Musical guides:
Lizz Wright's "Salt"
Outside's "the rough and the smooth"
Ephraim Lewis' "Skin"
Cassandra Wilson's "Glamoured"
& Swing Out Sister's "The Living Return"
mood magic:
sage
candlelight only
pen and journal
a place that feels like home
______________________________________
spirit moved me to write this:
last minutes of 2005
overwhelmed by the gift of life
so much that
this may be the least
i have written
about a year so full
life, like jazz
is improvisational
best when we have faith
that our rhythm is guided
by God's grace
by the well-wishes of ancestors
by stubborn belief
in things not seen
i am experiencing
love so fully
i question my comprehension of it
in the years before
i am healthy
and have reason to believe
i will always be
i love that my family
struggles to love me
as unconditionally
as i've only known
to love them
the seeds of prosperity are planted
for the home I will build
for me and mine
i know i can be more courageous
less insecure
live more joyously
shimmy to life's dance
eyes closed and assured
tomorrow will hold me better
than today
i can challenge spaces of fear
so fiercely
that any weapon formed against me
cowers against the fullness
of my shine
this time
there are no explanations
no predictions or claims
just the certainty
that i am loved
that i am love
that i love
that i am
regenerating more of whatever
is the essence of God
in me
i am already allright
will offer more praise
for blessings believed
and even those
not yet received
years removed from any clamour
that i am unworthy
of even the simple joy
of a next breath
i exhale a smile,
my next lullaby,
faith in my loving
the man i have chosen to love
and who patiently loves me
(and well)
i am thankful
for friendships that do not crumble
under the pressure of time
or the wait of distance
so i sing
O Happy Day
and write of
O Dreams no longer deferred
and feel
O what a blessing it is
2 B
2 Believe
2 B Believing in Living
these first minutes of 2006
and then some
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Affection: Too little, Too much?
I grew up in a huge family where, each night, my mother insisted that we give kisses, huggs, and tell each other "I love you". 8 siblings, 17 years, each night.... you do the math. It was more than easy most of the time; effortless when the huggs and warm words come like next breaths. I suppose my mother knew we'd need all this "gushiness" given the economic, social, and psychological barriers to growing up healthy, functional black children in the rural South.
My parents were very affectionate.... when they were (together). Juxtaposed to the bouts of domestic violence we witnessed as often as the slow-dancing or holding, i suppose the warmth witnessed was all the more cherished. I suppose seeing this planted some expectation in lil Tim'm's mind about how things should or shouldn't be.
I remember leaving home for college. the seeming absence of baby bruh or sis "needing" me, feeling comforted and more safe because of me, was emotionally devastating. I sought out ways to fill the void. The best instances of which were endearing friendships with people who became adopted family, given the physical (and sometimes emotional) distance from my own. But there was another side to that affection that, once explored, would lead to even greater complications. The first kiss, the first time that I held someone's hand, the first time I cuddled, it seemed to surpass even the safety i felt from my family in that house off the dirt road in Arkansas. It was the sweetest symbolic gesture and then some.
I suppose it didn't so much matter that the person really loved me or not. I brought a whole range of feelings TO that (e)motion of spooning, cuddling, caressing, and yes, sex. And this is where things get murky: sorting out the distinction between the sign and the signified, the act of affection and the love it represents, is a task that I think i'm still grappling with.
At best, sometimes I provide myself that warmth (I love pillows), or am able meet needs for affection through platonic friends or a special someone. Admittedly, there's something about being a teacher-- about knowing that more than a few students each day will extend arms for a hugg or tell you that they love and appreciate you-- that I like having access to (trust me... I'm probably EXTRA-cautious about THAT boundary). But there's something terribly disturbing to me lately about the "need" for it. When I don't feel I'm getting enough affection in my life, my self-esteem and self-image suffer. So in truth, the affection I experienced as a child has haunted me as both a blessing and a curse.
So at worst, I've invited people to hold me who didn't have the best intentions, or who didn't have intentions at all beyond filling some unidentified void of their own. At worst I've been sexual with people when all I really wanted was to hold someone or be held-- the sense of emotional safety. I figured that sometimes sex was the means to the end. Maybe I saw the cuddle as my reward for being a sexual stud. But I'm older and a bit more self-critical now. I have few issues with saying that it's (only) affection that i desire. But something's got me all stuck on stuck about it-- feeling like a punk or that i'll come across as too needy if I want a hugg that lasts for more than a few seconds.
