We Can Fly

Flying into the new year

2023-01-01T15:49:00.001-05:00

Last year was full of despair and triumphs and disappointment. I manifested my dream job. It was everything I hoped for until it wasn't. Plot twist. Game over. Disappointment. Next chapter, please.

This year I am striving for more passion in my whole life. That means in a job, a house, and dare I say a happy and healthy relationship. It's never too late, right? So how can I achieve the things that I really want? How do I begin? I will start with things that are within my control (or at least I think they are) include:

Raise money for the My Veterans Place Savannah scholarship in my name. Right here right now we have raised 40% of the $2,500.

Embrace my gray hair. That isn't going so easy as I have been blonde for a very long time and my fingers are itching to return to what is comfortable. But I need to do something different and it is not a bad look, right?

Revamping my fitness since I have not consistently practiced yoga studio in about six months. I just wish that the Planet Fitness here had early morning classes. Funny because the ones in Savannah did and I did not take them. I admit that I need a little help, here since virtual classes by themselves are not working for me. Not working mainly because I am not doing them. I take full responsibility for that.

Running, it has been over a year since I have actually run. Maybe I will do at least one half or a full marathon this year. If not, at least train for one as I really enjoy the training.

Revise my resume and seek jobs that speak to my soul yet again. This time I will ask many more questions about the culture. And I will be much more open to what the universe is offering.

I said I would start dating. I have not done that in about 3 years and to be honest, I am not sure I know how. One step at a time with lots of prayers.

Laugh and dance a whole lot more.

Believe in me, count my blessings, and continue unapologetically taking up space.

Of course, all of this is subject to change due to circumstances of maybe I will just change my mind.

Flying with grace

2022-03-10T12:21:00.000-05:00

Brett Jordan

This has been a hard week. Not for any new reason. More of the same. Okay, not really. Found out that someone who was a terrible person and an even more horrible person in authority at one of my previous places of employment just got a new job. I am not opposed to people getting new gigs. Hell, I need one myself.

The point is and I will admit that it isn't even a good point because we should not compare ourselves to others. Anyway, I found out that this person who is still employed now has a new job. I wanted that person to languish in the turmoil that was created during his/her tenure.

Alas, it happened and it did not happen to me. And that is the real rub. I have no idea of the deals. This person made have sold his/her soul to the devil for that gig. It may be a horrible job. It may even be a job that I would never want, apply for, or have the qualifications to do.

And yet for a hot minute. Yes, I am lying. For much too much time I was upset. Then I questioned my own actions. Why didn't I have a new job? What was I doing wrong? Then a dear friend hit me upside my head. She reminded me that I am exceptional. Exceptional positions do not grow on trees. True, very true.

I need to learn to continuously extend myself grace. More than twice a day if necessary. I also need to be grateful for other people's successes even if I do not like the person. Success is not limited to one person per day. One person's success does not negate someone else's. I know. I know. Right now it sounds like blah, blah, blah.

My feelings are valid. I will honor them. I will also focus on the things in my sphere of influence, impact, and control. That other person is not one of them.

Flying some kind of way

2022-02-23T14:29:00.004-05:00

I am back. It was a long road to return here. I honestly was not sure I would. Things are much different now. I am different now in ways that I am not able to articulate even to myself. But this feels familiar. It feels a bit safer. I feel like I can breathe deeply. So I shall.

I am still looking for work. It has almost been a year. And I have been looking. I have had a plethora of interviews and still nothing. Fortunately, I have been presenting m research at conferences so I know that my brain still works. I read and reread my CV and crafted a resume. There is some good stuff on there. And yet still...I have not cried yet today. That is a victory in itself and I am celebrating all of the victories, especially the small ones.

I have decided what I want my next job to be. It must be the kind of work that feeds my soul, commensurate with my education and experience, ability to create and affect positive change within communities, foster friendly and collaborative relationships, salary enough to pay my bills, allow me to save for retirement, and to play.

Amongst this, there has been some progress. I have been taking pictures of birds near the water. Amazing views near where I live. I have a gratitude jar where each week I write something on a piece of paper, put it in the jar. I will read them all on New Year's Day. I bought a vacuum cleaner. One that I actually like using. I use it several times a day. I now have a mattress warmer on my bed. Who knew? Now I don't have to wait until my next job to buy a bed that has a heater. It's all about being comfortable where I am in the meantime. It's about trusting the wait. And it's about resting when things get too much and I alone get to decide when that is.

So I am flyng. Just not exactly sure where I will land. There is some excitement in that. A little fear as well because my savings will only last so long. But let's not focus on that. Let's (and by let's I mean me) continue to take one step forward and create the space for what is next to come because something is surely coming. I am one day closer. One day closer. I am one days closer to my miracle.

Flying in a bottleg half marathon

2020-11-02T10:01:00.001-05:00

In case I have not mentioned it enough, I am a gear guru for Blue Sky Endurance. Now that we have that out of the way let me begin my story.

It really wasn't a bootleg half marathon. It was the virtual Take Action Move for Justice half marathon. I just call it bootleg because I had no real route in mind. I meant to map it out. I really did. But as it got closer to the day I decided that we would just go out and walk. We weren't racing so I figured it would be fine.

So Saturday morning two of my 50+ and fabulous women friends from Charleston and I synchronized our watches and started the race. It was more of a walk as we had not seen each other in months. These are part of the group who would meet me at 4:30 to run 10 miles most Saturday mornings when I lived in Charleston.

It was fun catching up. It was different walking. And if I am honest, it was a teeny bit nicer. I had no route so we walked up and down most of the streets in my neighborhood and eeked out 8 miles before we left it. We commented on the front yards, mostly the front porches, and the horses. No, I do not live in a rural town, and yes there were two horses tucked in at the end of a dead-end street. Go figure, but long ago I learned never to judge lives I will not lead. And I cannot imagine living with horses or any other kind of animal as I am highly allergic.

The morning was brisk and chilly. It was in the 50s. I wore my new (yes, I broke one of the cardinal race rules and wore something new) hoodie that I got from Blue Sky Endurance. It is the Comet Seamless Hoodie from Salomon Running I love hoodies and I almost really love this one.

