This weekend felt like a big hug from my fellow Black sistren everywhere! And everyone knows that we give some of the best hugs ever!
Uggghhhhh, whose idea was this?!
Who was the first person to suggest that putting on a suit, gathering together in a room full of strangers, making frustrating small talk and passing out pieces of paper with our names on it was the way to get ahead in life? They must have been some unimaginative, pretentious egomaniac that wanted a chance to be seen while simultaneously pissing off the introverts…like me. They’re sadists. I’m convinced. It’s the only logical explanation.
Tonight, I watched Scandal, one of my favorite shows ever. I appreciate Shonda Rimes and company’s ability to put together a damn good story line every time. Tonight was no exception, but it was much harder for me to watch.
Life is hard. You spend your days doing what you have to do to survive and thrive, while trying to enjoy the process, and none of it is easy. The stress and pressure of life is enough to make you forget that there are good things in your life at all. Funny how a day spent stuffing your face can change all of that, even if for just a moment.
Sometimes, when you want something so bad, you just close your eyes and go for it!
Dearest Dr. Marguerite Ann “Maya” Johnson Angelou,
I hope you don’t mind that I lovingly refer to you as Mama Maya. I’ve never met you in person, but I feel as though we know each other. We know each other, because we’ve both experienced and shared (to varying degrees) the bittersweet complexities of life as a Black woman in America. When you wrote, you knew someone like me would read it. As you lived your life, you knew that someone like me was watching. Either way, I could not only relate, but I could learn from you. In your words, in your journey, I have seen both a mirror and a compass, and I have learned in many ways how to navigate. You were, and will forever be, a north star.