There's this woman at my job who gives the best huggs; so much that they make me a little uncomfortable. She huggs me and stays and humms... and I really feel the sincerity of it. She makes me miss my mother, and I suppose that's why it bothers me. I'd like to have huggs like that in my life on the daily. Is that being too needy? Should I request them? Is that asking too much?
My dad, interestingly, is more gushy than my mom. He was the pinacle of masculinity for me, and yet so warm and affectionate. I think I'm a lot like him. A punk who gets punked by his own desire for affection. I'd like to learn to be okay with my inheritance, understanding that it requires different things from me depending on the people I'm with. However, I don't like that I've become fearful of asking for it, offering it, even needing it.
A few more considerations:
Should all affection be purposeful? Should it mean something? And what is too much or too little? Is it okay to ask for it? And if you really have to ask for it, then is it "pure"?
I wonder about this as I encounter people in my life, with perhaps different family histories around affection. What is the relationship between what we grow up seeing/experiencing and what we come to expect as adults, especially in our friendships and intimate relationships. When do our own expectations to duplicate what we are accustomed to become selfish and inconsiderate? Or is it about finding people with the same affection-orientation? Personally, I have friends on both sides of the spectrum. I can't say I value the gushy friends more than the anti-cupids.
When my homie Cenzo lived with me, we cared for his two cats. Inky was gushy and cuddled with me while watching basketball or crawled in the bed at night. Ms. Gorgeous was feline queen of the anti-cupids. Yet, when I couldn't find Ms. G around the house, I was as worried as if it were Inky. Gushy wasn't her style. Over time, I came to appreciate how she showed affection: feed her, spank her, a slight touch there, leave her alone (repeat cycle every few hours). LOL. But I think some people are like that. I try not to pity them. LOL
I've been more affectionate than most of the male partners I've had, as affectionate as most of the female partners. I've never felt the need for affection when with women, whereas I always feel I (can) never get enough with guys. Is it a gender thing? Does affection make men feel too vulnerable? Maybe I just haven't dated the non-affectionate women.
The beauty of affection for me is that you CAN feel vulnerable and there's the TRUST and SECURITY that the one who holds, huggs, kisses you.... is really holding it down... they've got your back. And there are times when I shouldn't need that to feel emotionally safe. There are other times when I feel I am lacking far too much of that-- that I've become a wimp to my fear of needing what may, perhaps, be a healthy, daily dose of affection-substance. I am fearful of admitting that I sleep better with it, I wake up better with it, and go about my day stronger with it. And it's not just through the touching, but the sentiment that words can carry: the tone, the inflection, the gestures that complement... can be sunshine where there's little light otherwise.
so what now? I suppose I'm trying to find balance. I'm learning to find affection in ways that I don't traditionally recognize. Sometimes the eyes or the frequency of calls is someone else's equivalent to my huggs and kisses. My current "special-someone" makes me laugh alot, whereas my sense of humor is kinda....well.... of the dry, sarcastic, witty sort. Humor is the glue, I feel, that keeps us most happy, healthy, and optimistic about what we're exploring. I hope to experience a lot more of that. When we're not finding ways to laugh, things are usually tense, dull, unhealthy.
I'm learning to accept that some of the people who've loved me most may not have been the most affectionate... and that maybe I have to open up to seeing things differently, even as I articulate my desire for more physicality and warmth. Yes.... I'm King Tim'm from the land of GUSH. But I'd like to think that there's some space between the "touchy-feelies" and the "anti-cupids" that's a nice happy medium. Finding that balance is what requires communication: finding the courage to explore our affection histories, where we feel they are connected to how we feel about affecton in the present. I'd like to become more comfortable saying what is too little affection for me, and accepting what may be too much for someone else. (And I'm admittedly biased: "too-much affection" sounds like an oxymoron).
and all this "soapboxing" because I hugged a student and her mother today, and wondered if, over these holidays and away from blood-family, I'd have to wait until January to get as gracious an embrace again... the kind offered to me... hands extended... knowing I'll stay, fall into it, enjoy it for more than a few seconds. You know the kind?! Gushy.... like we gushy people like it.
My parents were very affectionate.... when they were (together). Juxtaposed to the bouts of domestic violence we witnessed as often as the slow-dancing or holding, i suppose the warmth witnessed was all the more cherished. I suppose seeing this planted some expectation in lil Tim'm's mind about how things should or shouldn't be.
I remember leaving home for college. the seeming absence of baby bruh or sis "needing" me, feeling comforted and more safe because of me, was emotionally devastating. I sought out ways to fill the void. The best instances of which were endearing friendships with people who became adopted family, given the physical (and sometimes emotional) distance from my own. But there was another side to that affection that, once explored, would lead to even greater complications. The first kiss, the first time that I held someone's hand, the first time I cuddled, it seemed to surpass even the safety i felt from my family in that house off the dirt road in Arkansas. It was the sweetest symbolic gesture and then some.
I suppose it didn't so much matter that the person really loved me or not. I brought a whole range of feelings TO that (e)motion of spooning, cuddling, caressing, and yes, sex. And this is where things get murky: sorting out the distinction between the sign and the signified, the act of affection and the love it represents, is a task that I think i'm still grappling with.
At best, sometimes I provide myself that warmth (I love pillows), or am able meet needs for affection through platonic friends or a special someone. Admittedly, there's something about being a teacher-- about knowing that more than a few students each day will extend arms for a hugg or tell you that they love and appreciate you-- that I like having access to (trust me... I'm probably EXTRA-cautious about THAT boundary). But there's something terribly disturbing to me lately about the "need" for it. When I don't feel I'm getting enough affection in my life, my self-esteem and self-image suffer. So in truth, the affection I experienced as a child has haunted me as both a blessing and a curse.
So at worst, I've invited people to hold me who didn't have the best intentions, or who didn't have intentions at all beyond filling some unidentified void of their own. At worst I've been sexual with people when all I really wanted was to hold someone or be held-- the sense of emotional safety. I figured that sometimes sex was the means to the end. Maybe I saw the cuddle as my reward for being a sexual stud. But I'm older and a bit more self-critical now. I have few issues with saying that it's (only) affection that i desire. But something's got me all stuck on stuck about it-- feeling like a punk or that i'll come across as too needy if I want a hugg that lasts for more than a few seconds.
There's this woman at my job who gives the best huggs; so much that they make me a little uncomfortable. She huggs me and stays and humms... and I really feel the sincerity of it. She makes me miss my mother, and I suppose that's why it bothers me. I'd like to have huggs like that in my life on the daily. Is that being too needy? Should I request them? Is that asking too much?
My dad, interestingly, is more gushy than my mom. He was the pinacle of masculinity for me, and yet so warm and affectionate. I think I'm a lot like him. A punk who gets punked by his own desire for affection. I'd like to learn to be okay with my inheritance, understanding that it requires different things from me depending on the people I'm with. However, I don't like that I've become fearful of asking for it, offering it, even needing it.
A few more considerations:
Should all affection be purposeful? Should it mean something? And what is too much or too little? Is it okay to ask for it? And if you really have to ask for it, then is it "pure"?
I wonder about this as I encounter people in my life, with perhaps different family histories around affection. What is the relationship between what we grow up seeing/experiencing and what we come to expect as adults, especially in our friendships and intimate relationships. When do our own expectations to duplicate what we are accustomed to become selfish and inconsiderate? Or is it about finding people with the same affection-orientation? Personally, I have friends on both sides of the spectrum. I can't say I value the gushy friends more than the anti-cupids.
When my homie Cenzo lived with me, we cared for his two cats. Inky was gushy and cuddled with me while watching basketball or crawled in the bed at night. Ms. Gorgeous was feline queen of the anti-cupids. Yet, when I couldn't find Ms. G around the house, I was as worried as if it were Inky. Gushy wasn't her style. Over time, I came to appreciate how she showed affection: feed her, spank her, a slight touch there, leave her alone (repeat cycle every few hours). LOL. But I think some people are like that. I try not to pity them. LOL
I've been more affectionate than most of the male partners I've had, as affectionate as most of the female partners. I've never felt the need for affection when with women, whereas I always feel I (can) never get enough with guys. Is it a gender thing? Does affection make men feel too vulnerable? Maybe I just haven't dated the non-affectionate women.