But first the good stuff: the seamless body fits nicely. I bought a size up so that it was roomy as they fit true to size. It was super soft and cozy. With its engineered mesh zones, this hoodie is breathable with wicking fabric that kept my body temperature stable. It kept me warm enough when we began our walk and as it got warmer it did not stifle me. the color was nice, too. I would even wear this with jeans and boots.

What I did not like was the thumbhole contraption. Perhaps contraption is not the right word, but I cannot think of another one at this moment. Full disclosure I probably love thumbholes a bit too much. I think every piece of apparel with long sleeves should have them. Yes, even my dresses. My mom disagrees and she is probably right, but I am entitled to my opinion. Anyway, I wanted true thumbholes and not whatever this is. While I am sure there was research that went into this thumbhole thing and that there is a good reason for it to be this way, I am not a fan. And I could be in the minority. What else is new?

As for our walk, we finished it. It was an adventure. I gained new knowledge about my neighborhood. We all caught up in the four hours that it took us to walk. We were tired in a good way. It was hard, but we did it. And we are thinking that maybe, just maybe we will do it again.

Flying needing to be seen

2020-10-29T09:42:00.004-04:00

Originally posted in the Blue Sky endurance newsletter because I am a @gearguru.

Lately, I have been a bit hesitant to go outside to run. The events of this past year have caused me to examine my participation in outside physical activity. Part of this analysis is because my running looks a bit different due to the osteoarthritis in my right knee. My running is often a cobble of run/walk and maybe a skip in between. Another part is due to the mass amount of racial unrest in this country and the fact that Ahmad Aubrey was murdered while running 45 minutes from where I now reside. Events like this have left me, a Black woman without much solace.

Running has always been my safe haven and now I wonder if I am safe. Even in the midst of my doubts, I am still out the door at 5:30am. Armed with a huge stick and a taser I now take the Sunlight Duo rechargeable light by DuraVision Pro. It is small, lightweight , and extremely bright. It clips on my waistband without pulling my pants down. That leaves my hands free. And it stays in place not bouncing as I move. Which means I can focus on my surroundings instead of being distracted. It is rechargeable which means that I do not have to search for batteries in my junk drawer. You know that place where they are supposed to be and yet most times, I find the empty package. I charged it when I first got it about two weeks ago and have not had to recharge it yet even after using it two hours at least five times a week. It illuminates things even when there are no streetlights and in a room in my house when I did not turn the lights on. This tiny light makes running feel a bit safer and that is exactly what I need right now.

Flying into excellence

2020-10-29T09:33:00.003-04:00

Originally posted for Blue Sky Endurance because I am a #gearguru.

Today I stepped into excellence, not perfection excellence. There is a difference. Excellence means that you have done the work to the best of your ability. You have pushed yourself to the edge as defined by you not by your parents, your friends, and not by society. You get to set the goals and you get to crush them. And you can do this every freaking day. Just show up for one more step, one more minute, one more mile, one more of whatever it is you do or that you want to do. It all counts. It all counts even if no one sees you and it reverberates mightily when someone does. Just do the thing, your thing even if it's the thing that you thought you couldn't, shouldn't wouldn't ever do. That is how stereotypes crash and confidence roars. Come on let's do this thing, stereotypes be damned.

My foray into excellence this time (Yes, you are allowed more than one time. In fact you should do it every day in some form or fashion) was standing front and center in front of 30+ people of all shapes, sizes, ages, races, abilities, and I assume religious ideologies. This was my largest yoga class to date. I was ready and yet the butterflies were rampant. Deep breaths, soft gaze, and focus. One more time and then again and again. Just one more. Namaste and then showtime. Front and center. I am in charge. Just do the thing.

Good thing I had on the super silky comfortable tank top. It beautifully wicked the sweat probably fueled more by nervousness than exertion from my body. I love that the back in a bit longer and covers my rear for that tiny bit of modesty that I want. Not in a dowdy old fashioned way, but in a cool pulled together not letting it all hang out in public kind of way. Not that there is anything wrong with letting it all hang out, this just wasn't the place for that. The ample armholes provide lots of room for me to move through poses without restriction and the seams did not rub me raw. The mesh center back panel allowed me to remain cool or as cool as I could be in front of all those people. Plus it's pretty cute. The Blue Sky Endurance logo emblazoned across the front reminded me that I have support along my journey. I am never alone in my trek for excellence and regardless of your fitness level neither are you.

Flying voting

2020-10-23T09:29:00.001-04:00

Early voting in Georgia started on October 12th. The lines to vote for that entire week were about a half-mile long. People were doing the best they could to social distance, but the heat and the sheer amount of people made that a huge task.

Potential voters were told to bring personal accommodations such as chairs, snacks, and water. There were volunteers handing out water and snacks to those who did not get the memo or who perhaps had been in line so long that they ran out of snacks and things.

I saw a lot of canes and walkers. People were out in full force. A friend of mine got in line at 5:30am and there were people who were there an hour before that. The polls did not open until 8. People were on a mission to vote. I do not know if most were worried that the mail would not deliver their ballots in time or if they wanted to be caught up in the excitement of this election.

I was happy to see all of the people in line but saddened that some were in line for 8 hours. Some of my friends and I talked about going and making a day of it. Having a picnic in the line. That would make it less stressful and less like a task. Plus we would have great stories to tell people when this election was over.

Instead, a friend and I voted on a Saturday afternoon. The line was not visible from the street. There was a tent to shield us from the sun. We have just eaten lunch and not in need of any sustenance. And we had time. I was a tiny bit worried that I may need a chair since we had already gotten in our 5 miles and my arthritic knee was making its presence known.

We got in line anyway. We heard a few stories. Most of the people in line were teachers discussing the impact of COVID-19 on their schools and teaching strategies. There were complaints about this and that. No confrontations or angry words. We all watched a bit anxiously when a police officer told a woman that she needed to put on her mask. She didn't want to. She stated that. She looked around and when no one came to her aid she begrudgingly put it on. She had 'bad attitude' stamped all over her face. A few whispered that we knew who she was voting for. One should not assume, but I am sure we all did.

Forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds later my civic duty was done. I had voted. I had voted upfront and in person. I have the sticker to prove it. Fortunately, I encountered none of the issues I had been warned about. I had studied the ballot beforehand and had a few civil discussions with others as to what the amendments meant. I had researched the candidates at the local level. I was an informed voter.

Flying low

2020-10-12T19:51:00.003-04:00

Jon Tyson

It has been about a year since I last posted. So much has happened that I don't know where to begin. So I will just dive right on in. This is the first time in my life that I have actually been afraid to be out in public as a Black woman. I mean, I have seen my share of racism before now like the time when I ran over the Cooper River bridge and a car of white men drove past and called me the N-word. I was shocked, but not rocked to my core like now. I just thought was an isolated incident.

I don't think that anymore. Nothing is isolated. It is blatant and consistent. I took a break from social media and the news. Too many triggers. Too many unarmed Black men dying at the hands of white police officers. Too many white women calling the police on Black people for just living their lives. This is reminding too many of us of Emmett Till. I cannot unsee the murder of George Floyd and those 8:46 seconds. And then there is Breonna Taylor. And then there are many, oh so many more. I don't sleep so well these days. Ahmad Aubrey was murdered about 45 minutes from where I live.

And yes I know about civil rights. I was on the planning committee of the first relay from Selma to Montgomery Alabama where we ran the same route walked in March 1965 for voting rights. I know that people died so that I could vote and do plenty of other things. I know my history. I just never thought that I would be fighting to gain the footholds that those before me had already gained. Or was it simply an illusion?

I don't blame the current administration for racism. It has been systemically around for many years. And as crazy as it sounds now, I thought we had moved past it. Yes, my privilege is showing. I am a Black woman. I am an educated Black woman. I am an employed Black woman. I am a Black woman military veteran. I am a Black woman who owns a house. And yet if the police are called I am just a Black woman with all the stereotypes and microaggressions that the law allows. And the law allows for plenty. People are allowed to be afraid of me because I am Black. My skin is viewed as a weapon even when I am sleeping. And that is why when a police car is behind me I call someone, just in case while knowing that isn't really going to keep me safe. The best I can do is pray for a video.

It is exhausting gearing up for battle every single day and then expected to be professional. It is exhausting trying to make myself appear less than so that people won't feel uncomfortable around me. It is exhausting to hold my tongue when I hear that all lives matter. When I know the person saying it doesn't give a damn about the Black ones. And yet, I must not raise my voice, cut my eyes, or show any emotion in my face. It is exhausting.

Every single day that I wake up I feel that I am not doing enough. I stand in front of my classes and try to make sense out of things that don't make sense for not only my Black male students but for the entire class. I have to teach as if my heart is not breaking. I have to teach as if I am immune from all that is happening around me. Black people are being murdered and we fail to hold anyone accountable. Protests are good, but they are not enough. We need to vote. Vote for the greater good. Vote for humanity.

Well, I did not do what I was supposed to do. I got angry. I spoke out on a podcast. My episode is called Screw ur Kumbaya. That's right I said it. Then I collaborated on the Banners of Courage t-shirt line. I created a module to address social justice for the yoga community. And I am still angry. I am angry when my so-called white friends remain silent. Or when they privately message me that they are here for me. I need you to be here for me in public spaces. I need you to advocate for me every single day with fire and breath.

I need you to know that it isn't easy being Black right now. Not that it ever has been, but lately it has been much worse. Black people are being murdered for being Black. We are not okay. I am not okay.

Flying with paradigm shifts

2019-05-24T18:00:00.000-04:00

I have not written for a long time. I meant to write sooner, but every time I started to something came up and derailed me. There has been a lot of turmoil in my life and some of it I did not handle very well. I disassociated from a group whose mission I really believed in. It was part of my dream. And then I realized that the philosophical differences were too vast and I just did not want to try to bridge them. I had been feeling uncomfortable about this situation for many months and it kept getting worse for me.

I will admit that I did not reach out to communicate my unease. At some point, I just stopped caring. And I unceremoniously vanished. I broke up with them via text which is exactly what happened to me in a personal situation and I swore I would never do that to anyone. I guess I lied. Or maybe I just figured out that the amount of effort you put into ending something exemplifies the amount of value you have in the relationship. I was not the bigger person and it felt just fine. I do not feel guilty and maybe I should. Not for what I felt, but for how I reacted. No matter, it is done and as I said I feel great. Now I can move on to other things without that baggage. I wish them well. I really do.

Then I ran a horrible half marathon. Yes, I know that some runs are just not as awesome as others, but this one really sucked. My right knee hurt so bad that I walked the last three miles. I did not even try to run across the finish line. And I cried. There was another woman with me in a similar situation. At least she had friends waiting for her at the end. There was no one waiting for me. My running career crashed and burned and I got in my car and cried all the way home and into the night.

Yes, there are worse things. Yes, there are people who would trade places with me. Well, guess what? They can't and at the end of the day I still have my sh** and those better and worse people still have theirs.

Then by some collaboration of the universe, I met someone. It is new and I am not defining it as a thing yet. But for the first time in a long time, I am inspired. I am learning so much about myself through his eyes. Very cool for me since this rarely happens. He is not in complete awe of me. He may not be in awe of me at all and that is just fine. Because falling off of someone's imaginary pedestal hurts like hell, especially when you did not put yourself up there and have no earthly idea just how high it is. Just let me be me without artificial inflation, thank you very much. And that is all that I will say about that. It isn't a thing until it is if it ever is. And surprisingly I am okay with that. I am in this with my brain fully functioning and hope for more good things to come. I do not need someone on a white horse to save me. I saved myself a long time ago, but it is great to have someone make that makes me laugh.

Flying outside of my comfort zone, again

2019-04-04T11:46:00.000-04:00

Leio McLaren

Last year I completed my 200 hour yoga teacher certification. During the process I said that I wanted to bring yoga to those who did not have access to it. I thought I would be teaching in a homeless shelter. I kept saying over and over and over about how that is what I was going to do. Then I wrote a research paper on the whiteness of yoga and the wheels started turning. I kept saying that I needed to teach yoga in a public space. Women of color kept asking me where I was teaching. The owner of a local studio asked me to teach at her place. I said I would. and yet, I have not. I have plenty of reasons or excuses disguised as reasons. One of them being afraid.

