Within In Myself.

Within In Myself.

It’s really hard loving yourself wholeheartedly. As much as I want to, I wish it was so easier said then done. It’s not that easy to know wholesomely who I am when I am consistently changing. It’s rather difficult to identify yourself without the ego. Unless, there is no identity through the fall of the ego, which is the voice that keeps us attached to ideals, image, habits, people. As I read all the time, the fall of the ego brings the feeling of oneness. What I question is the process in which it happens, what do you feel in this transition?

The difficulty is trying to understand what is the ego in you to know what changes to make within. I  have some sense, some minuscule understanding of it. However, I am not sure when exactly my ego comes into play. I know when it’s off usually in times of advice giving, I can sound like the most level headed, open minded, Ghandi-loving therapist ever. But with me, I am a lot less straightforward. I barely listen to my own advice.

Maybe I need to relax. That’s why I am writing this now. Venting.

At times I feel like I love me, then at times I feel like I don’t. Okay, saying I don’t sounds so much more downgrading then in actuality. When I say I don’t, I mean I feel as if I don’t love myself in its fullest potential. We all fall short right? and that’s okay?

Where we are now, we are so obsessed with self identifying. Maybe from a mutual understanding that we all lack a true understanding of our self. You have to have some identity going on. One much define themselves through something. One must have an obsession with something, a favorite something. Becoming nothing more than walking brand, walking egos.

And the minute you want to dis-identify you feel the forces that makes you identify with something or someone.

I don’t know where I was going with this. I just feel conflicted.

I want to be me to the my fullest potential. I feel that I am not, because there are more “important” factors that needs to be worried about, making good income, getting a degree, anything and everything outside of me.

Damn you early 20s.

No Excuses by Alexi Panos

Her name? Alexi Panos. Who is she exactly? I honestly don’t know. I am just learning about her as you all will be once you hear this intriguing, uplifting  message about responsibility, or better yet, “Excuses.”

How often do you find yourself putting the blame unto others for mishaps in your life? How often has those blames been justifiable? Not many I suppose.

Her explanation is quite simple, everything is your fault.

“We either cause it or allow it!”

Mental Trauma

They argued with such vitriol that they didn’t notice the children standing between them, until the unforeseen happened.

When I think back that’s all I remember. Being a little boy deathly afraid of my father because that’s what he wanted. He spoke loudly on a daily bases to remind my brother and I we were inferior to his being. His size that stood 6’0  high and over 200 pounds, mostly muscle from his high school years of being a star football player.

His eyes were blank when him and my mother viciously argued. My mothers voice powerful for a black woman was unmatched to my fathers. Friday nights were not the glory days  adults and kids awaited for. While Fridays marked the day of freedom for others, Fridays marked the day of trauma and distraught, as it foreshadowed the hell stricken weekend. Paranoia was my best friend that manifested into a deep soulful hate that lived inside of me.

I had thoughts of killing my father for the drunk nights he would come on the weekends. I would stand only a little over 5 feet staring at him with my lips curled in, eyes pinched together, and little fist balled thinking of that steak knife. The enemy would lay passed out on the couch with his sliva peaking out from his lips while snoring.

He would wake me up and my brother up and speak to us from 11 at night till 3 in the morning about nothing. He forced us to stay up while he condemned us for being kids. He would tell us we don’t need any friends and we don’t need family. No one will care for us as his family never cared for him.

My brother and I both less then age of ten and three years apart never knew what a quiet home was between my mom and dad. Deplorable slurs of words clashed between the two giants  violently every weekend for all of my childhood.

 Nights of him sending us in our room crying behind a door while our ears were pressed against it was normal. Unbreakable nervousness rode the thick red water in our veins when he would threaten to break my mothers ankles. Tears of silent prayers ran on our cheeks.

I can’t seem to forget a history that was part of me as I remained isolated disabling the need to express my grief in what I went through at home. As it was “no ones business,” as my father would say, “what happens at home”.

So I developed the ability to compartmentalize the terror for weekends only. This was my only coping strategy although I was unaware at the time. I gained victory in my dreams as a kid when I would beat my father off my mother. Or when I do grave harm on to him falsely giving me courage I never had growing up.

For being so afraid to die in his arms.

Daily Prompt – For Posterity

I Want To Be Understood.

I want to be understood. Like how one understand the calculation of the seasons, like how the Egyptians knew the precise location of Sirus A.

I want to be understood.

That “ah ha!” moment.

The feeling when someone says “I get what your saying.”

The moment when someone agrees with you. The moment you convinced someone who you are on an emotional level.

I want to be understood. Like how one understands to smile when they feel joy.  Like how you understand a child.

I want to be understood that I am a human.

I am Dontae.

I am who I am.

I am all that is.

But I have to really learn and not fight that idea everybody will understand me. I am not asking to agree. I am asking to hear me out.

Know why I do what I do.

