing that is new to me and write it down, I also contribute some of my experiences and questions and begin to feel a new confidence that the previous work I have done with survivors is very similar to pregnant women going through this.

The rain has now stopped and the sun has begun to peak through the clouds and the unnatural lights we turned on are no longer needed. We are sitting in the light. And for some strange reason I no longer feel cold. No blanket necessary.

Another phrase to add to my vocabulary is “It all depends”. Which says that each situation will need to be assessed with its own criteria and then evaluated as to the best practice for that specific desired outcome. This means there is no one set answer for each situation.

I also say again that I am more than “just a Doula” as I hear another person use these words to describe the power dynamics between health care professionals and Doulas.

Girl… that’s rough. That’s where I come from and who I am. Cultural relevancy is my answer as many of the talk we use would be fake and seem unreal to me or my clients. Each need to find the space they are called to. Urban behavior is what I know. So I go to the urban dictionary. Yet my mind translates all the correct lingo and language so the output is in essence the same.

Grounding exercises I have been trying to stay grounded the entire weekend, tapping my knees, breathing deeply, focus, focus, focus. Not just an exercise but a way to survive and thrive.

And last but most importantly the repetitious teaching of self care and preservation. In this work and all work that involves humans and the reality of their existence and the pain of their encounters is the need to consistently put on your breathing mask before helping anyone else. I have let this become essential to my lifestyle, not a luxury but a necessity.

My stone is to bear witness that I was here and that when I forget I will remember that I began this good work and someone else will be faithful to finish it. The time of our collective energy had come to an end.

After the good byes and on the car ride home we drive through a rain shower and both the rain and the sun are simultaneously occurring. I remember that you have to see both as good and let them create for you … oh my word it’s a rainbow draped across the sky! I scream like a little girl so loud I startle the other her in the car. Rainbows speak of promises to me. They symbolize every journey I have ever taken. A sign from God that I am on the right path. I scream and cry and am so grateful for this moment in time.

It has been a safe passage. Thank you.

Charmaine Hinds June 2017

Love

Love is wide and deep an expanse no one can measure 
Sharp and soft with edges not to be touched 
Electrifying and of the highest possible frequency 
How powerful and great it is

Love goes beyond every barrier in to the smallest spaces 
Causing everything in its path to grow
It divides and unites and overflows
Love is full of tears and pain with a dull ache for more 
It is neither black or white for it knows no color
but is like the rainbow stretching across the sky 
It is a promise that is never broken

A delicate rose blooming to fullness by drops of dew so careful not to grasp at thorns
Leading footsteps on cobblestones of old and staircases with angels to heaven 
As it diminishes anger and releases forgiveness 
Being neither partial to wealth or poverty, abundance or scarcity
There is no force like love causing change to evil and injustice

Love can be found in the exchange of rings and the first cry of a newborn babe
In the look of exchange between mother and child 
Heard in the song of the birds in spring or the sight of icicles and snowflakes on a cold winter day
Love is home after a long visit , the light in the window at night

Love is a reproducer of love , a multiplier, infectious, contagious, transmittable 
How blind it is yet it sees everything… the past the present and the future
Love is so loud , yet it whispers and always speaks of love
As it is founded on truth and pivoted by deep secrets
Love is joy and hope braided together by peace 
A three stranded cord not easily broken 
Love believes all things, hopes all things, Love never fails.

Bad Boy Syndrome

I was reflecting the other day and looking back at my teenage years and the boys that I chose to date and be involved with before I met my husband and I realized that I had what they call “bad boy syndrome”.
Remember in the movie “Grease” Sandy being attracted to Danny? I was always involved with the Danny of my day.

Well I began to ask my older more wiser self why were you attracted to these boys knowing that nothing good could come from this? 

Well the sixteen year old me said “ They were fun, passionate, exciting and mysterious” and I was young and had this crazy idea that I could tame the flame but instead many times I just ended up getting burned. The bad boys I dated weren’t all bad and that what was attracted me to them. They let me into their kinder more softer and even intimate side. I am an optimist at heart and even at a young age I believed that people could change. These relationships were brief as my truth meter would always wake me up and help me to realize that if I continued it could end dangerously. 

