Today, my husband and I stayed in bed until almost 1:00 p.m. I rarely get any sleep during the week. On my most fortunate evenings, I may get a full five hours uninterrupted. So, on Friday nights/Saturday mornings, I often make up for that.
I usually spend my Saturdays oiling my scalp and applying a deep treatment mask to my hair, wrapping it up and just lazing around the house all day. Today, however, when we finally got out of bed, he started making vegan potato salad, something I absolutely love but that I rarely eat since he doesn’t love it as much as I do (which is a good thing, too, cuz let’s face it: potato salad ain’t healthy). I took the time to reorganize my overflowing nightstand drawers. I ate my first meal of the day at around 4 p.m., which was a heaping serving of potato salad, with an entire 16-oz can of rinsed chick peas and two chopped up tomatoes. About an hour later I ate a bowl of generic corn pops and Kix mixed together with unsweetened almond milk. I don’t think I’ll eat anything else today.
I opted out of oiling and treating my hair today because I will apply henna to it tomorrow after church, which is a treatment in and of itself. So, I plan to put it on for several hours and then put in the deep treatment mask afterwards. The only thing I don’t like about henna treatments is the SMELL. It kind of smells like pine and tea tree oil mixed together. The results it gives my hair, though, are worth it. It really minimizes frizz and defines my curls. Frizz has been running rampant ever since I dyed my hair with a regular hair dye. I had perfectly healthy almost virgin hair before I made that huge mistake! All because I wanted to cover a few grays at the top of my head, which, honestly didn’t even happen. The dye all but faded entirely within two weeks. Henna turns my grays into a golden color that I prefer over the stark silver.
I feel like I spent way too much time talking about my hair. But that’s okay. The fact that I’m writing at all is great for me – especially on a Saturday! I want, need to get back into the groove of writing because it was and may very well still be my true passion. Something I’m good at doing, or at least, used to be. I remember praying recently, asking God to reveal to me what I should do. What my gift was. What could I offer to be of any help or impact to the world. There was a time when I considered writing a book. I think I may have even kind of started one, but I kept getting stuck on where/how I should start…
I thought I’d write a fictional book filled with my very nonfictional childhood traumas. But again, I got stuck with the start of it…and the names I came up with to represent myself, mom, and other characters just bothered me. Frankly, though, I wasn’t ready to bring all of that up again. I always think I’m over what happened to me until I start talking about it and then I realize I’m not. Isn’t the sign of being over something being able to talk about it without crying? Well, I couldn’t do that. I wonder if I’m ready now? Or do I even think it’s necessary to talk about that with the world? It could – most likely absolutely would – hurt my mother. I think. And I’m not in the mood to do that.
Can I tell you a secret? I keep having these visions of being a popular public figure. I’ve seen myself on stage talking to big crowds, and even on TV, like on a talk show or something, again, with a large audience. I’ve had these visions for years and I never understood them because they are so contradictory to how I feel about myself. I don’t see myself ever being comfortable with being the center of attention, or with public speaking. I practically pass out speaking in front of a dozen people during once-or-twice-yearly training sessions – can you imagine me speaking to hundreds? Thousands? Apparently, I can imagine it, but I can’t quite make senseof it. On my good days, I see myself being interesting. Worth being listened to and respected. Someone people can look up to and aspire to become. Influential in the most positive of ways. I don’t know where that thinking comes from. For goodness sake, I’m 41 years old. Who begins a journey where any of that could be possible at 41? And I’ll be 42 in four months!
I don’t know what God has in store for me, but I’m willing to find out. I believe that while we have special gifts that are, of course, God-given, those gifts alone aren’t what’s going to get us to where we need to go. I believe that God is the final piece to our destiny. All my shortcomings will be made up for by God, who is above me, beside me and even in me; and, I think that time is coming soon.
Until next time, be blessed.
XOXOXO - Jess
No comments:
Post a Comment