I wonder. . . do you rest? What do you answer to that keeps you from rest? What makes rest feel like an obstacle? What makes rest feel like a bad habit? What is contributing to your idea about YOUR self care and WHY does it have such a strong hold on you? These are questions I have asked myself recently.

You see, the question became “ Do I trust the gift or do I trust expensive standards and posh norms?” It was also a matter of honoring the piles of intentions that were locked away and packed too tightly for me to be focused on giving a living account of them. . . Time is moving. Give the gift you have in the way that you want to give it.

I dedicate this first, full, official teaching effort from this concluded first-year at a new school, to my great aunt. Thank you Auntie.

In this environment I learned to dream and fantasize. In the evenings I would watch the birds fly over head and imagine they were students on their way home from school and that I had been their teacher. -Minnie Lee Holmes Bradwell

All year long, i’ve been talking about catching a vibe this summer. Ha! The universe was like, “aite, bet!” and there I was in South GA, whimpering in the pasture like a devastated child. The category is vibes and the answer is “HEAL.” I didn’t go out of the country, or to a festival, and I damn sure didn’t procure a summer body. So y’all won all that for yourselves. Congrats. Whatever came with summer, I missed it. (I mean, caught the last 5 minutes of Pride but time FLEW!) I did heal though and I suppose there is more to do.

“Anxiety does not rule today. I’m having fun today I’m gonna live today. And I am going to be my best self and meet sweet people I’m going to dance today and I will not let anything break my soul and I will not let anything distract me from the beautiful day that is before me because I will never ever get it back.” I mumbled these sentiments repeatedly in one way or another before parking. .

Our creativity is fueling more than likes and shares on instagram feeds; it’s guaranteeing us safe passage as we navigate the rocky terrain. Artists -performance, visual, problem solvers, and spoken artists- urge the human race forward. Don’t knock the incessant downloads of ideas- those little things manifest and help you to lead with a clarity with which only artists take move.

I speak of the ones who have been holding on to that one ballon walking through the battlefield. I speak of the ones clutching their seed tightly in the palms of their hands, holding their dreams -refusing to believe that any of this is all there really is.

Feeding on a million stories, nourished by a million possibilities. I’ve been dancing with poets and artists, making new friends, reclaiming the time that has been redeemed. It feels right. It feels just.

When has creating ever been something to clock into? And the heaviness? Well, in stillness, it came to me. I have been dragging unfinished and unmet ideas and goals into the start of each new week since I was in high school.

I feel it may be love calling to me. Inviting me to be centered and stop trying to balance it all. It reminds me to simplify. It reminds me to let go of what i’m clenching and trust. Trust love and no one else-except they be a vessel of love. To cry and quit and agonize freely in its presence and then be reborn.

I want to be operating at max potential-not max pressure, but max potential. I know what dormancy feels like. It is unsettling and quite unbearable. . . moldy lethargy, breathless. Dr. Angelou said “the deepest agony bearing an untold story inside yourself.” I have to tell it-not because I need relief, but because it is who I am and I am who I am because of what is expressing itself through me.

Our days have been bogged down with world tragedy, harmful rhetoric, sad news, devastating loss and broken bonds with loved ones, and dodging the fast paced world of social media and come ups and icky rat race stuff. But there was a light waiting for me. A wish for me-not to me, but for me. Something I wanted. Something I needed. And grabbed it. It was like catching a butterfly. And it made me feel seen and it made me grow tall.

At times, I question daily my undertakings and how I undertook them. I wonder if I might be better off living in another country and leaving these stark shifts behind. The thing is, I have been thinking they are what tie me to my liberation. But liberation cannot be bound and the pursuit of it is a charge I hope to keep.

I don’t have to live in fear of it going up in flames. It’s not a fluke! This is real life in real time. And I can share without fear of impending doom.

I learned how easy it is to fall out of people’s good graces-especially when you stop submitting to their idea of you. And somehow, I found it vital to just be loved. I am learning that living life from this conviction is radically refreshing.