Though many times my heart was broken in pieces and I cried myself out of the break up I always seemed to dodge the bullet. I dated a person that later became a drug dealer and died as an addict. I was in a relationship with a cheater that ended up having multiple babies with different women. Then there was the boyfriend that left me for my best friend, or how about the guy who ended up spending 20 years in jail. Then there was the bullet I wasn’t able to dodge in the boyfriend that raped me. I have a few more that I can only imagine how their stories ended.

But after all this I found the good guy in my now husband of 27 years. He was an answer to prayer but the more I look back and remember it I truly believe that my homing beacon knew that I could never accomplish my purpose in life if I was connected in covenant with the wrong person. Because I rejected the “bad boys” I was available to meet the “right boy”. I was also blessed that he had passion, excitement and was a bit mysterious. 

I just want to warn all you young girls and women out there that are interested in the good looking, hot passionate guy that has a bad streak. Listen to the truth you know and walk the other way. Find the person that will compliment your purpose , the one that will love you unconditionally, faithfully and that you can trust with your heart. Broken pieces are not easy to put back together but worse is a thwarted and delayed destiny. Don't let a bad boy cause you not to reach your full potential.

Broken Pieces

Broken Pieces

Today while having a discussion with a very close friend about forgiveness and the power of it, I received some mighty words of wisdom and a very powerful picture lesson.

 This is my interpretation of her explanation;

She said that every time that we have an interaction with someone and we take offence or are hurt we leave a piece of ourselves with that person and many times go away from that relationship because of the pain with unforgiveness in our hearts and we think everything is still OK. When in truth we have a lot of little pieces of ourselves with all of the people that we have not forgiven. The moment that we forgive each person those pieces of ourselves are returned to us and this is how we become whole.

As she was explaining this analogy to me something amazing happened. I began to see a visual picture of understanding of just how powerful releasing others is to being a whole person. I loved this word picture.

I have always embraced the truth about forgiveness but this picture added to the many instances that I have personally experienced the power of releasing someone that has done you wrong.  But something else was added to what she shared as well, I began to understand what happens when someone else has something against you and is holding a piece of you and refuses to let you go.

Now like everyone else I have forgiven many people not because they deserved it or even because I felt it would make the situation better. I forgave because I had a understanding of how bitterness can set in when we hold un-forgiveness in our hearts and minds towards another one of Gods children. I have done this to set myself free and to be able to love the way God says we as his Sons and Daughters should respond.

During a specific incident I had an individual that was very close to me refuse to forgive me for something she felt she was right about. I had over a period of time released her in forgiveness and had asked her to forgive me as well. She chose not to accept the gift I was offering and instead made the conscious choice to continue to keep a piece of me. Our relationship that was once very close was now estranged.

Even though we were not in constant contact I could feel that there was something that was still holding me and I needed to make it right. I am not into the practice of forcing anyone  to do something against their free will. So I began to pray and ask God to help this person to forgive me. It took almost 3 years but it happened.

 I saw her at many events but each time she avoided me and I could feel the pain of what she was carrying and it made my heart sad. I wanted to be free from her un-forgiveness so I continued to pray. Then one day while I was at a prayer event she walked in through the door. Somehow I knew that that day she would forgive me.

During a special prayer time I was asked to pray for her by one of the leaders and as I blessed her and spoke Gods word over her life something happened. Later that day she came up to me and spoke a word of blessing and release over my life and the piece of myself was returned to me.

Through this situation I began to understand not just the power of me forgiving others, but also the power of receiving forgiveness from others. These small pieces of myself can be used to torment and hold me from being the person that God has always intended me to be.

I began to start to pray for anyone that was holding anything against me in their hearts and minds.  I began to call back the pieces of myself that were being held hostage.

Then true freedom and the feeling of it started to flow my way.

My prayer is that this visual explanation would touch your life as well and that you would begin to call back all the pieces of yourself into position so that you can become whole again

Forgive and be forgiven and walk in the power of it.

