Kiss Joy

Tis the season for plenty of greeting embraces, cheek to cheek, kisses to cheek, and if you're a brave grown up, kisses to kisses.

I didn't fully realize, until later this year, that I've had a stigma about kisses. Which is odd because I love the idea of them, but to so easily give them away, in terms of intimate greetings, started to bother me a bit when I felt that some specific individuals were trying to get more than a greeting kiss.

More so, it seemed as if they simply wanted to experience my lips with little disregard for the woman that possessed them.

What is it about a kiss that is so magnetic? There are many theories and speculations as to what the kiss is and how it came to be. But they still don't provide me with solid reassurance and safety in regards to my own lips. Because my qualms about kissing really boil down to lips in general. I mean, if a stranger placed their hand on your lips in public versus shaking your hands, it would increase his or her chances of getting slapped. But why...what makes lips so sacred? Because they're closer to your mouth, the place where your breathe and receive oxygen?...Or is it connected to the fact that life and death are in the power of the tongue...and the lips are somehow guarding it like an ancient castle?

I think that's what excites me and scares me the most about kisses. There's an exchange happening. Possibly both of the good and the bad.

So you can see how quickly the idea of a kiss could become revolting to me--But not for the reason of a person simply being perceived as hideous--although that doesn't help one's case. The reluctance to give those sweet greeting kisses at times comes from the resistance to vulnerability, the fear of inviting someone to a dance that you know you're not going to show up at, or the possibility of inviting the enemy to trespass and debase your castle.

I was recently given a surprise goodbye kiss -- half friendly, half invitation. It was like a hug that lingered a little bit longer than normal... and then somehow somewhere a saxophone seemed to play nearby...and of course the moon shined ever so brightly.

And just as quickly as it began, it ends abruptly and I'm meant to look this person in the eye with a strong platonic stare and smile, but truly I'm thinking..."What just happened? Did I just give you an unintentional gift with my lips. I didn't even offer that...I was going in for the hug you sneaky thug, you."

But as we part ways. I conclude:



"Well then...that exchange wasn't horrible at all."

Happy

Just a few short hours ago, I was on the road to forever being highly annoyed by a particular celebrity/recording artist and their artistic endeavors. My heart and mind were no longer open and receptive as they once were to his particular expressions and imprint. It's amazing how you can love something so, one minute, and then with the consistency of change, almost completely write it off all together later. Cold--yes, but true.

But that all changed when I watched a witty and intelligent interviewer bring out the best in John Mayer. I gained that new level of understanding I had been yearning for these past couple of years. Because recently, he had become more of a punchline and US Weekly magazine staple, better known for his sex-scapades rather than his heartfelt journey as a musician and human being. But in this recent interview, I gained understanding. And it was that understanding that put my heart at ease. I let him in again. The comedian, the musician, the man, the intellectual. These were the labels in which I understood Mr. Mayer prior to 2005.

It's amazing how many things can get cleared up with the ever so complex action of "understanding". It brings us to a place of peace. It settles us once again. "In all your getting, get understanding"...And then we begin to love the thing (or in this case, person) we almost completely wrote off, we love them even more, with a greater level of maturity. Everything may not be perfect, yet we are settled once again in our affections, until something else comes to shake its fruit from our lives.


As human beings and artists, we long to express, but also relate, and perhaps bring understanding to our vision and perspective of love, life, and those things in between.


The struggle remains in pleasing others, not pleasing others, staying honest, and resting in truth. Ideally we never want to care what people think, but in truth, love doesn't happen unless someone else is in the room. And that's a dangerous concoction. We need each other, but we don't want to be in the place where we have to admit it.

Therefore, our artistic expressions...who we are, what we wear, how we live, what we create, our professions, our ministries, etc. as they change and mature, will always be up for review by the masses. Many will continue to assess their love for you and the things you do. No need to resist or fear it, it's simply an open invitation for understanding to take place, and a deeper sense of love to be birthed and grasped--for those that want it.

As an artist I feel the journey goes something like this:

It is not my job to make you happy, but it is my good pleasure to see you smile.

Pretending

Just because you put on a crown, doesn't make you a king. Halloween will back me up on this.

Yes. That statement seems clear enough, but when put in the context of our relationships and self-evaluation, it begins to hold new weight.