The beauty of affection for me is that you CAN feel vulnerable and there's the TRUST and SECURITY that the one who holds, huggs, kisses you.... is really holding it down... they've got your back. And there are times when I shouldn't need that to feel emotionally safe. There are other times when I feel I am lacking far too much of that-- that I've become a wimp to my fear of needing what may, perhaps, be a healthy, daily dose of affection-substance. I am fearful of admitting that I sleep better with it, I wake up better with it, and go about my day stronger with it. And it's not just through the touching, but the sentiment that words can carry: the tone, the inflection, the gestures that complement... can be sunshine where there's little light otherwise.
so what now? I suppose I'm trying to find balance. I'm learning to find affection in ways that I don't traditionally recognize. Sometimes the eyes or the frequency of calls is someone else's equivalent to my huggs and kisses. My current "special-someone" makes me laugh alot, whereas my sense of humor is kinda....well.... of the dry, sarcastic, witty sort. Humor is the glue, I feel, that keeps us most happy, healthy, and optimistic about what we're exploring. I hope to experience a lot more of that. When we're not finding ways to laugh, things are usually tense, dull, unhealthy.
I'm learning to accept that some of the people who've loved me most may not have been the most affectionate... and that maybe I have to open up to seeing things differently, even as I articulate my desire for more physicality and warmth. Yes.... I'm King Tim'm from the land of GUSH. But I'd like to think that there's some space between the "touchy-feelies" and the "anti-cupids" that's a nice happy medium. Finding that balance is what requires communication: finding the courage to explore our affection histories, where we feel they are connected to how we feel about affecton in the present. I'd like to become more comfortable saying what is too little affection for me, and accepting what may be too much for someone else. (And I'm admittedly biased: "too-much affection" sounds like an oxymoron).
and all this "soapboxing" because I hugged a student and her mother today, and wondered if, over these holidays and away from blood-family, I'd have to wait until January to get as gracious an embrace again... the kind offered to me... hands extended... knowing I'll stay, fall into it, enjoy it for more than a few seconds. You know the kind?! Gushy.... like we gushy people like it.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Out the Box in New Jersey!!!
Had an amazingly intense show at the New Jersey Pride Center! Thanks for all who came out to support and show love; and for a special friend who accompanied me on the journey ;-)
There should be an audio recording of the show available of the set really soon. Among the great things that came out of the experience was a few new writings. It's always great to be inspired.
Out the Box
(for Pandora Scooter and my Jersey crew)
i like jewish jokes
(even when I don't quite get them)
i like spaces where white girls
pay homage to Ntozake
where talkers spit on open mics
to get open
where sirens equipped with sound systems
prepare me for the lullaby
the next full moon will echo
i like O.Gs who tell jokes
with the effortlessness
of grandpas greying eyes
i like places that help me feel alive
that make me write love poems
inspired by the breath between
one solstice
and another.
i like the shift of guitar riffs
the humm of acoustic strums
and i like thinking
i have produced, witnessed
the unduplicatable moment
the perfect day
made it permanent
because i dare to dream
ink on page
cuddle my pen
write a poem out the box
to feel the space.
There should be an audio recording of the show available of the set really soon. Among the great things that came out of the experience was a few new writings. It's always great to be inspired.
Out the Box
(for Pandora Scooter and my Jersey crew)
i like jewish jokes
(even when I don't quite get them)
i like spaces where white girls
pay homage to Ntozake
where talkers spit on open mics
to get open
where sirens equipped with sound systems
prepare me for the lullaby
the next full moon will echo
i like O.Gs who tell jokes
with the effortlessness
of grandpas greying eyes
i like places that help me feel alive
that make me write love poems
inspired by the breath between
one solstice
and another.
i like the shift of guitar riffs
the humm of acoustic strums
and i like thinking
i have produced, witnessed
the unduplicatable moment
the perfect day
made it permanent
because i dare to dream
ink on page
cuddle my pen
write a poem out the box
to feel the space.
Friday, December 09, 2005
A Year on DC's FRONT PORCH!
Thanks for supporting the 1st Anniversary of the Front Porch on December 1st (World AIDS Day) held at Busboys and Poets in DC. Stay tuned for news about our new home!!!
