Updated: Mar 20
Peace to the folk. I'll admit, my energy is off. My daughter is having a bit of difficulty with bullying at her school right now, and it's all I can think about. She's amazing, got accepted to every college she applied to. She chose LSU. Geux, Tigers! (I hope I'm saying that right. She'd kill me.). She's here with me now, fresh from an incident at school where she felt unsafe. All I want to do is make sure she's ok, console her, BE "dad".
Unfortunately, life won't allow me to JUST be dad. It makes no such allowance for any of us in that way, which is why we all must find ways to manage our wellness through whatever comes. It just so happens that writing is a tool I use, it brings me calm, so if we venture no farther than these words meeting your eyes, thank you for the room to express. It helped. It centered my wellness. Cooking is also a wellness measure of mine. Thinking about spices and how they blend and will taste together is as peaceful as anything you can imagine, for me. There is a hint of aroma in the air as I write this. I consider myself fortunate to be aware of when my wellness is being threatened, and even more so that I can do something about it. What happens to those who have yet to find this place?
Before the immediacy of what was happening with my daughter consumed me, I was going to describe a moment of watching my mother talk to my youngest brother, which actually inspired this extended thought about stress. No need to add "color" here other than the color green, as in "The Incredible Hulk" smash! My mother went from this upbeat, cheerful woman conversing with me about everything (you know how mothers do) to a downright punitive, angry woman within seconds, just based on my brother entering the room. "This can't be good", I thought, for either of them. He lives here, so this exchange is likely THE exchange between them because, again, all he did was walk in the room. The level of vitriol levied his way, the speed in which it occurred, and the sheer elevation of it can not be healthy. I actually had to exit, as it was having an affect on me.
As I drove off, I was wondering what's happening inside my mother's body as she's in that state. The obvious is stress and its effect on a person, but I'd like to know what's actually happening physiologically and psychologically to her-to both my mother and brother, in fact. Shit, and my daughter and myself, for that matter. I spent some time checking on it. Learned. It's a conversation, we'll discuss at this space soon for sure...
I called my mother later that evening to discuss with her how I felt about the situation, and to also offer a bit of empathy, having had my own run ins with my brother in the past. I know her plight well. I too used to grow angry upon just sight of him. We're good now, but it took a while. I was able to separate myself from him and let go of what I was holding against him, recognizing that it's really just affecting me. I don't anticipate being able to make that same point to a mother about her child, but a child who loves a mother has a position as well. Uncomfortable as it was to witness, it drew something out of me. Inspiration doesn't care, it comes when it comes. Wow.
"Wellness" is a sustained journey with a perpetual reward, it's also fragile. In keeping, we'll revisit from time to time, if for no other reason than to check on one another's "Black Wellness". Bubblin Brown Sugar... Say it loud... Brown Skin...
I appreciate your time. One Love
Signed, Health and Wealth
*Smirk the World