The Art of Growing in Purposeful Silence

So much on my mind. 

I’ll be offline with serving, growing, and learning with my babies, my favorite muses, the  Flourishing Blossoms  .. I’ll be back with stories and photos...this is my favorite part of being an educator and non-profit founder.  Grateful. Grateful. 

You are not disposable  I will not judge you  I will not mistake my assumptions and projections for your true feelings  Friend  Don’t run from me  Trust me  You’re only running from yourself because we are reflections of one another  Walk toward peace of mind or  I will push you  Like I expect you to push me  To break records like Ann Pe try

Happy inside. Place of peace. Smiling back you, smiling back at me.  It’s the beginning of dialogue. It’s a time when I can see myself in others, eradicate my judgements, and love them as unconditionally as I desire to be loved. 

This is my year of no. I am in control of my voice. I get to decide when to speak. I know that people listen to me, so I only speak when I have something worth listening to, something that will transform the soul, something that will teach the ear as it rolls off my tongue. Sexy. Provocative. In the least expected ways. I can’t predict when I will be ready to say yes. My word doesn’t live by deadlines. My craft is organic. I don’t force myself to be heard just because... I am intentional af.  Working on my consistency, watching myself and noticing when my commitment to self is most appropriate and when I need to put others’ needs before me.  It’s not balance, it’s art. The art of my words match the patterns of my actions. All reflecting my heart. 

Today was my students’ graduation day. I’m still practicing purposeful silence from speaking publicly as a result of my year with them. They challenged me beyond measure. They depleted me of all desire of being seen. They muted my productions. —All by amplifying their voice. They needed me to be fully present. Their growth may not be seen in standardized test scores or even in the essays I hung up for their parents to see at graduation. Their writing is still below grade level. They still don’t read as avidly as they need. But they grew. Like the roots chasing the water in the cave of dreams in Tulum. I have seen them grow, from the places nightmares shine more than suns. Sons.  I have seen them finish, in the same seats my grandmother dropped out of.  Legacy.  I see my babies and I see them as young adults at the same time. I see. What others may call lazy, as light.  It’s still shining in my eye and it burns when I look too long.  Now ...is not the time for me to feel guilty about ho

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I love being a Godmama (this is my godbaby, Ellie) and auntie (my nephew is my heart, I call him little face because he looks so much like me). I still don’t know if I want to have children of my own. I never really saw myself as a mom. At 33 (in 3 weeks) I am still very self-centered, selfish, and mean, at times. Not all the time but I do catch myself. Yesterday, my 8th grade girls told me I would be a good mama and my partner always says the same thing but me, I don’t see it, yet.  The more I read about the abortion laws that are going into effect, the more I cringe at the idea that someone has the ability to tell us what to do with our bodies. As if we are robots in a dystopian society. I’m no robot and I don’t consider my community a dystopia. But how can we stop lawmakers from passing unjust bills? Writing a post online doesn’t mean much to me, I am too action-driven at this point in my life. That’s why I don’t say as much as I used to. I have no desire to announce my disappointme