I Am Enough.

"I am full of sparkle and compassion. I genuinely want to make the world a better place. I love hard. I practice kindness. I’m not afraid of the truth. I am loyal, adventurous, supportive, and surprising. I am a woman. I am enough. I make mistakes, but I own them and learn from them. Sometimes I make a bunch of mistakes.

I am enough. I am open, juicy, artistic, full blast. I am also vain, emotional, demanding, and looking for answers. I am a woman who is open to mysteries, accepting of miracles. I am diving in, devouring, loving, protecting, peeling back the surface of petty desires to the hunger for connection, for belief, for truth.

I am less concerned with doing things correctly than I once was and more concerned with dancing, drumming, swimming naked.

I accept that a sense of wonder is something to cultivate. I accept that I sometimes self medicate with alcohol, with filling my life full of busyness, with going into self imposed isolation. I accept that I crave financial abundance, a freedom to do what I want, when I want it. I am still enough.

I am a lover of ripe mangoes, stars in the midnight sky, stories around the campfire, the smell of rich coffee, laughing until I can’t breathe, having someone reach for my hand. I am a lover, a sister, a storyteller, a daughter, a mentor, and a student.

I am enough. "

i feel in love with this.

Sometimes something comes along where you wonder how your life was complete without it. Your work blows my mind, no kidding. I'm white, I have no culture just as you said and it breaks my heart. Sometimes I think I came from nowhere, just some watered down place but at least I have an open mind and can properly appreciate beauty. I try and write poetry but I always feel like I'm too close to everything I want to write about. You inspire me to be brave. So thanks for that.

A

Anonymous

There are 208 messages in my tumblr inbox thing and i felt something unravel when i read this one. Firstly, thank you. Secondly, I’d pray you hold no shame towards where you came from. “Whiteness” is something I’ve struggled with because it’s ambiguity has allowed for systematic slavery. My reference to white women “not being able to ride dick” in accordance with their lacking of a culture was intended to capture a piece of my personal process. It was ignorant in many ways. Maybe intentionally so. Idk. What i do know is “White” is not a color. They convinced you it was by engraining a set of institutional privileges in your skin. You, however, are not watered down. I know this because just like me you come from somewhere. You wrote something—-I’m writing back. This is all real. Nothing bland about it
.

Popsie

It has been taking me almost a month to write about my Grandpa in fear that my words will not do justice to the man he was. His demeanour was that of a quite, loving, humble man who was satisfied with a spam and egg breakfast and cold coffee through out the day.

I will forever love the smell of old spice and I will smile when I see a can of Spam. I will miss seeing him sitting in his chair in his room with the T.V blasting Chayanne or the theme song to Jeopard. I’ll never forget telling him I miss him and his response being, “ Oh doll, I miss you everyday...”

The man who taught me to fix my car mirror with tin foil was the same man who joined the United Stated Army in World War II out of pure selflessness. Although he was not one for speaking on the phone, he was a charmer in person. His twinkling blue eyes and his warm handshake, made his name fit him perfectly, Romeo Virtuoso.

Not only do Grandma’s voice always replay during random times of the day.. from “Lights are low since you went away..” and “Kisses int he morning, in the afternoon, Kisses in the evening and underneath the moon..”, but Grandpa’s tearful eyes and words of wisdom of “always running around” will be thought simultaneously with Grandma’s music.

To the man that “broke the mold” but showed me that there are respectable men out there.. and I was lucky enough to have the best one as my Grandpa.

Oh Grandpa.. I miss you everyday.

Until we meet again.



“May the wind always be on your back and the sun upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars.”

love.

The same stream of life that runs
through my veins night and day runs
through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy
through the dust of the earth in numberless
blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle
of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages
dancing in my blood this moment.