Just returning from a weekend getaway, before I check an email or Facebook or even my bank account balances, I need to get things off my chest. Actually, I need to get things off my chest more often than not lately, nonetheless I have not been doing so (as evident by my 54 day absence) and that does not serve anybody well – nobody. When I decided to relocate, I was not just leaving my job. I left my life. I left my family. I left my friends. I left my mental health care professional. I left my physicians. I left my yoga teachers and yogis of color. I left my I left my ‘hood, my city. I left my alumni association. I left my comforts. I left the infinite, immeasurable systems that support me as a woman and person of color.

As life and its lessons would have it, we sometimes have to leave things behind us to see what is in front of us. To discover what we are made of and what things our life holds for us if we have the courage to move outside of our comfort zones. To negate the “what are you running away from” instead to “what am I running towards”.

This is not what I imagined, not even what I thought. It is not my Atlanta experience, depression – but it ain’t Chicago either. Chicago is turning out to be a lover I admired from afar too long, finally got the courage to make the moves, and then got tired of waiting for a commitment . . . I digress. And in the midst of the disappointment. instead of working out/taking my supplements/eating clean, I am stressing out (and stress eating – crap). Instead of blogging, I am silenced, feeling as if what I want to or may say would have repercussions. Instead of emotional release in creating art, my energies are drained to the point of exhaustion and wasted time. Instead of practicing my magick, I am forgetting my way.

Excuse after excuse after excuses to the point where I am doing nearly nothing in my best interest. However after this weekend, I realize 19 months is a long ass time to suffer in silence and not in my best interest. Rather than wait until two weeks from now for my detox vacation, I am starting now and letting all that shit go. I do not recall ever apologizing for being myself, so no time for that kind of bullshittery now. No more waiting until or for this and that. If I am going to be up late nights or losing sleep or waking early, it needs to be to write or read or conjure or create or release.

My mom says you always have a plan A, B, C, D . . .

Not only survive this next 19 months, but nineteen months from now I had better have a damn good reason for why I decided to get away.


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