In Kind

The value of money is the measuring stick that most people use to rate success. If you are one that is successful then you will have lots of money in your bank account. If you are good at whatever you do then someone should pay you lots of money to do it and the better you are at what you do the higher you should be compensated. And the more financial value you have then you are able to get or do anything that you want to that requires money.

My belief system is a bit different. I have deemed to value that every time I accomplish the purpose that I was created for that whether I get financial remuneration or not that that is success to me. I believe that God pays back those that sow generously. And many times he pays “in kind” not dollar for dollar value. Many of my time is spent volunteering at jobs that other people would never do if they were not getting financial compensation.  At other times I have received goods and services as payment for many of the goods and services that I provide. Many call this a bartering system.

                                                           

I was dancing at a Black History month celebration at Vanier Correction facility for women and was wearing a few African accessories, one of which was a very special cowry shell belt that had great significance for me. A friend mentioned my belt and I proceeded to share about the value of the cowry shell in ancient civilizations such as Africa and how it was as a form of currency.  To wear a belt such as the one I had on that had an abundance of shells on it meant in those days that I would have been considered an important wealthy woman.

I proceeded to do our dance presentation with the women that were being held in Vanier. Our theme and the song we did the choreography to was the “The color purple” and how it was a sign of wealth and that it was primarily worn by royalty or people of means and substance. Our dance and my poem was about the color purple being returned to people of color and also to all people that find God.

After the dance the co-ordinator gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers a gift bag with numerous small trinket items and a card thanking me for what I do in the prison.

When I was driving home, I picked up my eldest son and after he saw the items he asked me if I get paid for what I do in Vanier. I told him that they don’t have a budget so I actually pay to go and volunteer as I cover all my own expenses. But that they repay me with gifts “in kind”. I was so thrilled to be appreciated in this manner and began to think about what a blessing this was.  I went home and promptly displayed my blessings to remind myself of why I do what I do.

After meditating on my answer to him a little further I realized that the satisfaction that I receive from helping women like these to have some hope and to be courageous in the midst of very trying circumstances was actually payment enough.

The following day as I was speaking to the volunteer co-ordinator at the correctional Facility about my volunteer work as a Doula for the pregnant women, our conversation drifted to these thoughts that had been spoken the day prior. As I began to share a few of my experiences with the women and one in particular that had a full circle moment theme, I began to see the vast wealth that I possess and how God has repaid me many times over “in Kind”. I am a wealthy woman, rich beyond measure because of the spiritual cowry shell belt that I wear around my waist. People in today’s society may not understand the value of what I possess because they have traded in cowry shells for dollar bills as a means of value.

But to me every shell on that belt represents a wealth and success that cannot be quantitative in human logic or reasoning. It defies the logic and order of our financial world system that says that people provide a goods or a service and receive a monetary dollar value as payment and if you have a need for something then you need to have money to pay for it.

My value system says “give and it shall be given to you, pressed down shaken together and running over, shall men and women give to you” or “ better is it to give than to receive” . “If you believe then nothing shall be impossible for you”  and “ the just shall live by faith”.

I have settled this issue but I am still putting it into real life application as I oppose the system that says that it can’t be done. Somehow I know that what I believe is truth to me.

FROZEN

I was frozen. I was stuck and couldn’t not move or talk or think.  He was on top of me and after a few minutes of struggle where he was overpowering me physically some internal instinct of survival told me to stop wrestling and accept the inevitable and live to tell the story by just staying still, by staying frozen.

This was the story of my rape. (Rape is unlawful sexual activity and usually sexual intercourse carried out forcibly or under threat of injury against the will usually of a female or with a person who is beneath a certain age or incapable of valid consent)

I was 17 years old and dating the star basketball player at a rival school. He was tall and good looking and all the girls were crazy for him. We began going out and he seemed to be a nice enough guy. He took me on a few dates and that summer was looking like it would be a lot of fun.

That same summer a friend of my mother had given me a house sitting job while she was away visiting her family in Jamaica. She lived on the 10^th floor of our building and she asked me to weekly get her mail, water her plants and dust her furniture.

