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I'm a mother of two wonderful sons, a divorced 44 yr. Old farm girl
from Ark (Near Memphis) transplanted to the glare of big city lights
of LA as a teenager and have been blazing down the fast lane ever
since!
Born to a Dutch & Irish Mother, a Cherokee Father, but raised by the
most beautiful, strongest African American Lady I've ever met.
Our Lil farm community truly was a village, although not protected
from prejudices or disgrace. My Daddy was a Liberal, but spawn a
Radical, who still to this day seeks the TRUTH from anyone I
encounter.
I began writing at 9 yrs old with the encouragement of my 3rd grade
teacher, Mrs. Mary Jones, who just happened to be my first Black
teacher after our school was integrated. Instead of being impatient
with my endless questions and debating right and wrong, she set me
on a course of self discovery that has never ended. She remained a
part of my circle until her death some 22 yrs later. To this day, I
can hear her advise and admonishing, to NEVER ACCEPT anything just
because I'm told to, or hear or read it, but to always strive to
find a BETTER UNDERSTANDING of it.
An Angel in Disguise is my best description of her. She certainly
earned her wings here on earth for sure!
I reside in So. California in one of the wealthiest counties and
struggle daily to understand the poverty and inequalities I see down
my street. I've come to realize one thing for sure, though... I can
make a difference, in the smallest of ways, one smile, one hug, one
word, one meal at a time.
Mine is not an easy journey ... But so far, my circle has been made
warmer by quilt of many colors, fabrics and woven with the golden
thread of LOVE.
Chameleons
Those of you that
know me at all, know by now that I am a Realist. OK, maybe a
Romantic Realist, but my feet are firmly planted in what is
real, what I see and feel from people, not so much what I hear
come from them.
I give people the
benefit of showing me what they are about, who they ARE, before
passing judgment on them, or assigning any label to them. (He's
honest and reliable, She's shallow and full of self-serving
ego.) I really believe MOST of us have aspirations to live
honestly, with no shame in our game, that we approach every
aspect of life with the same face, everyday.
It isn't always
easy to be honest, with each other or even with ourselves! Some
people go through life never knowing WHO they really are! They
care way too much about other people's opinion of them, trying
to fit into someone else's mold or version of who they think
they should be. That's where they trip themselves up!
They find
themselves not only telling lies, but LIVING their own lies!
Creating so much emotional turmoil that they think they've
escaped what is even a greater turmoil going on internally for
them.
I call these people
Chameleons. They change personalities as quickly as they can
change clothes! Sadly though, they never fit in anywhere,
because they are TOO adaptable! They can't face their own
reality, so they create another and yet another as they go
along, thinking that they are fooling everyone around them, as
they've fooled themselves!
We humans are an
imperfect species, flawed and discontented to the point that
there are mutli-million dollar industries out there to FIX most
of our physical flaws. Let me tell ya'll though, no implants, no
hair piece, no fake tanning, no amount of cosmetic surgery can
help you find who YOU really are. That is an inherit, inborn and
irrevocable gift that comes from our Creator! To get there, to
find that, we have to be honest with ourselves.
Most of our
suffering comes from the falsehood and turmoil we create for
ourselves when we refuse to HONESTLY look at ourselves! There
isn't any big secret to doing this; YOU are what you are, WHO
you are and no matter how different you make yourself appear on
the outside, you still come home in the skin your in and wake up
with WHO you really are! Try looking at yourself honestly. The
habit of honesty, once formed, is harder to break than the habit
of lying. It sure makes life easier for you and anyone in your
life, believe me!
Life is too short
for needless games. The best thing for us is to know our on
hearts, our beliefs, to go about our day without falsehood or
shame, not trying to show people that you are one thing, while
God forbid, in REALITY you are another!
My own humble goal
in life is a simple one, feel free to borrow it, adapt it to fit
your own life as needed...
I will be honest
with myself and those I allow in my life. I will applaud my good
qualities and face my flaws with the courage to either accept or
change them. I will be at peace with who I truly am. My
relationships will be stronger because they are based on
HONESTY.
If this motivates
or encourages only ONE person to do some inner Soul searching,
my message has not been lost!
Namast'e,
© 2000
Angelia Jackson-Steward
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of Contents]
SISTERS
(Acrostic)
Souls uniting, joining hands and words
for a common cause
Intriguing women
who share much more than men-o-pause
Spiritual beings,
from all walks of life
Teachers, nurses,
wife or midwife
Eccentric or
perhaps very simplistic
Regardless of
color, helping each other stay realistic
Sensual, sexy,
smart and none past their prime...
The Lost Sisterhood, Found at
Last...again; in this Lifetime!
© 03/23/04 Angelia
Jackson-Steward
[Table
of Contents]
Soul Sisters
We are not sisters by blood,
Not born to the same parents,
Yet born of the same sensibilities,
Desires, vision and dreams.
Raised in different parts of the world,
Taught different beliefs and rituals,
Yet so like-minded in Spirit.
You are my Spirit Sister,
Soul Sisters by CHOICE!
Our hearts and minds draw us
Our Spirits bring us closer still to each other.
You share with me your fears, fantasies, your passions,
Ever trustful, I share mine with you.
Confident that my secrets, insecurities and dreams
My deepest thoughts are forever safe.
Locked away in your heart,
Prayed upon and mutually wished for.
We've become lifelines to one another,
Sometimes clinging precariously to the thread
That protects us from the cruelties of reality.
Reach out to me, I will catch you.
I will be with you when you need me
Ever cognizant that you are my safety net,
my port in any storm life throws me.
