STASIS

 

 

 

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That place where souls sit and wait

For the last few miles to fade before

Their dreams come true

 

That corner of the desert where mirages appear

Taking your focus away from the goal at hand

Mirages that offer sinfully, delightful promises

Promises that you know are impossible to keep

But promises that reach your soul none the less

 

The people who suck the energy out of your dreams

And the bed where you lay the now empty shells

In the hopeless hope that they would spring to life

Again

 

That place in the mind where you have put yourself

Through your constant inaction

From your ever present lethargy

Caused by your doubt

Fed by your indifference

Borne of your fear

Fear of all that is

 

Imperative…

 

The need for change which happens through

Movement

Caused by faith

Pushed by knowledge

That the only constant is

The same change

And change of all —

Mind-set, atmosphere, surroundings, ALL THINGS

All of the things that have

Kept you were you are

 

Swimming in the stagnant ooze

Of a swamp called

Stasis

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THE HEALTHY BBW…

 

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In the minds of the uninitiated, that phrase makes no sense.  It could also be taken and knocked around as a joke, because of course, us big girls have simply eaten ourselves to out sized sexiness.

 

SO WRONG!!!

 

The things that people don’t  take the time to look at are things like genetics, disease – and as a result, medication, mind-set, stress levels, earning power.

 

Genetics points us to family and our predisposition to gaining and keeping weight on.  There was a time when the statement “I come from a big-boned family” would cause raucous laughter in any room.  The fact is that although people refer to the bones, it is a fact that families share everything, including the genes that make our bodies the way that they are.  It ain’t about the bones, but it is about the body.  If your father is tall and solid and your mother is short nd solid, you my darling, will break even in the middle and be solidly medium heighted.  And when I say solid I mean that a waif you will never be. 

 

There are diseases  and medications that bring on the ponds as well.  If you’re asthmatic, you’re going to gain weight more than likely because the meds are usually locked down with steroids.  If you’re diabetic you can either gain or lose poundage.

 

Someone’s mind-set is also a heavy contributor to the poundage, particularly if it is that they are stressed, personally or professionally.  This point is linked though to eating, because stress does make some of us eat, as does depression, anger and anxiety.

 

Our power to earn a decent wage puts us at risk for extra poundage as well.  The more we earn is the better that we can eat.  The lower our wages, the more difficult it is for us to buy the best, hence we fall victim to the mass produced, the fat saturated, the wonder and max sized meals .. basically the things that are moments on the lips and forever on our hips.

 

So we know what ails us.  Do we even take the time to check on what heals and helps us?  They ae in our hands, and at the end of our legs.  Our hands and feet.  Our hands are the instruments that put the food into our mouths and our feet are the things that get us moving.

 

We need to nourish our bodies … not just feed ourselves.  We need to get moving and not just move ourselves.  I’m not saying that we need to run a marathon every other weekend, but we need to get up off our tushes and shake them down the lane or around a park or savannah.  There are times when we don’t realize that we can be and have been our own worse enemies.  We complain about the aches and the pains when we move, but the irony is that the more we move, the less the pains become.

 

The other thing is that when we eat … really eat … we lose the pounds.  Our metabolisms are unable to become lazy when we eat the way we should..  we have become so used to the seesaw that is the diet life that we starve ourselves, not realizing that our bodies become so worried about us that they ‘lovingly’ store the fat in our bodies, just in case we decide not to eat again.  Again, our own faults.

 

You may be wondering why this rant on myself and my BBW sistahs.  It’s simple really.  A photograph was placed on our group wall the other day of a woman … a beautiful woman … with hips that measure more than 8 feet in circumference, and this is something of which she is proud.  If you look at this woman you can see that from her face to her shoulders to her bustline and waist, she is your average full figured woman.  Then there are the hips.  And then her legs go back to average.

 

There is no way on God’s green earth that you can tell me she’s healthy.  She spoke of the thousands photographs that have been taken of her, and the way that people stare at her when she walks down the road with her husband and family.  She speaks of exercising, but her children have to pull her out of her seat at home, and when she does ‘exercise’ she only moves her arms.  That has NOTHING to do with her girth.