Why I am they way I am.
Why I read certain things.
Why I give.
Why I expect.
Why I believe.

Why things interest me.
Why I am seeking.
Why I am joking.
Why I am hiding.

Why something may anger me.
Why I may pass judgement.
Why I have an opinion.
Why I am emotional

Why I am happy.
Why I am rebellious.
Why this scares me.
Why I have hope.

There is power in knowing why? Its what leads to discovery. The discovery of one another, the discovery of true understanding. Why is what pulls the layers of one apart reaching into the depths unexplored, unexplained, while bridging gaps that connects to everything. The conflict is accepting not everybody cares to know why? That the only thing that matters is the action inflicted not the understand the reason. I have to rid the feeling to convince people of who I am. I have to rid the feeling to be understood. How can one come form a place of compassion without understanding, without knowing why what is-is?

We may not like or agree with the unfair laws placed against us, but there’s a reason.
You may not like the high price in gas, but there’s a reason.
You may not like that you got cheated on, but there’s a reason.
A serial killer killed hundreds, but he has a reason.
She selling her body on the street, but she has a reason.
He stole him from his dad, but he has a reason.
Terrorist had reason.
Countries don’t like American, for a more than agreeable reasons.

You think the wise one knew what they were up against without knowing the reason?
You think Gandhi faced his battles without knowing why the oppressors are what they are?
You think MLK, Malcolm X and more,  didn’t know why they wanted to oppress Blacks?
You think terrorist have a reason?

I want to be understood.
I want to be looked at as all the parts of me in one.
Look at me holistically.
The merge of all reasoning.

The Journey

The Journey

tumblr_ni3n2aHx081trhlq2o1_1280This man in the picture is me. Well, not really,but it is the future me. I don’t know who this man is and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I will eventually stand in his place. Someplace. Starring at the stillness of the ground watching the gentle sunrise or sunset. Standing erect taking in the totality of the beautiful given scenery with blended colors and sacred design of nature.

That is me when I embark the journey of self by myself. The pivotal point where I realign with all that is and let go all that was. Come to terms with all that was to become all that is.

I say this because deep down I am yearning, I am longing, I am desperate, I determined to find me.


Daily Prompt – Image Search

Wild: From Lost To Found On The Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed

Wild: From Lost To Found On The Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed

It is part of Oprah Book Club 2.0.
The film was nominated a Golden Globe Award for Best Actress in a Motion Picture.
#1 New York Times Bestseller for seven consecutive weeks.
#1 National Bestseller.
Barnes and Noble Discovery Award.
…and it won my soul.

Cherly Strayed and Oprah On Super Soul Sunday

Cheryl Strayed and Oprah On Super Soul Sunday

I stabled across this book about a week ago searching for memoirs to read as I try to gear up for mine. I wanted a strong another strong example of a memoirist style and layout.  I already read Janet Mock’s Redefining Realness which too became a New York Times Bestseller. Do you see where I am trying to go with this memoir? Redefining Realness is another gratifying book that tells a story ones identity trivial and acceptance. I came across a picture of a boot. I seen this book cover before, but I didn’t know where. Later I realized it was from an train ad I seen while going to dance with Fergie.  I was torn between that book or a workbook to get all my memories together. I decided on “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed and was in for an internal ride.
Book Review

This books is a person of its own. It resonated with me unexpectedly taking me in my own reflective depth of myself. It

Cheryl Stayed on the PCT circa 1995

Cheryl Stayed on the PCT circa 1995

compelled me to tell my own story while inspiring me to go on my own person journey. “Wild”  tells a story about a woman hiking over 1,000 miles to self-awareness on the Pacific Crest Trail. A trail that hugs the border of Mexico and Canada, passing California, Oregon, and Washington. She takes you on a journey describing the beautiful yet scary wildlife passing through like minded folks.

I was immobilize by the raw honesty she told while reflecting the death of her mother; the love of her life. She explains in detail how the tragedy influenced her into a downward spiral of sex, drugs, and divorce. The human attitude of grieving that perpetuates hate, sadness, blame, and then forgiveness. She dwells on her relationship with her abusive father, and takes you into her struggles and triumphs while hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s humorous and relatable.
It has a feminist appeal.
Its soulful.  Thus, why I got the idea to call books that really speak to me, “Soul Book”.

Wild-Reese-WitherspoonI saw the Film alone a few days ago alone although I was towards the end of the book. I needed to see it alone. This story had so much of me in it, it was only I were able to understand. It was played by Reese Witherspoon who got a Golden Globe Nomination for this film. I was pleased with the movie, I want to actually buy the DVD which I don’t do. I really feel like going to see it again. Alone. I am really not in a good space at all, maybe that’s why It spoke too well to me. I was even able to relate to her mothers hippy views on the world.

I don’t want to give it all away, but I highly recommend this book.
It’s a must read.

Film trailer: