Category: These words of mine

my Rich homie

My rich homie lets me borrow his Beamer sometimes.

“Put it in Sport mode,” he says.

I never have.

I glide down highways slowly.

He works a lot,

and we all wish we saw him more—

I wish he saw himself more.

I’ve known him a long time.

Pretty much,

he’s always been rich—

though he doesn’t see it that way.

If he fucks with you,

he’ll tell you the hard truth

about anything you ask.

With me,

sometimes it’s unsolicited.

Our other homie once repeated

something he said

about me

and my job at the time:

“They don’t value her—

and she needs to value herself more.”

That was the gist.

I was pissed.

So pissed.

Then I sat with it.

Picked apart all the reasons

I was upset.

And it was true.

The time had come

for me to reassess

my value.

My rich homie’s truth

can triple salaries.

I’ve seen it.

Makes me believe

even more

that wealth

is internal.

There’s nuance, though.

Always.

Is wealth something

given by God?

Is it our birthright?

Where does it start?

Can you build it?

Or are you

just making visible

what already existed

for you?

What is wealth?

Is it time?

Is it money?

Is it people?

Is it time

to spend the money

with the people?

What is wealth?

What is rich?

Is it a feeling?

Is it worth it?

I’m most certainly

still figuring wealth

and riches out—

and I think

I always will be.

What I do know

is gratitude

makes me feel wealthy.

Thank you, my God.

Thank you.

My rich homie

lets me borrow his Beamer sometimes.

“Put it in Sport mode,” he says.

And maybe,

I will

next time.

Here’s to LOVE

Happy New Year – or as my Earth angel says Happy Now Here.

May God hear, bless, and amplify your intentions to the highest good.

I have been in a season of silence. A lot of listening and engaging with folks who love me as is, people who see me. Thank you and I see you all too. Connecting with people who speak to me in ways that amplify my journey and brighten my light has been transformative. It is healing and I am deeply grateful.

Cultivating an understating of what love is makes it easier to identify where it isn’t- who it isn’t and what it isn’t. Love does not always come from the places you think it will or from who you expect it. I have had to sit with that- the dark and light of knowing that you must go where the love is. Love of self and self reflection make the awareness of the hard truths of love and life easier to process. I know where to go to get the real good shit- that gooood love and I know where not to go as well. Balance. It is what it is.

I start with God’s love and self love.

So here’s to a year of more love – that good good – that we communicate well, show up show out love – that responsive let’s go get a coffee love, that we booked our tickets love, that belly laugh for ten minutes love, that gentle correction love, that knowledge sharing love, that whatchu reading love, that let’s go for a walk love, that 5 hour conversation love, that I love yo style love, that yassss love, that long hug love, that it’s okay to cry for a moment love, that sitting in beautiful silence love, that ancestor love, that we don’t raise our voices love, that we call each other babe not bitch love, that God love, that say it to your face love, that respectful love, that anti-materialism love, that disagree, talk it out, and elevate love, that pull up on Saturdays via Zoom love, that praying for you love, that thankful love, that healing deep love.

Here’s to love – infinitely and long past 2023.

Happy Now Here.

Royal Palm

[found this in an email to myself from 2014]

She rode thru old spaces
Thinking of all those places
The words that fell from faces
Their weight had held her down
Horrified that she would drown
She now realized that  fight she fought
And the fucked up shit it brought
Those actions were the offspring of fear
Amanayea came with the light & made it clear
Fear is Darkness meddling in your mind
Awakened to Truth she put fear’s ass in line
She refused to focus on the fuckedupness of life
the constant replaying of perceived strife
She rode thru old spaces
Thinking of all those places
The words that fell from faces
They were never holding her down-
They were building her up so she could wear the crown