There is something so earthshakingly profound about self-awareness. Being in the moment. Connecting with oneself. Or being fully available as we connect with those sharing our inner circle. Being conscious of everything within and around our personal bubble. Taking the time to notice when there’s a gearshift up or a downshift in the spirit that fills our bodies. Possessing a gage to consistently monitor the gamete of emotions that painstakingly toss us between jovial and full of expectation to mimicking happiness and barely making it. Something so profound about closing our eyes tightly and inhaling each moment like the quick vapor that life lends us. Mindfulness that involves relaxing our jaw line slightly enough to know that we’ve clinched it extremely too tightly for most of the day… most of our lives, honestly. Supreme awareness.
So, what happens when we are as mindful as we can possibly muster up in our own strength, yet the struggle ensues, and we become stumbling blocks in our paths? My girl Erykah once sang about going on and on, and on and on, but moving that much like a rolling stone while having no rhythm is the breading ground for detrimental and unhealthful disasters. So much so that the notion of it reminds me of being on a hamster’s wheel admirably adored by spectators, and no one sees it in your eyes that you, Mrs. Hamster, have had enough. You want to stop. You’re not at all motivated to keep going by the onlookers, but you keep moving. The wheel is no longer for play, yet and still, you cry out over and over again awaiting someone to tap into their high gear of mindfulness and notice that you are spiraling uncontrollably towards doom. But what’s observed is the sheer talent and skill on display. How we keep moving, never missing the beat. Our grit and grind. Our talent and tenacity. Our courage and competency.
And since the only way that I know to shoot is forward and straight, I must own that I, Beloveds, have been everything except for mindful and self-aware over the last few months. Guiltlessly, I, Majoria P., have been the hamster on display. And you know who told the story? Know who spoke up and made me ultimately aware? Who yelled “enough” and pulled me from the clouds? Know who pulled the plug on the act and snatched that hamster wheel to a halt?
My
Waist
Beads. They told the story and sang the song, Honey.
Now, journey with me for a spell just in case you’re not tracking on what’s being said here. Waistbands are of African culture worn for centuries by my fellow sisters to promote self-awareness. Mindfulness. To be passed to daughters by their mothers when they “come of age.” And in modern-day culture, the beads are worn to align with tracking weight loss or gain, water retention and even bloating in the body--- especially around the mid-section. So fast forward to the snatch, and no, it’s not the type that culture swoons over these days. This is a true snatch like the one that Granny gave you when you tried to “cut up” in front of your little friends.
.
For the last quarter of 2021, as much as my mind and heart were set on being aware and present, loving purely, setting necessary boundaries, and making it through unscathed, my waist beads became too tight. Way too tight, and it went unnoticed until time had escaped me, and life was telling on me. Boisterously, no whispers here. So, I had to remedy that…
And with that said, pay attention to your bodies when they speak. Before you’ve hit a hard stop, there are very explicit warnings. No matter how much we try and mask grief, hurt, discontent, frustration, anger, depression, and loneliness, they show up and gain the attention that we must give unto them in order to move forward. I will never encourage staying in your feelings; however, it is necessary to acknowledge them. Or if you’re like me, those darn waist beads will snatch you right from oblivion to belief, and you’ll have no choice except than to exit the wheel and gather yourself.
Snatched.
So, know this too, 2022 owes me nothing, yet I owe her everything. I vow to be aware. To be mindful. To be considerate and gentle. To say no and accept no. To find true balance. To show grace and mercy. To show up and be present. And you know who it begins and ends with? Me. I owe it all to me this year, and beyond, to be the best version of myself presenting each day.
…And if, by chance, I fall out of rhythm again, and get stuck, mundanely, on the hamster’s wheel, these beads are showing up tried and true. Because these beads speak, and God attunes my ears to listen.
Happiest New Year.
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