I made the mistake of telling my new “ boyfriend” that I was doing this job and  he came up with a great way for us to spend some private time together. He would meet me on the 10^th floor during one of my visits and we could be together. Now I wasn’t a virgin I had lost my virginity and had sex already with a previous boyfriend but I was not planning on having sex with a guy I had just begun to date. I had the thought that we would kiss and hug and maybe fool around, but I made a foolish mistake as we didn’t have any discussion about this.

So he arrived at the apartment and I let him in and he watched while I did the chores and then we began to fool around like young teenagers do. I don’t know when it changed for him but I remember when it changed for me. There was this one moment when I began to feel like I wasn’t comfortable anymore and I tried to move off the couch. He grabbed my hand pulled me down and before I knew what happened he was lying on top of me and I began to tell him that I wanted him to stop and I writhed my body underneath his and tried to move my position and instantly realized that this 6 foot 2 tall guy had me pinned down like we were in a wrestling match.

I asked him to get off me a few times nicely and softly , maybe I wasn’t stern enough  as I fought to remove him off of me and then it happened, I froze. As he continued to quickly remove my clothes and began to have sex with me I became as stiff as a board and went into survival mode. This was a learned behavior from my days as a young girl when my stepfather would sexually abuse me at night. I would leave my body and my mind behind and go somewhere else so that I could cope with life when he was finished. And now this coping mechanism was failing me at a time when I could have and would have screamed, punched and told this guy to get the hell off of me. I was frozen and didn’t have the skills to do anything.

When it was all over I was like a robot and my memory now fails me as to what happened next. All I remember was the next day him trying to call me and me not ever wanting to talk to him again. I never did.  I told my best friend what happened and cried for two days about how stupid I had been and that this guy was an over privileged jock that felt that he had a right to treat young women like pieces of flesh and not like l was a real person. Needless to say many of my female friends were shocked that I had let a good looking catch like him get away. How could I share with them that he had left me… “frozen”.

This is similar to the story Frozen by Disney of Elsa’s response to a traumatic event – She caused everything around her to become frozen.

I have since dealt with the pain of this incident in my counselling sessions about my sexual abuse and have many years ago disabled the frozen mechanism within that had helped me to cope with some of the most horrible memories that I had experienced in my life.  Yet I still wonder what would have happened to me if I had chosen some different tools that others use to deal with this type of abuse. Many turn to drugs, alcohol, withdrawal, sexual promiscuity and other means just to live another day. So in some ways I hated being frozen but this state of being actually helped me to get to the very moment in my life when I could be thawed and warmed by love. I may never know what would have taken place had I been able to make some other choices but that isn’t my story and it isn’t my ending. I have since forgiven that young teenage boy full of hormones and ideas about what sex was like. I have also forgiven myself for yielding to a frozen state of being.

Gods plan for me was never that I become frozen and locked in a tower trying to stay away from those that can hurt me or those I may possibly hurt back. I was made to have a heart of flesh and to use the power of love to release my voice to speak, to be heard and not to allow vulnerable situations to render me powerless.

Maybe you have never experienced a situation like this or maybe you have, my message to you is that survival isn’t the only way to live life. God has a bigger plan so don’t stay frozen or numb. Don’t let shame, pity, guilt, anger, vengeance, frustrations, flashbacks, triggers or any other kind of abuse render you immobilized and unable to live.  Use that energy and force for good and channel all the love in the world towards yourself.

Like the famous song out of the Frozen movie it is time to just “Let it go”.

Freedom

I was taking a course to become a bereavement companion and was at my weekly training class and the instructor that week was running us through an exercise that taught me something so valuable about what I believe.

She handed all of the students, twelve small pieces of blank paper.  She then instructed each of us to write down three people we love , three things we have that are important to us , three activities we enjoy doing and three quality traits about ourselves, all each on a separate sheet of paper. This took a lot of thought for me and in a short amount of time I wrote down the following.

3 people I love - I chose Wayne my husband because he is my soul mate and very important person in my life. I have five children and could not choose between any of them and so I left them out. I choose my mother and one of my girlfriends.                                                                                                                                

3 important things to me - My wedding ring, my writings, my bible,                                                                                     

3 activities I enjoy- dancing, writing, talking                                                                                                                      

3 quality traits about me- intelligent, creative and free

After this she asked us to close our eyes and she began to walk us through a visual meditation and gave us instructions as we moved along.  