And then I agreed to teach yoga to elementary school kids again. The program now has 80 children. That is right 80. And surprise surprise , this year an adult component was added. So I now teach adults. Yikes! Everything that I was running away from just hit me smack in the face. I have to teach adults. Teaching adults is much scarier than teaching kids. The kids will do any pose and giggle in between. Most are not afraid of flipping their dogs or moving into wheel (with the proper warm-ups, of course). Adults understand how things feel within their bodies. They have expectations of feeling great after a class. I know. I am one of them. I am an adult.
So, now none of my excuses disguised as reasons matter at this point. I have taught two adult classes. I did not die. I did freak out a bit when I moved a class too quickly through the sequence and had to add poses. I also slowed the end of the class down. I did not even sweat. Well, not so that anyone could see it. I felt it.

Now I am in week two. I am still a bit anxious, but I know what I am doing (for the most part). I am able to read a room and make modifications. The freak outs are fewer. I did it. I moved beyond the things real and/or imaginary that were holding me back from teaching. From making yoga accessible to people who might not ever try it or walk into a yoga studio for a variety of reasons. In my small corner of this world yoga is not so white. It is fun, funky, liberating, and beautiful. And for that I am proud. I am completely out of my comfort zone. and I will do it twice a week for seven weeks and who knows what happens after that.

I also accomplished what I set out to do. I am teaching. Not in a studio, but out in the community where impact is still being made. Teaching in a homeless shelter is still on my radar. Just right now I am being called to be somewhere else.
The best piece of advice someone has ever given me was 'do it scared.' And no matter if you're scared, just go ahead and do it anyway because you might as well do it scared, so it will get done and you will feel so much better if you step out of your comfort zone.
~Sherri Shepherd

Flying with acupunture

2019-03-14T11:26:00.003-04:00

Lately my right knee has been hurting. Interestingly not when I ran 8 miles, but when I ran 4. It hurts a lot more when I walk than when I run. I did not want to go back to my doctor for another shot, plus it had only been one month since the last one. I tried heating and icing. I tried more yoga. I tried less yoga. I tried more swimming. I tried less swimming. I even tried less running. Aleve seemed to help, but I do not want to pop Aleve every day for the rest of my life. so I Googled things to do to manage arthritis pain and acupuncture popped up.

I had heard that acupuncture is good for many things, but I had never tried it. The more I Googled the more convinced I became that I should try it. There were many testimonials from people and even my Facebook friends chimed in about the benefits. And we all know that if it is on Facebook, it must be true! On a practical level I figured it is minimally invasive and the worst thing that would happen is that it would not work. It isn't knee surgery (which I am trying to avoid).

I had butterflies in my stomach a couple hours before my appointment. I had read everything I could find on acupuncture and yet the fear of the unknown loomed large. The nurse was very friendly and quickly handled all of the paperwork. She told me what to expect.

The procedure did not hurt. I did flinch when one needle was placed. The hardest part was relaxing for 25 minutes while the needles were inserted. My mind kept running and I did not do a very good job of turning my head off. those 25 minutes seemed a lot longer.

When the needles were removed my knee was not as stiff as before the treatment. I was warned that my pain could intensify and that was normal and the treatment might not work the first time. All can I say is that today is the first day I woke up without the need to pop some Aleve. I will go back a couple times next week and hopefully that will be all until it flares up again. It is too early to tell if this is a long term solution, but I am grateful for the break from the pain.

Flying with Mars

2019-03-07T09:34:00.000-05:00

I used the Skyview Free app

Lately, I have been obsessed with the night sky. I will admit that this is a phase that comes and goes. Once for Christmas, I asked for a telescope. And I rarely used it. Eventually, it made its way out of some random storage space to Goodwill. At least I think that is where it went. I just hope that some child (preferably a girl child) is enjoying it. Of course, now I sort of wish I had it. Sort of because it was a bit heavy and awkward to lug outside. And I never read the directions on how to use it properly.

Fast forward to now. Now I routinely go outside and look at the night's sky. I am fascinated by the many stars and planets that appear. Some more regularly than others. My latest delight has been seeing Mars. Mars the red planet and the fourth planet from the sun. I actually saw it with my naked eye and it was red. It is called the "Red Planet" because iron minerals in the Martian dirt oxidize, or rust, causing the surface to look red. I thought that seeing Jupiter would be my highlight, but for some reason it was Mars.

When I spotted it (with the assistance of some lovely free apps on my phone) I jumped up and down while screaming "I see Mars!" in my driveway. My neighbors may think that I am crazy since they rarely see me outside or at home. I could not contain my excitement. I saw Mars. It has been there in the sky my entire life and I am finally seeing it with my own eyes.

Of course, there are other things out there as well, but currently, I am fixated on Mars. I cannot explain why. To my knowledge, I never had a favorite planet in whatever grade I learned about the solar system. Was that fifth grade? Or maybe third? And red is not my favorite color. It is orange so maybe close enough? Or maybe because I keep hearing about Mars retrograde and I was not even sure what that really meant until I just read the link. Huh, and wow, I guess. And there is the candy company. You know, the world’s leading manufacturer of chocolate, chewing gum, mints, and fruity confections.

Whether you share my fascination with the night sky or not, take time to glance up at it every now and then. Allow yourself to wonder at what lies beyond our grasp.

Flying with a local Black History icon

2019-02-26T11:05:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was the inaugural Savannah Campus' Black History Month lecture. I invited The Honorable Tammy Stokes who happens to be a local Black History icon. Among many other things, she is the first African American woman judge in Chatham County and she is the chief justice. I take pride in that I pulled the friend card and got her to attend. I will say this again, I have amazing friends.

It was wonderful and relevant to have a local icon speak. Black History as will all histories is evolving. Every day someone is doing something monumental. Maybe not on a national level, but certainly on a local level and local level contributions are important. Elizabeth Jennings comes to mind. She refused to get off the trolley in New York in 1854. I did not learn this is school.

