Tag Archives: #5for5BrainDump

Vibrant Eighty Eights

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I felt the most vibrant the first time I played the piano…okay,it was a keyboard,but tomato, tomahto I say.

The first time I played the piano(yes, I mean piano) I was 5 years old. My great aunt Gladys had signed me and my brother up for instrument lessons. I chose the piano because I remember the first time I saw one I thought it was the most elegant thing I ever saw. My brother chose guitar and I think he chose it because our school music teacher was a funny Jewish man named Mr.Wilde. The coplest thing about him, aside from his humorous nature was his guitar. He was a genius with that thing.

I dont remember how long I took lessons but I stopped after my great aunt died. That sucked so I gave up piano all together. But whenever I heard if there was a stirring and I would immeidately become distracted. And it affected my writing. The sounds of the keys made me write the truth.

In high school, I took band as a sophmore. My best friend, Krissy, and I played the clarinet. I oassed the classed…barely. I was excited to be involved with music because my love of old school r and b was budding. In my senior year,I got to choose keyboard as my music elective. I knew the teacher from my days in the band so I was comfortable telking him that I hadnt played since my aunt’s death. He was pleasantly surprised and assured me I would do fine. He was right.

Months into instruction,most of my classmates still were unsure of how to place their hands,ehich notes were which,and were veru choppy when practicing a song. Not me. I loved to play all my practice songs well(though now I cant think of the names of any of the songs). My teacher even let me assist struggling students. That I didn’t care for because the music made me feel so alive. So…renewed and without worry. Every crisp up and rich doen of the keys became akin to my own heart beat. It spoke to my teen agnst and the rare monents of joy I felt then.But only when I was alone with the music did I feel that way. A bored and failing student wouldn’t understand.

I had a thought to try to learn the piano version of a song I really loved then, Being With You by Smokey Robinson. There was a Spring music festival at school but when I came up with my idea, it was Winter. I wanted to learn the song myself(relying only on what I had learned in 4 months),impress Mr.Thompson with it so much tghat he would beg me to perform at the festival. I never came close,y’all. YouTube wasn’t a thing so that was out. The written music looked like gibberish and I struggled. So, I gave up.

I haven’t given up wanting to learn to play Being With You via piano its just at that time,I got distracted with other things (read:boys). On my bucket list is this abandoned hobby but I hope to pursue it again real soon.

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I Tell My Stories To…

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I Tell My Stories To…

When I first started writing seriously, I was 9 years old. My mom had started dating someone and i had strong feelings against it. She knew that but continued seeing him. In truth, there was nothing wrong with this man. He showed genuine interest in my brother and I but I didn’t like sharing my mother with anyone else. I already had to compete witha needy little brother and a special needs aunt. So, my first “novel” was 5 chapters long and was about mysrlf and the other members of my household.

My mother’s boyfriend encouraged my efforts with a hearty “You got something there,kid”. My mom was more comcerned about how I had writte the character of myself. I think i described myself as climsy and lonely. All through school, I excelled in modt writing assignments. In high school, I applied for a position on the school newspaper, The Highlighter, in tenth grade only to be told I had to wait another year and to choose it as an elective. I did just that.

I always kept a diary as far back as I can remember. I wrote in it because I wasnt being heard in my house. I was too sensitive and  for my emotionally stunted family. So, I wrote. My biological mother, a sensitive soul herself,gifted me a diary when I was 14. She knew I had to write like I had to sleep and eat.

After Amani was born, I started a blog. I was a teenage mither and I had some thoughys about that.  It felt good to see all my hopes, dreams,fears, and accomplishments all in black and white.
The diaries Ive had since Amani was born are for her. I want her to know all about me..from me. After I am gone from this life,stories from relatives and friends will be told about me to my daughter.  I’d like to think all stories will be drowned in sweet sentiments, but I ain’t no fool.  For the stories that star me as the antagonist, I’d like to tell my side,if you will. I am completely honest with her and sone if the things she will read,I’m glad I’ll be dead for. But she will know my full story and hopefully use them and her own to help others. 

Today I’m Shifting Into…

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Today,I’m shifting into a place of thankfulness. Lately,I’ve been working with Shug on her spiritual life. Every night(almost) we read a story that teaches an important lesson from the Bible. She is also learning how To apply her lessons to real life. With all that going on, I have also been trying to reconnect with the Most High. Yesterday, I fasted from social media as a sign of good faith to God that I want to be obedient. In the past couple of days I noticed that because I’ve been preoccupied with trying to get close to the Creator,I haven’t had time to worry about the things that keep me up at night.

Today, I’m choosing to keep seeking God’s comfort and guidance because it is bringing me peace. I want Him to change some things in my life and I realize that I have to draw closer to Him. Don’t get me wrong,I’m not getting closer simply because I need something but because I know who I am to Him and it’s time for me to be the amazing woman that He knows I am. Can I get an amen?

Time and Balance

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I notice I use my time best when I’ve done my morning routine to completion.  This past week, I’ve been bullshitting and not doing it. What’s my excuse? Aside from a couple famioly hiccups this weeks,I’ve been truly tired. Like almost-miss-my-Allstar-by-Smashmouth-custom-morning-alarm tired.

I enjoy spending time to myself before I have any other roles to take on at 6:30am. I take my silent walk around the block. I get to admire my dreary little piece of NYC. I get to have witty musings and observations about life and motherhood when I take my walks. During my meditation I visualize the life I’m headed to. That in turn inspired me to read,which inspires me to come up with new content. Full circle,y’all!

With that being said, I don’t feel all that guilty about missing my routine sometimes. I don’t always want to be alone with myself. Sometimes I wan to jist stay busy in my other roles. Nothing wrong with trying to find a balance. Isn’t that what life is?