Category Archives: Resilience
Exhaustion
It’s #thatawkwardmoment when you realize your parents were right… or worse, when you hear yourself sounding just like them. As far back as I can remember, my Dad has always said “You’re doing too much. Sit down. You cant’ be two places at the same time. Slow down. Don’t join a gazillion clubs. Don’t run for president of everything. Prioritize.” He’s warned me that if I continue at the pace I’m going… I’ll be burnt out by 30.
Maybe his projection was generous because these days, I feel like an 80 year old woman trapped inside of a 23 year old’s body. If I continue at the pace I’m going, my body’s telling me I could be burnt out by 25.
When I think about what’s important… It takes days for me to return my family and friends’ calls. I never eat (right). I never sleep (well or long). I never workout (consistently). I seldom make it to church. And that’s the list in no particular order… family, friends, my health, my faith. If these aren’t going well… not much else matters. Stress-induced physical health problems are real, and to top it off, it runs in my family. I’ve seen the ramifications of stress on a person, a body, a mind. Stress has to be dealt with. Given that I’m a problem-solution oriented thinker… I’ve clearly been problem solving.
I’ve thought about going to “talk to somebody.” We, as Americans, already struggle with taking care of our mental health, and Black Americans seeing a shrink?!… hmph. Yea right. So since I have access to free mental health services, I was like… why not? I hear you’re supposed to go once a year like a physical anyway. But then the problem became, when? Every single day, I literally have an obligation after another obligation. Ok, plan B… But family’s too far and distantly supportive to really understand plus, I don’t want to worry them. Plan C: But then the friends you don’t want to bother all have their own lives and woes, and still other friends expect you to be superwoman. Honestly, I’ve know all along that all I really need is some time. To sleep. Rest. Relax. Center myself. You know… Eat. Pray. And love.
Honestly, before I even sat down to write this, I felt like I had SO MUCH to say. About how we’ve got to take better care of ourselves… mind, body, and soul. Do better. Understand that going hard doesn’t mean going to the hospital, etc. But even with these few short sentences, I find myself doing it again: The “get over it” speech that my mind gives my body without my permission. I realize I’m no anomaly. Everybody gets tired. Everybody goes hard. And as usual, my “get over it” mantra prevails. I’m not saying it’s right… but what are the alternatives? When I think of “solutions,” and what I could possibly do, there is no other option but to keep going.
My conclusions… Get over it. Do better. And venting helps. (even if it’s to the computer screen).
Plus, the hard work is often worth it if you love what you do. Shout out to teachers everywhere.
“The Kite Runner”
You MUST see this movie. Like. You must. It is epic. Long story short, it’s one story about one family affected by the turmoil in Afghanistan. Short story long, it’s about you, me, and our responsibility… worldwide.
My most favorite class I’ve ever taken, ever, was during the first semester of my freshman year in college. It was taught by Dr. Pamela Scully, unbeknownst to her, one of my sheroes. The class was AFS 190, a freshman seminar, entitled “Violence and Memory in Contemporary Africa.” The first day, I’ll never forget, she, a 6 foot tall thin blonde woman with a “weird” accent says… “Hello class, welcome. My name is Dr. Pamela Scully, but I believe that if you need the word ‘doctor’ in front of your name to gain respect, then you’ve already lost the battle. So just call me ‘Pamela.’” From then on, I knew that class would change me. And it did.
Pamela is why I’m an African Studies minor, and she’s why I lived in South Africa for six months, and she’s how I knew law was the profession for me. It’s too tough, and actually impossible, to retell what we discussed everyday during the fall of 2006… but let’s just say, I wept every single class period. We discussed almost every senseless and heinous crime in contemporary Africa and how and/or why it manifested. After learning that over 100,000 people were slaughtered in Rwanda in about 30 days at the hands of a few hundred men… in 1994, I lost it. I thought about how I was six at the time, with a three year old brother, living an amazing childhood replete with food, clothes, shelter, toys, school, and anything else I needed and wanted. And I thought about how my parents were grown in their 30′s with awesome jobs, the Olympics approaching Atlanta soon, and I thought and thought and thought. And I vowed to myself, silently, but emphatically, that over my dead body would I be able-bodied, with a voice and a purpose, and allow such a thing to happen EVER again. Anywhere in the world, especially during my lifetime. I could not believe that America knew, read, heard, listened, and saw those people dying. And did nothing. How inhumane. I promised I’d be that one person to make the difference. To speak up. To do better. I just knew I wouldn’t be one of those people.
