Be yourself, no matter what they say!

"I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien I'm a ..."

For days now I have been consumed with Stings: Englishman in New York, and I had no idea why. Why does this particular song kept coming into my phyche? Or why am I drawn to the message? I had this overwhelming desire to hear the song, to process the words and dissect its meaning. I honestly thought it was just a good song, until I realized that this connection wasn't an coincidence.This was Divine Intervention! For those who know me, has heard me say a time or two that I have life theme songs. Well, here is another I need to add to my list of my meisms.

"I don't drink coffee, I take tea my dear ::  I like my toast done on one side :: And you can hear it in my accent when I talk :: I'm an Englishman in New York"

Ever since I graced the west side jungle, I feel like the BIGGEST foreigner. (Which technically I am) I don't fit in mentally, emotional or spiritual with most of the people I encounter. In my previous chapters, I have been conditioned and formed throughout the years of my early adulthood, and I have happily placed myself in a nice safe bubble which has recently popped with a definite bang. This left me with hurt feeling and a distaste for the unfamiliar. Thankfully, there's grace and I have a core group of individuals that encourages me to push past all odds. Although, I am not gonna to fake the funk: sometimes it's only my faith in God that motivates me to get out of bed. This city is not for the faint of heart. Rejection after rejection does not make me want to push harder, it makes me want to pack up my two little things and run for the hills. Honestly the reason why I don't is because I used all my resources to get out here. #FAIL. So of course, I am left with "positive thoughts" and moving forward with the belief that I can make "it". Why? Because I have no choice.  

"You can see me walking down Fifth Avenue :: A walking cane here at my side :: I take it everywhere I walk :: I'm an Englishman in New York"

With this forced attitude, I would awake with a heavy heart, and force myself to hope for the best -which isn't easy. I was so desperate to stay above the unyielding waters  -that steadily rise above me- that I let people talk and treat me any 'ol-type-a-way.  I started second guessing myself and I became depressed. I did my best not to show it; after all, this burden is mine alone to bare, but I cannot tell you how many times I would fight back tears of frustration and anger.

"I'm and alien, I'm a legal alien :: I'm an Englishman in New York" (x2)

The next day, I would complain to my mother or best friend about how I was wronged or of the shenanigans I had to put up just to collect pennies on the dollar. I received good sound advice, but I couldn't process it properly; I was in my own head. The complaints got so bad that I even annoyed myself. With wounds to lick, I became frustrated with God for not listening. (Oh, how easy it is to blame God when things don't go the way we want them to.) ::that's a freebie::

"If, 'Manners maketh man' as someone said :: He's that hero of the day :: It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile :: Be yourself no matter what they say"

Somehow, someway the encouraging word/s of ministry or my peers reached my heart, and I started to do what I do best, self assess. My outlook on situations started to change. ('still a work in process.) I started to change my verbiage, and tried not to complain. No matter how justified or righteous I felt I was, I reminded myself: life teaches us lessons, and I want to live life, and not have life live me. No longer was I going to let someone demean me or make me feel like I didn't matter.

"Modesty, propriety can lead to notoriety :: You could end up as the only one :: Gentleness, sobriety, rare in this society :: At night a candle's brighter than the sun"

 I was reminded long ago, that Jesus was both Lion and Lamb, and I am not weak for being sensitive or gentle, but I DO need to stand up for myself . I need to let these people know...hey! that's not OK to talk or treat me this way. The only thing... how does that look without being Princess Rudey? In the moment; I don't want to say something in anger and I can't say it when things are going well, because it's like I am starting trouble.

"Takes more than combat gear to make a man :: takes more than a license for a gun :: Confront your enemies, avoid them when you can :: A gentleman will walk but never run"

 There are {still} things I need to learn and there is a greater person I will become. I may not have all the answers, but I know my voice can and will be heard. I don't need to be rude or aggressive, but no one will hear me if I don't say a word. I will embrace my strength and not be ashamed of who I am... 'I will be myself...no matter what they say'. So although I may be sensitive and/or gentle. So my take away from the life lessons of a song: I may not always fit into every situation, but I am only weak if I don't take a stand for myself.
  

Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Grow Sick

I don't think people realize how utterly boring I am. I have no great story or witty personality to keep you intrigued, and yet I desire -like so many of us- to be greater than myself. Why is that, you think? My everyday life consists of my trying, failing, crying and hoping... WHAT A CRAPPY Life... This never ending circle is defining me, and I don't know if I should rejoice in this new found strength or collapse from my weakness.
I keep telling myself to keep pushing; keep trying, because I have to believe in hope. My question: Does hope still believe in me? Through this quest...err journey of whatnots and self discovers, my eyes are opening to people. Their personalities -the perception of my brethren; the possibilities, that had escaped me or that I have let slip by... Yet, I've been conditioned to hold on. It's been instilled in me since birth {I am sure} to "never give up, never surrender." But, what happens when you are tired of trying? Serious question. What happens when hope becomes deferred, and you are at the end of your rope? Pray? I do that... Believe? No doy... Try harder? I'm a freaken rock!
I consider myself intelligent, although I could kick myself for the years I have wasted. {Real talk! Don't let anyone talk you out of your dream, but only a fool skips their education.}
On one of my many random stranger talks (that's what I do, make friends with random strangers) Hawk, a retired sub-marine pilot, told me, "eduction is the the lubricant of the mind". I couldn't agree more. After our 15 min conversation, he agreed with my self evaluated wisdom, but he also said, 'no one will ever know my worth just from seeing skills on a piece of paper, they need to see that I have a degree to back up my worth: it's like an insurance policy'. I hate the fact of institutional learning but you know what...
I have this vision of me doing, being and living. However the fear of not being able to produce the product has taken root. Life does that to you, when you start to second guess your worth. That's why I haven't been blogging much, because I am afraid I will be judged on my comma placements or my grammatical mistakes. Therefore, I won't edit this or second guess my words, I will just express myself and let you read this in the raw. (I'm refusing to live in this fear) So although, I may be boring with no great story to tell, or witty personality, my hope is not completely lost.  I now know I should continue in my studies, because I want to show MYSELF that I have worth. ::with or without a degree::