Just because you give the title lover, friend, or confidant, doesn't mean such words hold their given meaning. The title can very well exist, but the substance of such truths can be evidently lacking. It's that time again...the end of the year. How have I grown, in what ways have I not grown, am I content, etc. etc. The list goes on and on.

Assessing our lives in terms of success and the ever so elusive fame is far easier. We can sometimes measure those things through superficial experiments.

But what I'm talking about is the substance of those things that we have in our lives. What are they truly made up of? The ingredients. The reality of situation.

I've been facing the reality of all kinds of things in my life as of late. And truly, the truth does set you free. Not to say that it can't be hard to grasp or painful to endure, but the canopy of peace residing over your being is always evident.

It's becoming more and more clear---who I am. And what it is I want. I was never satisfied by wanting or doing something just because someone else had or did it. It's so funny, when you see yourself from heaven's perspective, not only do you see a whole new value within yourself, but passions and desires come into focus like never before. Truth.

Pretending is for those that have not yet let go. It is for those that have refused to forgive and love. It is for those that have a secret life of anger and bitterness. Pretending is for those that do not want to settle into the possibility of glory and true goodness in all situations. Oh, to be content in all ways and in all circumstances. Love.

But one can't fake contentment. And if you try, your conversations and your own eyes will always give it away.

Pretending has a lot to do with exterior posture, but "being", well being is just that. I'm now learning the difference between "doing" something kind, and "being" kind. "Doing" something loving versus "Being" loving. It's quite a transformation. But when it happens it strikes the very deepest chords of our spirit. Freedom.

I've learned, that although, throughout my life, I've thought myself to be brave, strong, and independent, I was merely pretending to be those things. I could do such things without you fully knowing my fakery, but my heart knew. And this year revealed the hidden fears and lies that kept me pretending.

And now, I'm taking my own baby steps in the direction of real truth, love, and freedom. Those are the ingredients of lasting substance. Of which will reflect in my own life, my own conversations, my own eyes.

You will own, what you walk through.

Meaning, the refining process. If you choose to go forward in it, you will be like refined gold on the other side. It will be a part of your DNA. It can't be cloned by someone else--a pretender trying to find the easy way out of a long and arduous journey. But instead, your DNA will be unique and affirming to you. It will bring out the best in you like you've never seen before. And change the atmosphere around you like a new dawn.


Glory.

Is Hoping Funny Is the New Sexy

That is all.

Safer To Be Ugly, More Advantageous To Be Beautiful

It's my morning. 4PM. I finally decide to leave the house and do a few errands around town. I love to pretend I'm some avant garde celebrity when I leave the house, therefore, you'll find me in the latest attire K-Mart has to offer. I make sure I look like a hot mess. I simply do not want to engage with people or even be looked at. Yes. My neurosis exposed.

The library. The calmest place on earth. Minus the homeless people snoring or talking to their "friends" in a level 8 voice. But before I swiftly run into my safe haven to drop off a few books my skin already begins to feel tight. Someone is looking at me. Oh Lord. Walk faster Patrice. "How YOU doin'..." He repeats it about two more times.

The left side of my body begins to twist in the direction of the Pimp Talk. Patrice don't turn around! But I have this horrible guilt when it comes to ignoring someone who is blatantly talking to me. My body is fully turned now. I have to commit.

With deep disdain in my voice, "I'm...good". I notice that my voice is quite a few octaves lower than normal. Really, Patrice? Were you trying to sound like a man right now, so he would leave you alone? Wow. I mean, the voice that came out is in no way close to my real voice. I start to laugh inside my head--which is then interrupted by the man saying, "YES YOU ARE." I cringe. Walk awkwardly faster into the library and catch my breath. And then I catch the eye of the security guard inside. He is already starting to lick his lips.

I have this conversation with my mother all the time. Why is it that the Pimps have no problem hollerin'at a lady. And it seems that the Decent Dozen won't give as much as a head nod. Oh the ways of the world. I guess it all comes down to security and beauty.

Did I fail to mention that this man that was hollerin'at me was elderly. No, I'm not kidding.