 

It frightened me to look at this woman, and in my fear, I thought of all of us full figured women, many of us who believe that being comfortable with your body means sitting on our asses an doing nothing.  As someone who has battled back from 396 lbs about eight years ago to 228 now (And I ain’t done yet!!), I think I have the right to yell at any and all of us when we sit and stew in complacence.  THAT IS NOT AN OPTION.  Nobody says that you have to wafer thin in order to be sexy … particularly since REAL men know that there ain’t nothin wrong with meat on a REAL woman, and guys, you need to get up off your asses and motivate your woman.  What  am saying is that we need to be the best of ourselves  Love your curves, believe in your curves …  Get to steppin and do the work!

 

Okay … I’ve said a mouthful.

 

Please … I beg of you … let’s get started.  It’s for your own good!

16 DIFFERENT WAYS TO SUNDAY…

So here it is, I’m at the start again, and trying to make sense of this crazy lil thing hat shall remain nameless.

I know that people believe that they are being helpful. I know that they think that wisdom is the thing that I crave. What they don’t get is that the thing I need most is CONSISTENCY… and I need it in all things, particularly in things concerning MY HEART.

I’m constantly being told to turn myself around – as in reinvent myself. Everyone knows PRECISELY what’s right for me, and it’s all conflicting.

Be forthcoming … be mysterious; tell him what’s on your mind … don’t say anything; be shy … be bold…

WTF??! There’s only one of me; yet everyone is trying to break me into tiny little pieces. Am I really that naïve? Is it that the life I’ve led in the past forty-odd years has really left me so cloistered and unprepared for the world?

I don’t think that I’m seeking the impossible, and I don’t believe that I’m being unreasonable. I require very little to keep me happy … I want respect, trust, love, affection, honesty … consistency. I could demand these things, but I don’t. I TRUST that the man who wants to be with me will willingly give these things and give them abundantly.

It is still amazing for me to have to realize that as a WOMAN, I’m the one who has to bend myself 16 different ways to Sunday to please the male of the species. Question is, who is bending himself into knots and twists just to keep me happy? And is he going to do so willingly and be patient while I figure out what it is I really need?

Should you be strolling through town and you find one or more of these gems, would you kindly send him way? The fact is that I have found one of them … he just doesn’t know how wonderful he Is as yet … but he will! (Wink, wink)

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH

I am a Literature buff from a ways back. I’ve always loved the written word, and have since developed quite the love for the spoken word as well. Words are soothing to me…

One of the books that I studied at examination level in ‘High School’ was Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, and one of the lines that has been stuck in my head since then is “Beware the Ides of March!”

I remember having been particularly offended the first time I heard that line because of my understandable affinity for the month of March. It is after all the month of my birth … and while my birthday is nowhere near the 15th, I happen to be offended by any reference to ill-will that may occur in the beautiful month of March.

Ah, the innocence of youth. How I long for the days when bad news, disappointment and – well – disgust came as such a shock to your system that it could actually shut you down. Now the jadedness of perceived ‘seniority’ may make you ill at such occurrences but they generally roll off of one’s back like so much water.

I must confess that my own encounter with the Ides of March could not have been prepared for … but then again it could have been. I suppose that I am just overly sensitive right now … who knows. Prepared or not, it’s always a devastation when the people that one has held closest to one’s chest turns out to be the ones that literally stab us in the back.

There aren’t many people that have had the privilege to be let into my inner sanctum, but it looks like I’m going to have to pull a couple ‘membership cards’ from some of the people in there. What good is it when one attempts to build up resources and those same resources have no problem spitting you out on Idus Martiae (Latin, Ides of March). Others have said to me that I need to ‘let it go’, that that is the way that they would handle it. I do so solemnly wish that I could just dust off and press on. It is a little difficult when the individual involved has cut so close to the bone. My mother has this saying that she uses from time to time that says that it is always worse when you’re bitten by your own flea. Well that is precisely the way that I feel right now. Oh I know that I have to put on my big girl panties and deal with it, and believe me I will. Right now on the other hand, I need to take this time to reconstruct my ‘fortress’, as there seems to be some bricks that may need to be chipped away.