You are not been feeling well and have made several visits to the doctor and are now in his office where you have received a fatal diagnosis. Take a moment and breathe and pay attention to what you are feeling.  You leave the doctor and get in your car you are finally alone, what thoughts are coming to you? You arrive at your home and begin to process this information before sharing the news with your family. How will you tell them? How will they respond? What are you feeling now? Days begin to pass and you begin to experience the loss that comes with this illness. At this point she asks us to throw away any 2 pieces of paper.  

Now I am a very visual person and because I meditate often, I was very much involved in this exercise. My whole being began to see myself with a fatal illness and I began to experience the feelings of helplessness. I took time and thought in what I would throw away and discarded 2 pieces of paper.

As she walked us through the rest of the exercise going into detail about what someone who has a fatal illness experiences and then gave us the choice to throw away pieces of paper that represented “you” it became more difficult and harder to throw away. I also began to understand that this was all about the loss that comes with death. We were finally down to three pieces of paper and all this time I had been thinking and prioritizing the order of what I would choose next and slowly letting go of the loss of things that I thought represented me. Then suddenly she sprung a surprise on us that caused me to gasp so loudly that everyone in the room looked my way to see if I was ok.

She was going to come and take the next piece of paper.

Right then I lost something that I realized was very important to me. I didn’t have any more choices. This profoundly impacted me and I began to pray as I had three things left that were very important to me.  The three pieces of paper were Wayne my husband, my Bible that represented my faith and the quality of free which represented my freedom.

I quietly under my breath began to say take my Bible or Wayne , take my Bible or Wayne , please don’t  take my freedom. I wanted to be left with my freedom, because I felt I knew the word in my heart and that was enough for me. I knew I was one with Wayne and I was willing to let him go as well.

Sure enough she picked the piece of paper that said Bible and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was even sweating at this point and was very heavily invested in this challenging pretend exercise.

Now she had come to the end of our journey and we were near death and at the hospital and she would come around again and remove another piece of paper. I was a bit more relaxed this time around as it worked out ok the last time and I just believed that just the thought that I wanted her to take Wayne was good enough and as I looked at the last piece of paper in front of me- there was the word Free. I was so happy that I had my freedom and that no one could take that away from me.

Then she told us to rip up the last piece of paper because we had now died. She told us that everything was gone and nothing was left.

As I slowly ripped the paper containing my freedom I had a thought, then a feeling and then a revelation. I would never lose my freedom even in death I would still be free or maybe even freer than ever before, because of my faith and my beliefs about death. I would gain back everything and more of what I had lost. I was so happy and relieved at this point that my heart became full and I began to smile with my teeth showing!

She gave us a few moments to sit quietly and to process this exercise and then asked us to share with the group anything about how we were impacted by the exercise. I shared what happened to me and was able to use this as a platform to share my faith in the midst of this class that had many different types of people with different beliefs about death and the afterlife. But this would also set the undertone for my work in bereavement. Freedom would be a pillar of my belief surrounding death and loss. I would use it to frame my life work in every way as I could now see the importance of this state of being to me. This thread has been woven throughout the course of my life and is my eternal message to the world. I am free to be me, you are free to be you and no one can take that from you.

I would have never imagined that one of the greatest lessons I would learn in my life would come from a pretend exercise to help me understand how to be a compassionate bereavement companion.

I was my own Drug Dealer

Now I know what your first thoughts must be when you read a title like this one but read on before you make any assumptions, judgments or refer to your already established preconceived ideas and beliefs about drug dealers.

I was a drug addict and I was addicted to the drug Fiorinal. It came in a pill form that is taken orally that contains butalbiltal, aspirin and caffeine.  It was prescribed for me by my heath care professional as I was a chronic migraine suffer. Now for those of you that have never suffered a migraine you may have some difficulty understanding how I could be a wife, a mother of three, professional business woman and a Christian leader and still become addicted to drugs. But if you have ever had one migraine or like myself suffered daily with a pain so excruciating that you thought your head would explode and that surely you had a bomb going off in your brain and this was it- your last moment on earth. Or at the least you felt like you wanted it to be. Then you will fully understand my story.

