Seriously, the time-bomb on the clock of life is moving faster than it used to when I was a kid. It always leads me to believe that time is a made up thing. The idea of how time works, at least. We find ourselves counting down the clock for the last 15 minutes of our work shift--which, in reality, feels like 20 hours. Yet, when we're doing something we absolutely love and enjoy, time moves too fast. It's a mental thing, no?
Well, I came back to my blog and realized that my last post was 10 days ago. It made me think, wow, 10 days. What has happened in 10 days? Life can be a complete blur sometimes. Can you agree?
For me, lately, it's been easy to let the days go by and have zero expectations. Depressing, I know. It's because I've reached the point in my life where I'm in such a ball of anger and frustration wondering why I'm not doing what I absolutely love with my life. What's holding me back? So, these past ten days and the circumstances around me have led me to this post--vulnerability.
Let's start at the beginning. After I attended the Texture on the Runway show, it inspired me. It inspired me so much, but also upset me. Why did I cut my hair? Funny story, I cut my hair a little over a month ago and it was no more than 3 days later when I received an email. Casting for Texture on the Runway. I was annoyed. You mean to tell me, Naturally Curly, that you waited for me to cut my hair to send an invite to come out for this casting? Tuh! So, though I was inspired by the show, I felt defeated.
Something that I grew tired of being identified by, I longed to have back in my life--my hair. I cut my hair for so many reasons. But, after some time, like Samson, I felt like I lost my power. I'm one who always experiments with my hair. I went from long--crying at an inch of my hair being cut off--to a bob, to a buzz cut to a curly fro and now here. My short haircut. To say the least, I feel really vulnerable. It's intriguing to me how I have been reading a lot lately about women who decided to go on a natural hair journey only but a few years back and are now deciding to do the big chop. When you have a curly fro, you're able to hide behind it--not just your face, but flaws, fears and insecurities.
Moving on, we were back to recording for the podcast. After having such a great conversation that we were excited to share, the feedback from the Mic came back and sounded terrible! This was actually the second recording in the last few weeks that we've done and had a bad result. Still, I told myself to push past it and look forward to future recordings.
Last Tuesday, the 12th, I had an opportunity to be an interviewee for another Podcast other than my own. This was a great chance to get back into the feel of my poetry, which I was going to recite on air, and speak on upcoming projects that--although I was/am in complete doubt of-- I would be soon working on or putting out. Unfortunately, I received a disturbing call in the middle of it, before getting to my segment.
My grandmother passed away. I actually received the text saying "Grandma Lou died" from my little sister. It broke me, completely. I couldn't go on with the show, obviously. Immediately, I requested an Uber, hopped in and headed back to Staten Island and made my way to the nursing home, which is where my grandmother took her last breath. I cried. I sobbed. I broke down and wrapped my arms around my grandmother for nearly an hour. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening. I almost felt like this was a prank. Dealing with this situation was hard for me. I had only ever lost one other person who was truly close to me before, but my grandmother. She was MY Louise.
So, days went by, my house was very quiet, full of tears and yet, love and support. Two days later, it was time for the viewing. I never knew that it could all happen so fast. It was almost as if this was all a part of a plan that I just couldn't figure out. The beauty of it, Grandma did not suffer and she is with the greatest of all time.
What led me to write this vulnerability post?
I believe that I am strong in many areas. Finding my way through adversity by my faith is something that I have learned to master, as much as I can, over the years. However, these past 10 days proved my weakness. It proved to me that I allowed my grandmothers passing to collide with my insecurities, doubts and worries. Which, in turn, put me in a state of mourning with a side of self-pity and a toe in depression.
Of course, when you lose someone so close to you, it's hard. For me it was super hard. I absolutely loved my grandmother and genuinely felt like she had more years. I wanted her to be at my wedding and meet her great grandchildren. So many memories will stick with me, nonetheless. And yet, I know that my grandma wanted the best for me and my siblings. She would want us to celebrate her life, rather than glorify her death. She would want for us to take our greatness to the next level, rather than sinking in self-pity.
This experience taught me two things. 1) I will never forget my grandmother, even though she has left this earth. 2) Time may feel like a man-made thing, but I have no control over time--only the things that I do with my time.
I know that I've got to shake this stink off of me and get back to the focused, driven, determined, creative person that I am destined to be. If not for me, then for my grandma.
Also, I've learned that the best way to discover self is to be vulnerable. Find out what area it is that you're most weak. Allocate your greatest strengths and characteristics into different purposes that will not only benefit you, but bring joy to others.
Moving forward, this is for my Lady Louise.