And then… we have Sudan. And Uganda. And North Korea. And Afghanistan. And Iraq. And. America. And I feel like crap for not keeping my word. This movie is soooo important to see. As the desensitized Americans we are, we need personalized depictions. We need individuals. We need one story about one person and one life to realize how certain things affect the whole. So here it is. Here’s your Afghanistan 101. It’s not about the history, it’s not about the emergence of the troubles, and it’s not about the politics. It’s about the most important parts. It’s about the people.
I don’t know what my point is. I don’t know what I want, or what I expect… of you, or myself. But I know that once you know, you’re accountable. Once we become privy to information, we can’t ignore it anymore. Well, we can, but it becomes a choice. We can no longer say we didn’t know. As one of my favorite Christian artists says of her time at a Ugandan orphanage, “now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead” -Brooke Fraser. And with that, keep in mind Alice Walker’s June Jordan-inspired quote, “we are who we’ve been waiting for.”
So see it. We’re grown now. We’re not six anymore. And nothing against our parents, but whether they knew or not, the didn’t know what to do next. And neither do I. But the whole point of story-telling, and studying history, and learning about the mistakes of others, is that we don’t make them again. So we may not know what to do, but we know what NOT to do. And here we are… doing it. Sudan is Rwanda number 2. but worse. And Afghanistan may just be the name of that place on the news with the Taliban and the insurgents, but six year olds live there too.
We can’t do everything, but we can do something. so… can we? do something? anything?
Do you ever wonder….
about yourself? I mean, of course we do. But do you ever feel yourself slipping away? Like you’re on the verge of becoming someone you don’t know. Or someone you’re not supposed to be. Or someone sub-par? It’s petrifying.
Anyone who knows me, knows how I feel about my study abroad experience. Without a doubt, I was my happiest I think I’ve ever been, ever, in Cape Town. I was at peace, I was serving people, I was worshiping, I was giving, I was living. I was doing everything I wanted to do… and all in light of Him. It was that intangible balance between practicing what you preach, and enjoying every moment… proven to be quite tangible. It’s real.
And I kick myself everyday for not holding onto myself in that form, and bringing her back to the states with me. That was a year ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. I read my Cape Town blog and I miss her. I was so different. But I was myself. And I don’t know what about this country makes it so difficult for me to be her. I mean, aside from the sex, drugs, violence, poverty, inequity, corruption, and all the “-isms” that are America… it cannot be that difficult. lol.
Even the simple stuff, the things that were once innate and mechanical day-t0-day happenings have fallen by the wayside for me. Stuff like reading my Bible. I used to do it multiple times a day. Everday. and now… ugh. I’ve just got to do better. Period.
Idk… just as a form of self-analysis. Check yourself every now and then to be sure you are you want to be, which should be who He wants you to be. I’m not. And I’ve gotta fix it. Starting now.
The Watch or the Compass?
When we think of our lives, inevitably, we consider our purpose and our direction. In terms of how to handle these often overwhelming thoughts, I recently heard one of the most beautiful, and hopeful, analogies I’ve heard in a really long time… and yall know how I feel about positivity and optimism. 
Are you a watch or a compass?
Watches tick incessantly. Quite literally, each tick represents a passing second, and after sixty of them, a passing minute. The purpose of a watch is to tell what time it is… but why? We want to know what time it is because we want to know how little time we have left to do what we’re doing at the moment or how much time we have left before we have to do whatever it is we must do next. All too often, we think of our lives as watches. Things that run out of time and eventually expire… constantly anticipating the next thing.
But consider the alternative… a compass.
Compasses are naturally led by something larger. For them, it’s a magnetic field that leads it without fail and if we personify it, that larger force for us is God. The magnetic field always comes through. It never fails… because it’s natural. The compass just “is.” And in just “being” it is always on track because it allows itself to be led.
I like that. I wanna be a compass.