History even black history happens all of the time. As I mentioned above Judge Stokes was the first woman judge in Chatham County. Local history at its finest. At its finest even when there were some very dark times for her. Being an icon is not always a smooth row to hoe. Being able to talk with a local legend is always a bonus. It was nice to see what grace and dignity under fire look like in real life. To be able to ask the questions that help us to understand and often not understand why things are or aren't. Helping us craft our own recipe for success while dutifully avoiding the pitfalls that are placed in our paths.

Judge Stokes' talk did not focus on herself. She concentrated on Henrietta Lacks and her amazing continued contribution to society mostly done without her or her family's approval or knowledge. She died in 1951 and to this day her cells are used international research.

Judge Stokes articulated that she had not heard of Henrietta until recently and that there should be an awareness that there are more Black History icons outside of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, and the other well-known people that we see on posters year after year. The ones we learn about in school year after year as if the list is finite and that there as so few of them. That is so not the case. Cynthia Marshall in a perfect example. She is the first black woman to be CEO of an NBA team. I had no idea.

After her talk, she came to my class and answered student questions. She briefly discussed the notion of justice being fair, not equal. She detailed her experiences as a judge and as a woman of color. It was very enlightening. I think it was the first time my students were in the presence of a judge without being in a courtroom. She gave out tidbits of sage advice and they were fascinated as was I.

Like Judge Stokes, I discovered that there is so much of Black History that I did not know. This year I have learned more about Black History than ever before. I even created a hashtag on Facebook #morelearning so that later I can go back and compile my learnings. I waffled between emotions: excited, baffled, and angry. Excited to learn new things about the ways blacks have contributed to our society even in times of great physical hardships. Baffled that I was not taught these things in school and that I as a highly educated woman did not read about these things in life. And finally angry that so many atrocities happened at depths that I will never understand and that restitution and/or adjustments have not completely been made. And when I hear that we have come a long way, I think perhaps, but not far enough. Am I supposed to take pride in the advancement of change that is far from being fair and just?

I have no answer to that question. I will just continue to learn as much as I can. I will make a more concerted effort to seek out and celebrate the local icons. Like Judge Stokes, they are part of the tapestry that is proudly Black History and ever evolving.

Flying a half marathon with no training

2019-02-19T16:17:00.001-05:00

I ran a half marathon last weekend. I did not train for it and I did not plan to run it. My friend Wendy from Charleston got invited to pace the race a week before and I decided that I would run it as well. Yes, there was a 5K race that I could have done, but where is the fun in that? Especially when there is a half marathon to run?

I figured the worst thing that would happen is that I would not finish. The next worst thing would be to walk the entire thing. Anything more than that would be a success. Actually walking would be a success as well. I had run 23 half marathons up to this point. So maybe, just maybe muscle memory would kick in? Yeah, that sounds crazy, but what else could I say? I had paid my money. I had told people. It was a done deal no matter how ugly. I had forgotten that I had not run a half in over two years.

I started off great. And then I just got tired. The longest run I had up to that point was 6 miles and that was the week before. The rule is to increase weekly mileage by 10%. Going from 6 miles to 13.1 is a lot more than 10%. I wanted the miles on my legs. And I got them.

I was actually training for an April 6th half. So I figured this would supercharge my training if I did not kill myself in the process. It didn't kill me, but my knee (the one with arthritis) is not happy with me. I sort of forgot about that.

This wasn't the whackiest thing I have ever done. I ran a marathon without training. Well, I ran up to 15 miles. But I had been running consistently up to that point. This time there were no consistent miles. Just a hairbrained idea and the thought of supporting my friend.

It ended well. I finished. Much slower than I had run in many years. But that wasn't the point. I was coming back. I was present and accounted for. My race, my pace. I wasn't last. I would have gladly been fine with being last because being last is still a finish.

I just ran. I ran for myself. I did not try to pass anyone. I did not try to smoke anyone. I listened to my body and to the best of my ability attempted to enjoy the journey.

I forgot that I wear the Just Run mantra band. The box has these words on it:

Remember that the race is against your mind. Your body will achieve what your mind believes. Run fast, run slow, run a little, run a lot. Have the courage to start, keep going, just run.

And run I did and I have the medal to prove it.

Flying with accomplices

2019-02-12T11:13:00.001-05:00

I have accomplices. We are partners in crime, but our crimes are not really criminal offenses. After all one of my accomplices is a judge and that would not bode well with her career. Anyway, I think we all need at least one accomplice. You know, that person who will jump in the car with you and do whatever it is you want to do even if it may not be the best decision you have ever made.

So far my accomplices and I have not done anything lacking in judgment. Just last weekend one went to a Prince-inspired yoga class. We dressed alike. We practiced yoga next to each other and had a great time. Yeah, we are 'extra' like that. And no one expects anything less from us. It is amazing what finding the right friend can do. We haven't danced anything out yet like Meredith and Christina, but give us time.

Another accomplice came from Charleston last weekend. we got up and ran 6 miles. I really miss running with her. We chatted and somehow someway I managed to register for a half marathon that takes place THIS SATURDAY. I think this one could be labeled as something lacking good judgment since I have not run more than 6 miles this year and barely did that last year. I do not think I have run more than 10 miles in the past two years. And yet easy as you please I am registered. I keep telling myself to just get in the back and just focus on finishing. It is too late to try to train for it. Hopefully the cortisone shot that I got last Friday will help mitigate the pain. Worst case I just walk a lot. That will not be the worst thing ever. Plus I really just want the miles on my legs and to get my daily allotment of steps.

Flying with the moon

2019-01-24T10:25:00.001-05:00

Sunday night I did something that I have never done before. I danced by the light of the moon. Why? Because it was a super blood wolf moon eclipse and for some reason the phrase 'dance by the light of the moon' was stuck in my head. Apparently I heard it somewhere. I just looked it up. It is poem that I must have heard eons ago. Certainly not recently.

I almost drove to Charleston to watch the moon from the bridge or maybe even gather some friends and run. Then I thought about just going to my favorite spot on Sullivan's Island and watching the moon over the ocean. In the end I went to Lake Mayer a mere 15 minutes from my house. At least there was water.