Scattered, The Wind Will Blow

Why is it that the truth can be so elusive? And not just in the overall quest for truth, but in the gritty day to day of honest folk making an honest living doing regular honest things. Somehow the line is not as clearly defined. Could truth be like math? 2+2=4. Or is truth more like love. An emotion that is much like the wind, never knowing how it truly comes, but when it does we are moved in a certain direction because of it.

Today I wondered...What am I doing wrong? I thought this plus that would equal the certainty. And now, it's as if the rules of the equation have changed on me in my mid-solving mode.

Or maybe truth is like math and the wind. Secure but unpredictable and always interested in surprising the hell out of us.

In either case, I am a bit scattered. Oh, look at me trying to save face. I'm scattered, unsatisfied, dimly hopeful, and somehow loving. I'm confused and frustrated looking at this equation before my eyes. I need a mathematician to come in and help me solve this horrible calculus.

Fickle emotions, how you pull and drag me to a room I don't think I want to stay in. But yet, I somehow got myself here anyhow. Why? What truth was acted upon that got me here. No reason? Bad things happen to good people. Tragic. But truth.

And yet, I still, in my dimly hopeful mood, feel a weak bit of anticipation for redemption. That would be of a math I have not fully studied or received a degree in. But I know the school and degree exists.


And many times, the winds simply come as the trumpet of a storm that is to follow. Yes a storm. In the most beautiful way. Bringing rain that will once again give life and change a landscape. Because a change in the weather is exactly what is needed sometimes.

Wanting To Hide

There are those moments in life where one feels blatantly inadequate. Regardless of how amazing everyone will quickly say you are, your poise is still in that of doubt. What is this is this cloak we choose to snuggle in? In the end, it's not a cloak at all, but a metal and awkward armor that hides the softness and strength of who we really are. Yes, protection is necessary, but not at the expense that it restricts movement. What good is armor if you can't walk or run in it--and preferably in the direction of forward.

This year, my unnecessary armor has come down. I feel quite naked at times. But a rush of belief and beauty quickly sweep in to surround and comfort me. The desire to hide many times is our call to truly be seen and pursued. Many times we can just as easily be afraid of the good as we are the bad.

It is now Autumn. And I am grateful that this year did not look like the last. I'm grateful that I have been able to break free of certain hindrances and remove another layer of masks. And I'm so incredibly curious to see how God will "complete" that which He has started in us.

Seek and you shall find...yes, even those hidden things.

Bearings

It's in this time that I'm not quite sure what to feel or for that matter what to even expect. It almost seems like an unavoidable descent of sorts. It's much more uncomfortable than free falling. It's like this weird sense of controlled chaos.

I was listening to a message yesterday from Ravi Zacharias. I love that man, by the way. I wrestled with the slogan of his ministry. "What I believe in my heart must make sense in my mind." But yes, that seems to be our constant journey. And yet we believe that God's ways are higher than our ways and that even in the midst of chaos, He provides a peace that surpasses all understanding. How do I wrap my mind around that and yet still become settled within my mind.

It's true. I do not believe God is frantic. I believe He rests in perfectly clarity. I also believe that this clarity in rest is extended to all of us as well. But for me, in this season, I have had trouble gathering my bearings. It's one of the most frustrating things. I simply want things to slow down and get into proper perspective. But instead I find myself blank, almost above emotions in a some sort of fog.

But back to Ravi's message. He suggested that we could be afraid of the good. But the way in which he described this feeling wasn't what i had normally heard. It was the nitty reality of how many times the good can open itself to things that scare us equally as if evil had entered into the room and how do we deal with that?

Learning, learning, learning. This is truly a journey not a destination.

My love is being set free and I'm learning to be. May my heart reflect the truth and true of essence of Thee.

Anger Love Ramalama

Wow. A Promised Land sure does come with a lot of adventure and frustration at times. I feel like I'm in some sort of whirlwind. At times it's a bit overwhelming, and I must remind myself: You have already been prepared for this.

What is it about true love that challenges you to become a better you, as stronger you, a much more courageous you. And no, I'm not just talking about the romantic type of love, but a love that at times calls you to something higher, and in our frailty we get upset and even angry because we are not living at such heights as of yet.

