I’m surrounded by people I love, who love me. My cup overflows.

Up smiling at 4.
Here on a path of love instead of one of rage.

In my dreams you kiss me softly and often. There is no end in sight.

In no particular order…

- L’Enfant Plaza – Where I fell in love with the tradition and ritual of food, courses! palate cleansers! Where I learned a meal is not just a meal. We ate each night, three in all, at the hotel restaurant. I do not think any meal we had was under 5 courses. Heaven! (c.9 years)

- Hodgepodge: Hot dog, cauliflower, peas, cheese ( and other ingredients that have been forgotten to time) My favorite meal ever prepared by my mother who was just cleaning out the fridge. She threw everything that looked like it might be about to ‘turn’ into a pot and we dined like kings. Downside: no leftovers and no way to recreate. It is the meal I will never forget. (c. 10 years)

- Stargazing with a young Neil Degrasse Tyson – My father took us to a deserted Jersey field. We lay on our backs and searched the sky for shooting stars. The lecture was given by a young Dr. who would go on to become the head of the Hayden Planetarium. (c. 8 years)

- Olympics 2000 – My very first broken heart was eased, or rather witnessed, by practically the entire 2000 Olympics. I think that I watched every single event 24/7 so that I wouldn’t have to focus on the betrayed shambles that my love and my life had become. I can’t remember a single detail of any match, game or meet. Not sure what I would have done without it. (c. 20 years)

- Coconuts: My dad in the driveway of his house in Trenton trying to bust open a coconut for Coconut rice, while my brother and I sat in the sunroof of his car. I think this was the first time I ever heard my Dad curse and also not look perfect. (c. 8 years)

- HSA: Harlem School for the Arts – I danced (ballet, African), I acted (Alice in Alice in Wonderland), I painted and played piano and took piano theory, I sculpted. I embarrassed myself at a dance recital because I had been skipping dance practice for drama rehearsal. I felt known and loved here. I felt powerful and talented. Also they had great biscuits. (c. 7-11 years)

- “You’re more cute than pretty” – My mom and reality. This comment and others like it helped me to develop the thick skin that aids me at every turn. Also helped me deal with reality and not fantasy. (c. 12 years)

- Breaking down in Belize: Rented SUV, I just realized how lost I was in Belize when the car overheated and stopped running. My indulgent American car-panic had no place in Belize and so I matured instantly, overcame the language, lack of local money and got assistance and a new ride to the hotel. I grew up that day in a lot of ways. (c. 26 years)

- Splenectomy – From my diagnosis to the three year medical mystery I became, to the actual operation, including two transfusions gone wild, to the overflow of family and love that was my recovery. My enlarged benign tumor was a huge teacher of patience, faith, persistence, discipline and ultimately survival. I thank my mom for helping me live, for feeding me, dressing me, moving me, etc, etc, etc. My brother for coming over from China and helping me walk again…slooowly. My dad for helping me move, for cleaning up after me and for supporting my mom while she supported me. My aunts and grandma for visiting me, embracing me and helping me get my place together. My surgeon for being so awesome (and funny) and for saving my life, twice. I can honestly say that during the entire process, I was never afraid.  I can only thank God and my ancestors for my piece of mind. (c. 27-30 years)

- My mother volunteered at a festival day at my favorite school, Cathedral St. John The Divine, and she manned the cotton candy machine. When I came over with my best friend, Samantha, she made us both the hugest, most ginormous pink cotton candy swirls. I remember being dwarfed by it and being so happy that day, with my friends, with my school, my life and most of all, my mom. My heart still races whenever I see cotton candy (c. 8 years)

Between persisting and surviving,
I want to
float,
rest,
drift,
be held.

Flashes of anger
Bright spots of disbelief
I breathe failed love out.
Breathe.

Uncovered layer by layer. Known beyond the surface. This is love.

If you were a medieval knight going into battle with a full suit of armor, the advantage you had from the metal’s protection was offset by the extra energy it took to haul around so much extra weight. In fact, historians say this is one reason that a modest force of English soldiers defeated a much larger French army at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. The Frenchmen’s armor was much bulkier, and by the time they slogged through muddy fields to reach their enemy, they were too tired to fight at peak intensity. The moral of the story, as far as you’re concerned: To win a great victory in the coming weeks, shed as many of your defense mechanisms and as much of your emotional baggage as possible.

Love me, in complexity. In weak and tender moments, all. Love me.

Gorgeous moments spilled on into hours. Exhausted in the best way.