Image Courtesy Allison Achauer
Well.
Today, I graded papers, made a mid term spread sheet and emailed it on time. Phew.
Spoke to my college roommate (first person I EVAR shared a room with) and told her I had NO idea how she went to graduate school for a Ph.D at 22. This shit is hard enough as old lady rap. It was nice to hear from her. She is defending in May, and she is going to send me her dissertation introduction and wants to collaborate on a project in the future. Win.
Today I saw the storify for Moya + Lex’s panel Blackgirlsarefromthefuture x Octavia Butler at CESA, which I was suppose to be in Cali for. The storify had me blown. I was happy to see people be so interested in something we were talking about nearly a year ago. The room was packed. As (young)scholars we often work in isolation so to share the work and have it be appreciated goes hella far.
This evening, I played an awesome game of chess, where I realize I am now thinking two steps ahead AND I used my Rook and my Bishop together. The thing about chess is that its ALL process and I like that. Being trained to be a historian…I have to be into process. Process and context is really what it all comes down to.
Tonight I had a moment of serendipty where I walked out and SD walked in and I kept it moving, based on his facial expression, much to his chagrin, he he he.
Then I walked into the spot and there was Aquemini.
From the frying pan into the fire.
We ain’t spoke. And thats cool. Life happens, but the issue is that I reached out Thursday, and he didn’t respond and then I got an explanation tonight.
Black girls are from the future so they know they are a choice and not an option.
My feelings were hurt and rather than say that, I stayed for minute, spoke with my girl, used the rest room, didn’t see him and bounced.
My mind went to “What would the rook do?”
You and I both know that matters of the heart are not no daggumit chessboard, even though chess principles can be useful in terms of thinking things through.
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I left him a message, and left the door cracked.
Courtbear, my dating coach said two things. First, she said, I be expecting people to do things the way I would do it. And she is right about that, and I am working on it. Second, she said people have to learn how to treat you, that it isn’t innate. I am not going to lie, this process is work honey. But the pay off is that a Lovebear doesn’t to guess about what allcity likes.
Honestly though blood, I had to process that shit with the quickness, because I have hella work to do tomorrow, and even though I am certainly entitled to feeling my feelings, the outcome isn’t mine.
I realized that I fucked up when I wasn’t honest. I was neither vulnerable nor fearless and it shows.
What ever he did or how HE responded wasn’t any of my business. Looking back there really wasn’t space to have that conversation and you KNOW I am a space bear.
Resolved. I just needed to say my piece, and keep that thang clean. If I don’t keep the path clean then I won’t receive my gifts. AND I love the gifts, especially the human ones.
Energy Conduit.
Speaking to @afrolicious tonight she was like “Dang Gina, you went from furstration to acceptance just like that” and commented that it was probably because I am air sign. I was like how does that figure? She was like “You all process quicker.”
Two things helped me to go from being angry to acceptance to forgiveness. First it was remembering that accepting people where they are and asking questions makes my life way easier. That plus, no assumptions. No manipulation. Second was remembering that other peoples actions are none of my business. Nunya. That I need to have the courage to say how I feel and be honest. And so long as I do that God will take are of the rest. Boom.
I also have hella work to do tomorrow and I know that that work must get done and if I needed to dance tomorrow, then so be it. When I dance I am free. Boom.
What do you do to feel free?
When was the last time you went from the Frying Pan into the Fire?
Why is it that people who make your heart go thump thump, make your life extra hard?