I do not know why, but I have always wanted to dance by the light of the moon and in my mind a super blood wolf moon was the perfect occasion to do it. I carefully crafted two playlists. One was full of powerful women like Nina, Tina, Mariah, Aretha, and Alicia. My accomplice and I danced to it even though she complained and said that this playlist had nothing to do with the moon. I argued that strong women have everything to do with everything including the moon.

Did I mention that we were not alone? There were a few other cars and one strange pick-up truck in the parking lot. And we danced anyway. We must have been a site. It was cold outside. We both had on hats, earmuffs, gloves hand warmers inside of our gloves, boots, coats, and scarves. We gyrated our hips, moved our shoulders, and nodded our heads to the soulful sounds and sang loudly and very off key. We may have sounded better if we howled at the moon, but interestingly enough we did not do that.
Eventually I switched to the other playlist of Native American flute music. I imagined that somewhere Native Americans were (or did) dance in celebration of the moon. I do not know how to dance any native dances so I sat with my eyes closed imagining how that celebration would look. And I love flute music. We sat reverently sipping hot chocolate, non-alcoholic hot chocolate because neither of us had any Bailey's and the decision to have hot chocolate was made only an hour before our appointed meeting time. I am not complaining it was hot and it was good. But I will make sure to have Bailey's in my house from now on. You never know when another hot chocolate emergency will happen.

We had so many questions about what was happening as we watched the spectacle of the eclipse. We then downloaded the app Star Walk 2 and saw so many constellations and stars. They were all labeled and we were able to see the sky in an entirely new way. And we danced. Oh how we danced. I know what happened that night was purely scientific. But I swear there was some magic sprinkled it. I felt it.

Flying with a view

2019-01-16T16:13:00.001-05:00

The other day I went for a run with my friend Tammy. I needed the push and the accountability. If not I would have just stayed in my bed a bit longer. And as usual, I am always happy that I ran.

For the record, I hate running in circles. So we ran around Lake Mayer then ventured out on the road. Then it started to rain. Actually a light mist, but the weatherman said expect rain so we turned around just in case the skies opened.

Then we saw the birds. There were beautiful egrets in flight. And blue herons. It is hard to see, but in the picture there is a blue heron. At least I think that is what it is. I am a bit rusty on my sea fowl now that I do not see them as often. It is times like this that I miss living in Charleston where I saw water on a daily basis.

And then there were the geese. Nice and big. And this one just posed. At one point it looked at me (I do not know the males from the females so I am using the pronoun it). It looked directly at me and I guess I was taking too long to take the picture that it turned its head and refused to look at me again. And perhaps I was a bit too close, like in his personal space. He did not honk. He just stood there waiting for something. At least that is what I think.

The main thing outside of actually getting some physical exercise done is the realization that I would not have seen any of these birds if I had stayed in my house. I would not have felt the gentle breeze against my skin or the light misty cool rain. Some days that is all I need.

Flying with a vision

2019-01-09T13:52:00.001-05:00

I finally did it. I created a vision board. I know that I am very late to this party. I have sort of always wanted to do one. I just did not know how to start and was not sure what to put on it. And I honestly have never sat still long enough to envision anything in my life. I just always went with the flow unless I saw something specific. I never charted my future or even had a plan. I just did not. I marveled at the people who carved paths and achieved the things they outlined. And I have heard stories from those who put things that they had no idea to achieve and those things happened. One person said that if you can envision it, it is already in motion. I need some things to be in motion.

The reason I decided to do one this year is because I needed to do something different to usher in the new year. The last time I decided to do something different that turned out to be running a last minute marathon in Ocala, Florida. I have not anything like that before or since.

I just felt stuck and needed to do something instead of just waiting. So when I saw the workshop for the New Moon New year Sacred Intentions workshop, I signed up. I needed to set some intentions. Not resolutions. I stopped setting those a while ago. I needed to be intentional about my life. I need some things to be in motion.

At first I just stared at the blank paper. Then I browsed through magazines and just tore out things that I liked. Most of them were words. None of the items seemed to make any sense so I did not glue anything. After the workshop I went to Target with Tammy and she bought a bigger board because she said she had a lot of visions. So I naturally followed suit and bought a big orange piece.

I glued my pictures on it. I added words. I dared to think about what I want my life to look like. And I even wrote down words. It is not done yet, but I am enjoying the exercise. I may go to jail for stealing magazines out of break rooms and waiting rooms. I do not have physical magazines. I get mine all electronic because I allowed them to pile up and ended up throwing too many of them away.

I need some things to be in motion. I know that now and now I know what those things should be-exactly what I want.

Flying on the first Wednesday of the year

2019-01-02T12:39:00.003-05:00

It is officially 2019. It was official yesterday. Last year seemed to go by so fast and yet there were times when I felt like it was crawling. And now it is done. Done and gone. We are now in a new year. A new beginning. A time for new stuff. This year I am going try to be more present, more fearless, more vocal, more daring, and more of whatever shows up. Except for drama, negativity, fear, and other things I would just rather not face.

This year I want to delve deeper into what makes me happy, fulfilled, and allow those things to allow me to continue sharing wisdom and amplifying my voice. For me this is the year of the iceberg. Yes, that is right, the year of the iceberg. I had never seen one in real life until I went on a cruise to Alaska. Then I became enchanted by them. Little chunks or not so little chunks of ice floating in the ocean.

I learned that 90% of the iceberg is below the water. We can only see 10%. That is a perfect symbol for life. We just can't see it all and most of it is hidden. This year I want to taste more than my normal 10% of life. I want to learn more, do more, see more, and ultimately be more.

I do not exactly have a plan on how to accomplish all of that yet, but I will begin with reading more. I have a few new books on my Kindle that I need to read. I am also actually going to teach a yoga class at a local studio in February. My stomach is fluttering at the thought. I have been putting that off because I do not feel 'ready'. It is now time to get ready. Procrastination and I need to part ways.

If a writer knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one ninth of it being above water.