Now all drug addiction starts with one main ingredient- pain. You have some sort of pain and you want it to subside, go away or just be able to forget it for a while. My pain wasn’t just internal, it wasn’t imaginary, neither was it getting any better, as a matter of a fact it was getting worse and more frequent. Like every human being that suffers, I really just wanted it to stop. For many years I tried natural ways to handle the intensity of these headaches that were quite debilitating and most of the time I just suffered through the pain and became more resilient.

So when my doctor offered Fiorinal to me I thought about it and felt that the benefit to me would be worth any of the risks of the side effects. Never did I once imagine that becoming addicted would be a side effect.

This is what happened. The Fiorinal actual began to work. Whenever I felt an aura or the beginning of a migraine coming on I would take a Fiorinal and sometimes it wouldn’t go any further and if it did then it would just be a light headache and end very quickly. This was a miracle drug to me as I had suffered with migraines from a very young age and nothing had ever given me this type of result.

But then after renewing my prescription a few times I remember my husband asking me if I thought maybe I was taking too many of them. I became irritated and angry, I even suggested that he was more worried about all the money they were costing than he was about me. Yes as any drug addict can tell you money wasn’t an object to stop me from getting my next fix. Fiorinal was not cheap, it was pretty expensive but it was worth the relief or at least that was the lie I was telling myself so I could live supposedly pain free.

 In truth I had increased the dosage prescribed, I was taking it more frequently and even if I had a thought that my head might begin to hurt I popped in a pill. After some secret soul searching I had to admit to myself that I was addicted. But what was I going to do? I couldn’t go back to the pain.

In here lies the dilemma that every addict asks themselves- do I go back to the way it was? What do I do now? I was faced with the truth that I was addicted but felt powerless to stop. As I put the pros and cons on the scale to measure it was very imbalanced. The drugs were heavily winning. In my mind I needed these drugs to continue with life. Or did I?

I was brought back to my early childhood when I was a thumb sucker for comfort. Sucking my thumb was something I began as a baby in my crib all alone to soothe and comfort myself when no one was giving me love and affection. It continued into my childhood and even adolescence until I was 12 years old and my buck teeth began to protrude out. Then one day I just threw away the embroidered pillowcase that I used to scratch when I slept and sucked my thumb. I had tried everything to stop up until this point. I had put the most disgusting things on my thumb, wrapped it up at night, hid it under my pillow while I slept , but every morning when I woke up my thumb was still in my mouth. Then one day I just decided that I wasn’t ever going to suck my thumb again and I stopped. I never sucked my thumb ever again. Cold turkey is what they call it. I made a decision and I stuck to it.

That was what I would do now. So I fired myself as my own personal drug dealer. I flushed away all the pills I had left in the toilet and to this day have never taken another Fiorinal or other drug for the migraines. The withdrawal symptoms were difficult but I was determined to beat this addiction.  I was also willing to face the pain and instead of masking the hurt I would go on a search to find the root cause of why these headaches had such control in my life. I am glad to say that I am no longer a migraine sufferer but the way I received that miraculous healing is for another story.

  They now have a warning attached to Fiorinal -This medication may cause withdrawal reactions, especially if it has been used regularly for a long time or in high doses. In such cases, withdrawal symptoms (such as nausea/vomiting, mental/mood changes, seizures) may occur if you suddenly stop using this medication. Consult your doctor or pharmacist for more details, and report any withdrawal reactions immediately. Though very unlikely, abnormal drug-seeking behavior (addiction) is possible with this medication.

I really wish that this warning had been on the bottle I began using when this drug first arrived on the market. But then I wouldn’t have had the understanding or the courage to face the truth about the pain that I was experiencing that was the catalyst for these migraines. Truth comes to us in many ways and my prayer is always that no matter how difficult or painful the process, that aligning my life with Truth would be a foundational principle that I choose to live by. 