Just when I reached a level of comfortability in my own skin, everything changes once again. I feel a bit out of my element. Which in essence is so good, because I am finally able to face those things that once had me bound in fear. This summer is much more than what it would at first appear to be. Yes, things will reach a new potential--wiping away the remnants of winter. But once again, things will prepare to fall as autumn is ushered in. A new me will emerge, I'm almost sure of it.

Don't stop if you feel revisited by anger. It is our heavy reminder of how desperate we are for love--to have it, to be it, to be in it, to experience it fully.

"...Hearing only one root note
Planted firmly in the ground
Undo my heart, unzip my body and
Lend to my ear a clear and a deafening sound..."

Surround Yourself With Truth

Love has arrived.

Recap

Don't you miss the days of elementary school. When you saw the same group of friends day in and day out. The only type of recapping that had to take place was, "What did you do over the weekend?" But even then, we would already know what our friends were doing because we would see them or talk to them over the weekend. And then it's Monday again. We sit in the same class, go to the same recess, have the same teacher, live life. Oh the friendships of that era.

Now I realize, with all my friendships spread across states and continents, I (and others) spend a majority of our relationships "recapping" on life that has happened without the other person present. By the time we have both "recapped" we are exhausted, and that has somehow substituted as quality time. We truly aren't living life together, but simply keeping each other informed out of respect, curiosity, and maybe love.

So how are we defining friendships these days? Definitely not by mere locale, for the internet has given us webcam and other virtual means of communication and a sense of connection.

I think there's still that intangible element that truly connects us and bonds us with people, forever leaving an imprint on our hearts and souls. I also think that some of the fundamental elements holding friendships together, besides history with a person are: a common interest, goal, or direction, as well as passion and joy--simply enjoying being around each other and a sense of freedom. I also believe that the depth of friendship is determined by the history and the direction the two or more people are going in.

And then sometimes God gives us something unexpected, a connection that feels eternal--mutually. And no matter how long we've been apart, we continue on the same page as if we've never missed a beat. That's forever a place of home in our hearts. That is truly a gift. Not all friendships carry that weight, but when they do, it's easily recognized by both parties.

But don't all the friendships in our lives hold such great meaning? We wouldn't be who we are without them. And that inspires me to love.

I personally hope I do less recapping and more frienshipping in the days to come. It seems to be a bit more difficult to do, being a grown up and all. But I refuse to see it as impossibility.

April Then May

Wow. It has been hot this weekend! It's as if the atmosphere is screaming towards an anxious climax of sorts. And we're one step closer. Yes indeed.
That's all I wanted to say today.

No. Actually, there's more.

Finishing Dreams

I just realized what I titled this entry. Pause.

Pause again.

Okay.

So it's been a "few days" and I think I'm getting some answers or at least closer to them.

I had a long series of dreams last night of which one part truly stood out to me.

*In a house with my grandmother (who has already passed away). We walk to another room together which happens to be a waiting room. Odd, I know, especially for it to appear in this two story house. But it was a legitimate waiting room, like one you'd find at the doctor's office. In the dream, I had no idea why I was there.

It had to be no more than a few minutes and this nice and seemingly happy doctor comes out (my grandmother is sitting on my right hand side) and makes a dash for my nose. Instead of greeting me fully, like a normal person, he mentions something about a bump on my nose, like a bone or something. And with his BARE hands he adjusts my nose. He fixes it there on the spot. There wasn't a lot of pain, but it was uncomfortable and did hurt a bit. But it only took a few seconds. My grandmother was the picture of peace.

After the doctor "adjusts" my nose in the waiting room, I remember saying to the person on my left and anyone that I came in contact with afterwards in the dream, it felt as if someone had punched me in the face. But apparently, everything was fixed. I never had to go inside the doctor's office or an examination room or anything like that. It was such an interesting scenario...

So this morning, I start to breakdown a possible interpretation for this dream. I get my handy dandy Cindy McGill dream interpretation booklet (based on Biblical dream interpretation models) and go to town. Very simple, nose=discernment.

So let's break this down. I'm in the waiting room. That's self explanatory. But now, we get to some of the purpose of the waiting. The doctor (the Lord) is adjusting my 'discernment'. And funny enough, I myself couldn't see the issue with my nose...but the doctor could, with his own eyes. No need for equipment or x-rays. He had eyes to see.