December 2004 - June 2005: Mocha Lounge, WDC
July 2005 - November 2005: Cafe Mawonaj, WDC
December 2005 (Anniversary Show): Busboys and Poets, WDC
Next? (We are looking for a place to call home).
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
wasted words?
(something for blog zealots to ponder)
i don't blog everyday.
people say update. update. update.
(they reiterate reiteration)
i say:
words are like minutes,
like last seconds
if you've ever lived like you were dying
you'd want every word
like the minutes or seconds
to matter
to be substantive
weighty
stick to people's ribs
sneak in their blood-memory
hold meaning
like lovers that find their reflection
in a spoon
so I could chat about coaching basketball
or how tired I am after teaching 14 year olds all day
or how much I love waking up to do it again
or the bills I have to postpone
or how I feel I will not have these money woes for long
or why i don't have scrilla to publish my next book
or the updates on the (amazing) love I'm pursuing
or the lessons I'm learning for the first time because I'm learning patience
or how I sometimes think about finishing my Ph.D. (but remember why I'm not)
or what pisses me off about conservatives (or liberals)
or why I miss my family, but feel a need to have distance with them at present
or the next or
but I choose to share
me
when spirit calls me to
share me
when i feel the words
come forth unforced
like minutes or seconds
that remind
I gots time
not to waste time
or words.
feel me?
i don't blog everyday.
people say update. update. update.
(they reiterate reiteration)
i say:
words are like minutes,
like last seconds
if you've ever lived like you were dying
you'd want every word
like the minutes or seconds
to matter
to be substantive
weighty
stick to people's ribs
sneak in their blood-memory
hold meaning
like lovers that find their reflection
in a spoon
so I could chat about coaching basketball
or how tired I am after teaching 14 year olds all day
or how much I love waking up to do it again
or the bills I have to postpone
or how I feel I will not have these money woes for long
or why i don't have scrilla to publish my next book
or the updates on the (amazing) love I'm pursuing
or the lessons I'm learning for the first time because I'm learning patience
or how I sometimes think about finishing my Ph.D. (but remember why I'm not)
or what pisses me off about conservatives (or liberals)
or why I miss my family, but feel a need to have distance with them at present
or the next or
but I choose to share
me
when spirit calls me to
share me
when i feel the words
come forth unforced
like minutes or seconds
that remind
I gots time
not to waste time
or words.
feel me?
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Today is World AIDS Day!
as is every other day that i wake up with its reality...
i am just very thankful to be (still) here. each dose a toast to all i give and share, everyone I love and those who generously love me, each prayer an extension of my faith in the bright future that lies ahead for me.
in light of this, I've been thinking alot about and recontextualizing the lyrics to a song by one of my favorite artists, Omar
www.omarmusic.net
____________________________________
Winner
show me how
I want to make things grow
and I'll live my life
and you can let me know
feel the strength in me
to take the full control
of the trials of my life
until my body's old
I'm a winner (X 4)
i feel it deep inside
i been handed the man's blessing
i had it told to me in truth
gave my life better meaning
many lessons of life
so many well worth teaching
i'm gonna share all i can
or my life ain't worth living
come with me
through life's long corridors
and I'm sure we'll find
one of those secret doors
making sense of time
so that there'll be some more
of that passion in our lives
let everybody know
i'm a winner!
i am just very thankful to be (still) here. each dose a toast to all i give and share, everyone I love and those who generously love me, each prayer an extension of my faith in the bright future that lies ahead for me.
in light of this, I've been thinking alot about and recontextualizing the lyrics to a song by one of my favorite artists, Omar
www.omarmusic.net
____________________________________
Winner
show me how
I want to make things grow
and I'll live my life
and you can let me know
feel the strength in me
to take the full control
of the trials of my life
until my body's old
I'm a winner (X 4)
i feel it deep inside
i been handed the man's blessing
i had it told to me in truth
gave my life better meaning
many lessons of life
so many well worth teaching
i'm gonna share all i can
or my life ain't worth living
come with me
through life's long corridors
and I'm sure we'll find
one of those secret doors
making sense of time
so that there'll be some more
of that passion in our lives
let everybody know
i'm a winner!
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