Truth and Reality- a story of depression and hope

I had just completed my third fashion show production under my company Charms Presentations and was in my hotel room at the Holiday Inn discussing  what had happened with my husband the following morning. The reviews were coming in and everyone was commenting how amazing the show was. It was flawless and they all loved it and though this was the answer I wanted to hear, I knew the truth. It was a disaster but only to those who could see behind the scenes. I had difficulty with the models, some of the clothing went missing, sales were low and I would have to financially cover the overage personally. In this very moment something inside me went still and I began a journey that would take me into my “pit” experience.

I am not quite sure exactly what happened but this I know – that the analogy of life being a fashion show and everyone only caring about what they saw on the outside and their perception of perfection being that everything they saw looked ok, triggered something in me to begin to deal with what the truth about what is really happening behind the scenes, in the wings.   I began to understand that success is measured in totality and truth not perception of reality.

I was living a lie. My life was all about the perception of reality and there were things in my life that were very wrong. I had lies I had told my self to just survive but now they were taking over and beginning to control me. I had begun a journey to deal with the truth.

I began to travel into a very dark place and after a while I found myself in what I now refer to as the “pit”.

This place is dark and lonely and desolate and cold and hard and you have no energy and you cry continually- some call it depression others have names to label it but all I know is that I was in a pit and I couldn’t do anything to get myself out. It was too deep and too wide and I was too tired and confused and overwhelmed and lost.

I gave up on everything – I was lost deep in myself. I stayed on my couch for days and couldn’t tend to anything, I struggled to do the very basic things, I couldn’t talk or pray or even the sight of my children caused me to cry. I had a new born infant during this time and this too may have been one of the reasons that I reached the precipice of the pit at this time. I was unable to bond with her and my mother instinct was dormant.

I knew I was in a bad way but my natural human instincts to pretend and get on with life were not working. I was facing truth and behind the scenes there was a mess. This mess was me.

I don’t know how long this went on for but it felt like months and years. But then one day when everything was really dark and I thought my life was over and I didn’t even care anymore then something amazing happened. I heard a voice deep in me telling me to grab His hand. I had heard so many voices during this time but this voice was different. The other voices were telling me that I was a failure, useless, a liar, I didn’t deserve to live. But this voice was sweet and gentle and strong and powerful and so full of Love and then I saw the hand. It was reaching down into “my pit” and offering me hope. I couldn’t believe that He would come this far for me and that He still loved me and wanted to rescue me. It took everything within me and all the strength I could find to grab a hold of that hand and let Him pull me up and out of that pit.

Now, I want to tell you that instantly everything was better, but in truth it was just the beginning. But  now I had hope.

I would hold onto that hand as a very lifeline as I daily began to find my way back from the distance that those lies had taken me to. I began to face the truth and speak out what was really happening and what I was experiencing and what I was struggling with. I began to tell shame and guilt that they were no longer welcome and that I was getting help from another source. Fear became my enemy and hope became my strength. Everyday I was becoming a little bit more … free. Free from the past, free from bondage of a reality that wasn’t based on truth, free from unhealthy relationships, free from letting the darkness overcome any light that was trying to shine through. I was letting Him pull me out of the pit.

Now I know I haven’t shared with you all the gory details of what happened in my counselling sessions, what steps did I take to become free and  I am sure you are wondering what were the lies she was believing? But none of those things really are the focus of what I am sharing with you. The reason I am telling this story is because I wanted to acknowledge my pit experience and let anyone out there know that your experience is real though it may be different than mine. You may feel like you are in a deep dark space or a wilderness, a desert, a dry place, or maybe locked in a cage, a jail or even feel like a slave or a prisoner, maybe you don’t even have words to describe where you are but I wanted you to know that there is someone who can help you. Listen to the voice that is extending His hand to you and let Him pull you out, lift you up, shine the light, unlock the door, give water to your soul. Let Him rescue you.

And then do the everyday work that may be hard sometimes, but is required to gain your freedom.

What you are experiencing is just the beginning of your journey from darkness to light, from pain to joy, from empty to full, from lies to truth and it can become glorious if you surrender and travel the path back from reality to truth.

I know you can do it – because I did.