How can I ever repay you, my Sister,
For all the hours you listened to my Blues?
You are my ally in the vestiges of love and war
A place I go to where I know I will be safe from reproach.
Wrapped within the warmth of our Sisterhood.
Thank you, for helping me mend.
©2004 Angelia Jackson-Steward
[Table
of Contents]
A Dream
Interpreted
OK, here we go...moving in a reverse trajectory. Walking right
through the mind's screen door, back into the would-be future, past
all those failed versions of yourself. Down through the years. A
wind kicked up by some passing thought, or maybe an old tune picked
up from a passing car, throwing you off, setting off a chain
reaction. A page flipping frenzy through the family album ... these
ARE the times of your Life.
Backup to that one moment when you made the wrong decision. The One
that led to every other decision you've made since … not all wrong
in themselves, but tainted by their origins.
Maybe you even pulled off that version of happiness they keep
hawking down at the mall ... the Hubby and Kids routine. Blue Jean
skirts on casual Fridays ... rushing home for dinner, monthly PTA
meetings, basketball, water polo, and Little League games. Seemingly
happy Sundays spent driving in the SUV, scanning the bookstores for
the bestseller lists, quoting those self-help books and searching
health food stores for healing herbs.
Knowing the department store manager by name. Hey Joe, I need a new
pair of shoes, you know my size & color. Susan, the hairdresser that
becomes part of your extended family, exchanging not only each
other's talents, but homemade jam in the summer, gifts at Christmas
and hugs in times of need. Why do you attract and hold people like
that? Why not?
That 'coulda been somebody' Saga. Living on the other side of the
curtain. In the limelight. The Good Life. In with the in-crowd.
Plenty of backslapping and nicknames to go around. Down at the club,
all those velvet ropes opening at your arrival. You're not the Star
… but a LIGHT among the Stars. Where does that Light come from, and
what makes it as attractive as neon on a dark desert road? Just what
happened to diminish that Light? Where are those dreams and promises
you made to yourself? Like a broken-winged bird, do you dare sit and
watch life simply go by?
Who knows?
Why didn't those happily ever-after shoes fit? Just couldn't fill
them, no matter how you tried. And HOW you tried! You seem to have
given up on having it AT all, let alone having it ALL! So finally,
here you are … slipping into your hiking boots and being led astray.
Across the years and many miles, through bean fields, wooded trails
and past the bullet-ridden pickup parked on the side of edge of a
dirt river road. Rusted over ... but not the memory held within. It
is as real, just as shiny and scary as the first minute you heard.
Another haunting memory added to a family already haunted.
Your carefree, sweet-spirited little brother hugs his Mama good-bye.
Leaving with two other youngsters just wanting to have a good time,
get a little something for free, take from them before they take it
from you. Never thinking of the dangers, or that one of them would
never make it home again. The possibility of never seeing daylight
again, never entering their minds. No big deal. He'll just slip in
during the morning rush … pancakes, bacon and eggs. Sneak up and
give his Mama a huge kiss, a lousy excuse followed by a sly smile
she could never resist. It would be OK, wouldn't it? Daddy would
surely understand ... boys just want to have fun too.
Fast-forward hours later, the crisp autumn night has turned not only
cold, but also bizarre. This haunted family will never feel the
warmth of his hug or smile again. Gripped with the force of tragedy,
you need details for whatever reasons.
Just beneath the surface of the water ... on the other side of
midnight. Did he hear the sirens and police cars pulling up close to
him? Why did he stay hidden, just below the darkness and depth of
the night? Did he think it was useless to reason with overactive
lawmen, bored with their usual mundane weeknight shifts? Determined
to catch and bring to justice three hoodlum teenagers out on a
joyride? No matter the cost?
Lord, was he calmly asleep in those turbulent muddy waters, when his
buddies frantically abandoned him there? Or so afraid the Southern
Keystone cops taking target practice with the truck in the field
would continue shooting should he dare surface? Emptying those
chambers and skidding away, rushing off on their journey of a search
well done; though unsuccessful. No harm done.
Did they sleep that night? The next? Have they slept since? Phone
calls and headlines waking us all that next morning. Local High
School senior found sleeping in the water... The screen door
slamming shut on a future. God make us understand THIS lesson! A
family falls victim to grief, a Daddy's strength evaporates into
tears while catching a Mama's dying Spirit. The senseless waste of a
youthful life overwhelms the heart, and rips the seams from the
belief in To Protect and To Serve.
The family album slips from your fingers. The song simply fades
away. Finding yourself safely within your skin, in this year that
you had always wondered if you'd see. Catching your reflection in a
puddle of water gathered after a rain, you can hardly bare to look.
Tilting your head in the shower, the water rushing down your face,
will forever remind you of how he may have felt. Wonder if he
relaxed and pretended the water was a cool bath? Wonder if he saw
the Light before dozing for the last time?
Face to face with death, I bet he was not brave at all, but humbled.
Letting go of his last thoughts, I bet it was of US. His
family...some that never knew his dreams, or cared what may have
become of them. I bet he surrendered to his Angel with a sigh of
recognition and his sly, knowing grin ... and said: Oh yeah … hey, I
know YOU! Well, OK, let's get going then. Let's rock and roll!
The Light becoming so much brighter as he went.
Scotty, my rambunctious little brotha! Darlin' thanks for visiting
my sleep last night and for the messages you delivered. They will
not be ignored or remain untold.
For my baby brother Scott...RIP 2-8-64 / 9-20-82. You'll always be
the leader of the pack, my 'lil man!
© 2000 Angelia Jackson-Steward
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