Ernest Hemingway

Flying for an angel

2018-12-11T09:10:00.001-05:00

For the past few years I have taken an angel off of the Salvation Army Christmas tree. I usually get an older kid because those are the ones less likely to be chosen. They ask for bigger gifts. I heard that the kids are told not to ask for anything too extravagant. I understand the reasoning behind that, but isn't that what kids do on Christmas? Ask for really big stuff and maybe getting some of it? I know I did. Actually, I am not sure if that is what I did. I always got what I asked for so I am not sure if I asked for inexpensive things or if my parents went into major debt on Christmas. Maybe I will ask.

Back to my angel. I chose a 12 year old girl. My mother, a friend, and I divided up the list. We managed to get the girl everything she had on there. Some things were challenging like the bike. We may have gotten it too big because we do not know how tall she is. We know that size clothes she wears, but that does not tell us if she is tall or short. But the bike is pretty so that should count for something, right? Yeah, maybe not. We did our best. I will admit that I said that I was not buying an expensive bike for a child that I did not know. That is because I do know how she rides. I do not know what kind of a bike she needs/wants. I was guessing. The bike is pretty which as I mentioned before may or may not count for much. The bike is new. And I hope she loves it.

A few people said that they just got one thing on their angel's list because well, the children has nothing so one thing is better than nothing. Another person said that they were not going to spend a lot of money getting a stranger's child gifts that just might get stolen. And the list of why people were not buying or buying what they bought was astounding. Especially since I did not even ask.

I wanted to get everything on my angel's list. Why? Because it is Christmas and perhaps the family had a crappy year. Maybe something great needs to happen for this child. No strings attached. How I managed my list is in no way saying anything about what anyone else did. In fact when people marveled at what I (and my mom and friend) did and then relayed their tales of woe I simply chuckled to myself. I am not the Christmas angel police.

Flying above the clouds

2018-11-16T09:32:00.000-05:00

I like to think of myself as being very grounded. I tend to notice things from differing viewpoints and while I may not always agree with those points I do acknowledge their presence and respect them as much as I can.

This latest round of Georgia elections has me puzzled. Or maybe dismayed is the better word. I do not understand how someone thinks that an ad pointing a rifle at a teenager is acceptable regardless of the platform. It gave me pause and I am not completely against the right to bear arms.

I am trying to figure out exactly when our elected officials turned from being the voice of their constituencies to being the voice for individual power. Or maybe I just had not been paying close enough attention most of my life. Perhaps when it happened does not matter. The fact that it happened is of greater concern.

If those we have elected do not speak for us who does? Or must we constantly rely on being arrested for protesting, posting outrageous incidents on social media, and writing letters to the editor to be heard?

When will running for public office be available for those who cannot pay the high filing fees, party dues, get advertising dollars, and whatever else is necessary to simply run a campaign? I hear the argument that not everyone should run for office. Okay, that is true and it is even more true for some of those who have the means to run and do.

I do not have the answers. All I can do is give my students the platform of a safe space to talk about our differences. To talk about those things that make us uncomfortable. To share experiences that have jaded us and those that have made us whole. The least I can do is listen and not react, not flinch, not roll my eyes, and not speak. This is how I learn. This is how I instill trust and respect. Only then am I able to ask the questions that often pierce the depths of ugliness and prejudice. And even that does not always work.

Where is the table where we sit to talk about what is not working? How do we come to together to make this nation better for ALL OF US? Why is doing a good deed considered heroic? Why isn't it normal behavior?

I do not have the answers. I just have tons of questions. And every now and then I get the opportunity to see the world from a different vantage point like above the clouds. Above the clouds with the sun rising. From this point everything seems beautiful.

Flying with the vote

2018-11-06T09:40:00.003-05:00

Today is the day to vote in the midterm elections. There has been a huge push for people to vote early and this year over 2.1 million people did which is a state record. We have held voter registration drives on our campus and I know that at least one person who registered for the first time in his 30+ years actually went out and voted. I will admit that I do not understand that how someone that old never thought about registering to vote, but that is fine. It happens and it happens more than I could ever realize for a myriad of reasons. Fortunately for me, on my 18th birthday, my dad took me to wherever one registers to vote in Wedowee, Alabama (yes, that is a real place).

We are voters in my family. We just never talked about who to vote for. I honestly do not know who my parents voted for in any election. I can surmise, but I honestly do not know. Except for the Roy Moore run-off. I told my mother that we needed to talk about that election. She looked at me and said something like she was not stupid and she knew who to vote for. She said that she did not vote for him before and would not vote for him now. So I quietly stepped back into my place of silence. And that is the only conversation I have ever had about voting in my family. I mean, I think my parents voted for President Obama. But I really do not know and I am grateful for that. I was allowed to make independent voting decisions.

I will admit that I did not always take that responsibility with the full value that it deserves. There are times when I did not research the candidates and simply voted based on what I heard/saw in the media. I thought that my vote did not count, but I had to do it because too many people died so that I could vote. And now I know that votes do count. And earlier this year I co-founded the Civil Rights Race series which organized a 51-mile relay from Selma to Montgomery in the exact footsteps of those who walked in 1965 for the right to vote for blacks. I also did a presentation at the Beach Institute here in Savannah on Pilgrimage to Sacred Spaces: Commemorating Selma. So I have no excuse not to vote and no reason not to encourage others to vote.

And today is the day to show up and be counted, yet again. Today is the day to redefine or maybe further define our nation. (I stole that from one of my students). This isn't Selam in 1965, but it is a historical moment and we must rise to the occasion. In Georgia, we have the opportunity to have the first black woman governor in the freaking country with Stacey Abrams. It is difficult to believe (okay, maybe not really) that there has not been one yet. Not only is she a woman of color, but she also has an actual platform. (I never advocate for voting for someone based on skin color or gender since stupidity, greed, and a list of other negative attributes come in all shapes, sizes, and colors).

Anyway, make today a great day. Get out and vote.

Flying with Jessamyn Stanley

2018-10-30T05:00:00.000-04:00

I met Jessamyn Stanley Not only did I meet her I was able to breathe the same air as her. I was in her space. I was all up in her stuff. Not really, but I stared at her a lot. I do not think she noticed or maybe she was just to polite to say anything. She was wonderful.

