Through The Eyes of a Child

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I often compare my sons to Max in Where the Wild Things Are. I used to read that book to them when they were little; my youngest, curled up in my lap in a much too small Spider-Man costume.  The book  is all about a child’s growth and change as expressed thru his creativity, imagination, and fury.  That about sums up teenage boys in my experience.

Me and My Boys

I did not know Trayvon Martin. Was he spirited and wild? Was he creative introspective and philosophical? Did he engage his parents in discussions about genocide in Africa and homelessness is America? Did he think that he had the solution to _________ if people would just listen? I bet he did.  Because my boys do.

I have not kept up with all of the news reports.  I have read a few articles; enough to know the basics of what happened. Mostly, however, I have looked at the pictures of Trayvon. I see his beautiful, creamy, sun-kissed skin, his boyish face transitioning to that of a man, his bright eyes open to the possibilities of life.  I see my sons.

I can imagine that he was returning from the store completely clueless to the fact that anyone might find him threatening. My baby boy (who is 14 and already 6-4) functions with the same lack of awareness. He is goofy and really silly; still working on full mastery of his motor skills. What’s threatening about that?

I can imagine that he had no idea what to do when ambushed by this total stranger. I wonder how my boys would react. We have taught them in great detail how to respond to the police if ever stopped for (even for no apparent reason): no sudden movements… be extremely polite…explain with clear words when reaching for identification.  But how could Trayvon have been prepared for this? What could his parents have said that would have made a difference at that moment?

I remember telling my boys the story about Emmet Till. Their reaction was as if I was speaking about ancient history that has no relation to life now. Trayvon’s murder has stunned them. I do not feel vindicated. I feel sad. I wish I was wrong and they were right.

My husband and I have tried to balance two things with while  raising our boys during the teenage years: certain realities of being a black male in America and, as President Obama so eloquently coined it, the audacity of hope.

Society -who ever in hell they are- can think, say, feel what it likes. Our boys are entitled to grow up just like their white counterparts: edgy and fearless… challenging the status quo.  Protecting that right is no small feat.

Trayvon’s life was cut short because someone misinterpreted who he was. We have no idea what Trayvon might have become.

My faith in God tells me that there is a much bigger purpose in this tragedy. Perhaps Trayvon Martin (like Emmett Till before him) was sent to deliver a message that only the innocence of a child can convey.  Hopefully, we are all receiving it.

I hope that all parents see their sons in Trayvon and are praying with this family as they heal from unimaginable pain.

I hope that those who look at my sons and are threatened for whatever reasons begin to remember their  own youth… their own wildness… their own audacity.

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Sugar, Oh Honey Honey

Aside

Shortly after my last post life got just a little crazy.

I finally scheduled a medical/nutritional evaluation that I had been avoiding for some time and received some sobering feedback. Bottom line, another couple of layers were added  to my health care regime: a heck of a lot of nutritionals to give my immune system a boost and oh, I almost forgot.  No freakin’ sugar.  In addition to to my commitment to homemade meals, organic/local eating, limiting gluten, balanced nutrition… I have to give up my beloved chocolate.

I took a deep breathe, negotiated to keep my wine and coffee (organic, fair trade, and sulfite free ofcourse); and walked out determined to make it work. I knew my life, at least as I know it, depended on it.  This was on a Thursday so I asked for the weekend to let things settle a bit.  For me that meant I opened up the cabinet and let the Nutella flow in.

That Monday I got focused.  I needed to pull away from as many distractions as possible.  But life continues and a lot has happened. I managed to complete my training for the Disney Princess Half Marathon (without sugar=very hard). Soccer season is in full swing for the fam which means 5 teams with 8 games a week to fit in between two very thinly spread parents.  And…my first born turned 18. Still adjusting to that one.

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When did this happen?

So why did I return to blogging today? Quite simply, I was ready to share again. I’ve been in a somewhat meditative state for the last six weeks limiting my contact with the outside world. Besides, I don’t like to talk about my problems until I have them somewhat figured out.  I will share more about my break-up with sugar but in the meantime,  here is a great article that may have you reconsidering your jelly beans this Easter.

Whenever I give my spirit the attention it deserves, amazing things happen. My soul-sisters have metephorically linked arms in protection around me.

Dawn and I went to Je Ju spa.

*side note* If you live within driving distance you must go. You will thank me.  Get the body scrub but be forewarned: at some point you will have a small Korean lady straddling your back… all is fair in health right?

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Helen and Dawn- two of my soul sisters

Helen hosted a luncheon and invited women who share a passion for optimizing their health. We had amazing dialoug about everything from Helen’s secrets to longevity to how to create a budget friendly, nutritionally sound eating plan for your family. Good times.

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just a bit of our spread:)

Jamie and I have founds ways to support each other despite being oceans apart. She always appears when I need her. She and Dawn have taken this sugar battle on as well. Cause that’s how we roll.

Several of my friendships have deepened in the last several weeks. I have also had a steady stream of emails/text/phone calls from women seeking advice or support in improving their health. I consider wellness my minisitry and my health challenges my testimony.I do not have time  to feel sorry for myself.

On my run today, I was struck with how blessed I feel. During my meditation, I allowed my heart to open completely.

I wake every morning with a desire to get it right and God gives me that chance all over again…every single day. So today it was all about gratitude.

I am grateful for the journey.

Namaste’

P.S. I also discovered Pinterest. It’s on and poppin’!