And then, with my grandmother in the dream. When grandparents make an appearance it usually points to "generational influence". Whoa. Pause. Something just hit me.

My grandma Lola was a strong woman of faith. She has played a significant part in my life and with me following my dreams. Before she passed away, we both celebrated my acceptance into USC Film School. And it was the words she said that summer afternoon that ring in my heart now. Sick with cancer, she first asked me if that was what I wanted. I enthusiastically said yes. She then whooped and hollered and said, "you did it!" She then said, this is what you've always wanted now go for it!!

My first congratulations and my cheerleader. She got it. She knew how important it all was for me. That was the last summer I would see my grandma alive. But what a memory. And what a commissioning.

Oh dreams. How messy they can be sometimes. But what life they carry beyond our own, the legacy embedded within them.

Just when you want to through in the towel. Lack of direction, resources, inspiration, creativity, patience, and discernment. Something redirects my focus in the waiting room.

But it will not be me alone that finishes this dream. I will get to where I need to be. And I will be who I have dreamed of being-- It is Grace that brings me in time and time again--Setting wrongs right and finishing dreams.

Unfinished

Where is my next array of exploits!? I'm in the desert like a sitting duck. Everyone seems to be complacent here. Not necessarily happy, but comfortable enough not to question everything like I do.

I feel so unqualified for the things I want to do at this point. But at least I'm ready to move forward and perhaps fall flat on my face.

I have chosen to believe the best--to hope for the best--to see the best. Perseverance is no joke. It's no joke.

In a few days, things must change--they have to or I will.

Online Love. Maybe.

It's so easy to fall in love with someone at 1:15 A.M. Especially when you are filling in the gaps of an online persona. Mix in some Intellectual Words, Nice Grammar, and some Rhymes and I'm practically ready to have your virtual babies.

Just watched "He's Just Not That Into You". It's definitely worth seeing once. It stirs up a bit of conversation or at least some thoughts. In this age of the Internet, we've lost something in regards to true intimacy and become good at being impersonal. In fact, the more impersonal we are with a variety of people, the more we end up fooling ourselves into thinking that we have deep meaningful relationships with thousands of people. But is that really possible? And in terms of romance, how do we get in front of our words instead of behind them or some false online persona?

Many of those scenes in the film reminded me of myself in high school and college, wanting so badly to be loved, but not feeling completely secure in my own beauty and worth. But I can honestly say now that I love being a woman. I love being me, more and more.

With the idea of romance comes this amazing sense of adventure. And I do love adventure. I've taken risks in the past, but none can compare to the risk of Waiting. And that is what I've chosen to do all these years. I constantly get asked...Why don't you have boyfriend?...Husband? Kids? And the answer is simple. I'm waiting for him. And I'll know him when he knows me. I know. I can't believe I've held onto that simple yet profound sentence for years now. But when you get something stamped on your heart like that, in a real way, its hard to accept anything less. The journey has been hard as hell, but at the end of the day Hopeful. Thank you, Jesus.



And as I lay in my bed at 1:49 A.M. I contemplate love, like I do almost every night before I go to bed. Will love really happen for me? And if so, when? Am I crazy to believe? And then I close my eyes.



Because a girl must always dream.

Something About Her

And today a new journey arises. Well in fact, continues. The blues of the sky appear frightfully gray--but not over her like some classic cartoon scene, instead it's out in the distance. It's looming, but not scary. It's ominous and truly a bit unnerving. But it must be faced. It must be.

Honesty is not her best trait, but she slides by like the rest of the passengers of life. Not to cold, not to hot. Just like everybody else, but different. No, not different like everyone else....exactly like everyone else except her name is different.

A pain throbs and burns gently across her upper back. The time has come. Now lightening flickers with brassy yellows in the approaching gray mass. She closes her eyes and dreams of sunshine. But something interrupts those thoughts and chokes her neck. Someone's hands are around her neck. They are cold and firm and stubborn. The panic hits her hands first. She has already surrendered and without a fight.

A shrill of unearthly vibrations comes forth out of her body. It makes the perfect note and in perfect pitch. The hands around her neck release in a panic. She falls to the ground. Stunned looking around, she runs her hands across the cracked desert ground and begins to weep. Not noticing that in the distance, the clouds have retreated and behind her a glorious light approaches.

He came.