And like Caesar, I was warned … I had my own seer, but like Caesar, I ignored the warning. Now, again like Caesar, I am forced to turn and look at that brick and ask “Et tu Brute?!”

I find it all so unfortunate, ironic and just garden-variety wretched that in this world, it could be so hard to find like minded spirits to share ones inner self with …

What happened to honor … what happened to actual friendship, and support? Is it that most people have now come to the point of being friends through convenience, and as soon as they have achieved their own Zen and Xanadu, they then disavow the others who have to this point been there for them? Should that be the case then yet again I am forced to hold tight to what little faith I have left in our Humanity.

The good news is that I am approaching the end of my own tunnel, but theirs is still waiting in the wings … and in true Pisces form I will probably be there yelling that they beware there own Ides of March.

That’s the way that I’m made up … it is a part of me that I love – my ability to love others no matter what … and it is another object lesson to me along the way, and I have learnt from it to I am thankful, and I will be more thankful as soon as I reach around and pull the dagger out that had been so firmly SLAMMED into my spine!!!

“Joy Cometh in the Morning”, and I will be the better for it.

Once …

Once I wandered
In the Desert of
My own Lonely Heart …
Once I sat on the
Edge of the Lake
Of Sorrow and Tears
Convinced that there
Was nothing written
In the Book of
Happiness for me …

I made my peace
Longed no more for a piece
Of the Joy that I
Recognized in others

Then you appeared
On my horizon
With a Smile that
Inspired Laughter
And Laughter that
Brought the Dormant
To Life
You saw through me –
You saw ME.
You Heard me
And yet you Listened
You Dared me to
Take a Chance –
Just once …

I Wondered
I Meditated
I Procrastinated
And you Knew …
You Watched me
As I put my tow
Into the water – daring
To make a move –
Just once …

You made me Look
At myself through your eyes
And amazed I was
To see myself as
Beautiful and vibrant …
Sexy and sexual
A woman alive –
For once …

You are the Sun
In my Shine
You gave me what I needed
To peel away the shell
That ones protected my Heart, my Me
My Being

You’ve shared yourself with me
And let me do the same with you

I love you
Not for any particular reason
But for all the silly reasons
That make me love you more
I’ve named you and I claim you
You’ve been my past
You are my present …
The one that I’ll open
In the future …

The Star That Went Nova …

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On Tuesday morning I said goodbye to an era. I am also forced to admit now that I also said goodbye to a mentor.

Astra Da Costa wasn’t only a mentor for me; if many of the young women who worked under her tutelage are honest, they would also admit that she left many a mark on their lives. Yes, some of the marks were negative, but there were positive ones too.

I’ve always said that AMPLE was a hell of a training ground for me. I think I learnt most of what I know in that formerly beautiful white building at the corner of Grey Street and Tragarete Road (I never understood the need to paint that majestic white building Vomit Pink!)

I sat in the church on Tuesday and allowed my mind to travel back in time. I went back to meetings and conversations that I had inadvertently deemed unnecessary, and as I replayed some of these instances, I realized that in her rather indirect but direct way, (trust me, that makes sense … this is after all the woman who coined ‘hurry slowly’) Astra had left the seeds of social responsibility and the need to be a part of something bigger than self with me.

I guess – having destroyed many a draft since I began writing this – all I really want to say is Thank You Astra for sharing some of your knowledge with us, for molding us into the strong, opinionated, independent, caring, careful yet reckless women that we are today. I, for sure, have learnt to laugh at myself, to appreciate every stately curve that I own … not to mention that I have now perfected the art of power dressing!

We’ve learnt to appreciate the love of family and good friends. We have also learnt to appreciate every second of time gifted to us and allow us to joke that this is because we NEVER had any time while we labored at AMP’s … but we appreciate it nonetheless.

Rest well ADC, because you’ve earned it, and please, whatever you do, DO NOT attempt to tell God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit or St Peter how to do their jobs or how to make Heaven more efficient — It’s JUST NOT DONE! May I suggest some time in the choir loft??? You always did say that you missed singing.

Go with God, Auntie Astra!