For whatever reason, I felt free in her class. Not that I felt overly constricted in other classes. Or maybe I just did not know what feeling free actually felt like. But I know it now. And it was wonderful. I did poses that I would never dare try before and did others much deeper than ever before.

I am not sure why that is. I do not think I knowingly not do poses. I mean there are certain instructors that I vibe with more than others. There are only a couple that I trust enough to close my eyes in savasana. I think that is a holdover from my military days. I just do not feel safe in many environments and rarely close my eyes when the instructor tells me to. When I teach I generally say "Close your eyes if you feel comfortable. Know that I will keep mine open. You are safe." And that resonates with people.

Tammy, Jessamy, and me

I will admit that there was something about Jessamyn being front and center that gave me permission to just be. It did not matter that my skin was darker than many in that class. It did not matter that I am not a skinny stick figure and that I did not have on Lululemon apparel. It did not matter that I am not the bendiest (I am surprised that spellcheck accepted that word) person. She reminded us that yoga is not a performance. It is a sense of being. We should only do yoga for ourselves. No judgments from ourselves. Peace comes from within. The poses are just a small part of yoga. What you do on your mat is what you do even if she does not direct me that way.

Those words somehow lifted my soul. I need to do me. My mat is my own. I knew that. I had heard it before and yet being told that again in that space with her made all of the difference. She made the difference.

There is something to be said about seeing someone who looks more like me than my other instructors. It is not just about outward appearance. It is that silent acknowledgment of understanding the journey. It's like knowing where we have been even if we were there at different times and perhaps in different places and spaces. It was about the collective unity of our souls. I thought I understood it. I even wrote my research paper for yoga teacher training on "Why is yoga so white?" Logically I got it. And yet that day I really got it. It was like I was given permission to get it. And none should have been required. Do I need permission to just be? I thought I was living my truth out loud. And yet I felt so completely unencumbered during the three hours that she guided me through pose after pose after pose.

We could not stop laughing and hugging

I did not know how much I needed Jessamyn. I did not know how much I needed to witness this beautiful woman of color move in perfect harmony with her own spirit. Unapologetically moving. Not asking permission, but granting it to herself. I am not sure I do that. Okay, I am sure that I do not do that. I have created a perception of what/how I should move and it is blocking my own natural beautiful movements. I am blocking my own harmonious breath spirit soul connection. I am also not allowing others to see it and be set free by it as Jessamyn did for me. Isn't that why I took yoga teacher training? I have the ability to do more than I am. I guess it is time to start.

Thank you, Jessamyn, for simply being the best you and allowing me to feel the love that you have for yourself unequivocally. Some lessons are best learned by example and you have set a great one.

Flying in Mobile at the FOCUS conference

2018-10-23T05:00:00.000-04:00

Last Friday I was honored to be among many phenomenal women to speak at the FOCUS conference. The sessions were very powerful and intriguing. It was hard to pick just one to attend during the time slots. Fortunately, a few were held more than one. That led to my concern that very few people would attend mine since it was not a hard-hitting professional topic and I am not a familiar name in Mobile.

I could not have been more surprised when the women started arriving and they did not stop. It was standing room only. We ran out of chairs. We were all crammed into that tiny room. It was magical. Being so close we could not help but rub elbows with those around us. We took an oath in the beginning not to repeat the stories of the those who were brave enough and dare I say comfortable enough to share their job stealers. We turned the cameras off. I had no idea what would happen within that room, but it was awe inspiring. The women bonded. The women shared. We laughed. We held our breaths in certain moments. We talked. We listened. We hugged.

And we smashed the hell out of the pinata that was filled with 150 pieces of Dove chocolate because we were grown ass women and we want the good stuff. I could not figure out how to hand the pinata and Kendra forgot the bat so I laid it on the floor in the middle of the circle and we all went at it. Why? Because "Life would be a million times better if there were pinatas strategically placed throughout the day". It was just that simple.

It was wonderful to see women come out of their shells to bash the pinata. This was so not the traditional workshop. These women dug deep. Some sought validation for their feelings. Others just needed to say their issues out loud just be heard. We accommodated them all. It was fun. It was exhausting. It was real. It was truly a workshop because we all worked. I probably needed the workshop more than any of them. I gave the kind of workshop that I needed. That in itself was powerful. And the fact that my friend Kendra introduced me and was my room captain was the icing on the cake.

I would love to be invited back, but if not that is okay. I gave myself what I needed and a few other women benefitted as well. That was the goal and I achieved it.

Flying on task

2018-10-16T10:11:00.003-04:00

There have been many changes at work. The massive layoff created a lot of stress and anxiety. Those of us left are torn. We are happy that we still have a job for the moment yet devastated by that loss for our colleagues. Survivors' guilt. It is difficult to rationalize and we probably should not even try. There is a plan and just because we are not privy to it does not make it less of a plan. We can argue the best practices of organizational management, but there would be no point. So like good soldiers we march on.

I was in the midst of this turmoil of emotions when I was asked to conduct a workshop at a women's business conference in Mobile, AL. I had applied to be the keynote, but I will gladly admit that even I would have chosen the woman they chose instead of me! So now I had the task of developing a workshop that was drastically different from the topic and outline I proposed for the keynote. I asked for suggestions and the answer surprised me. They wanted me to do a workshop on joy.

This is completely out of my comfort zone. I am used to doing workshops on empowerment, handling criticism with dignity and grace, networking, tooting your own horn, job searching, and many other work-related skills. Joy was not one of them. But maybe it should be since right now in my life joy was missing or at best overshadowed by 'stuff'.

So while on my cruise I asked people what brought them joy and the entire workshop (at least a rough outline) came together. I am now excited to present this workshop and I will on Friday, October 19th. I am not using any visual aids. This will all be me conducting a full-on workshop where the participants will get their hands dirty while digging deep to figure out their individual joy mantras. This will be a no holds barred journey, unlike anything I have ever taken before. And it came just when I needed it.

Now I am trying to figure out what to wear. I have decided to shop in my own closet even though I bought a pair of black patent leather peep-toe pumps from Ross for $10.99. Hey, there was no line and there is always a line at Ross. And who does not need a pair of black patent leather peep-toe pumps? Joy is wherever we find it. Right?