For My Black Girl Lost
Waking thoughts: Question I was asked last night about starting Blossoms in Harlem before starting in Greenburgh. Reason: because I made it out of Greenburgh but my mama couldn't outrun the demons in Harlem. This city ate her alive. She made the great migration from North Carolina with no compass for direction, she became a Black girl lost. Here is where she met my father who exposed her to the beast that altered everything. Mid-Sunday mornings, I sit under the bridge and write, same spots she would sleep under, same spots she would get her fix under. This work in me ain't just for me, it's bigger than me.
Resources. It's about resources. Not saying growing up in Westchester is any easier than the city but I'm saying look at the resources. I can only do one thing at a time right now. I was sent where I am needed.
Grateful: My first thoughts upon waking up in the middle of the night are no longer suicidal, no longer me comparing myself to who I was before I reached a breaking point, no longer crying and wallowing in despair.
First thoughts are so important. They set your entire day. I am grateful for the ones I woke up to just now. The clarification of my purpose, the specificity of my steps.
Affirmations: I am chosen. Being chosen means that I am led by Source, not by self. I go where I am supposed to go. I am where I am supposed to be.
I am Light.
I am grateful.