Me

When I say it in my head, the words WHO AM I play like a verse from – The #1 Stunna –

It took a long minute, but finally, with unwavering determination, I left the front porch, cocktail and cigarettes in hand and headed for the WordPress. I felt driven to the keyboard and encouraged to stop talking about it and be about it. I sat down, looked around and quickly decided that I needed to re-arrange the office furniture – right that second. This is my madness. I’m a little over exposed, sometimes over-poured, often over zealous, but mostly overly anxious. It is only because I can’t find the measuring tape that I have landed in the driver seat. I hope it’s a pleasant ride through the land of me.

I am,

Summer Brown. This is how my son described me. It made perfect sense when I boo -hoo’d to him about how the birds that visit me will be thirsty because the hail demolished their bird bath. Not Snow White, but a close cousin, Summer Brown.

Crazy. This is how my younger son described me. I asked, “When I’m very old, or dead and gone, what will you tell your children when they ask about me? He responded, “Oh her, she was a crazy lady”. This is true and we both laughed as he said it because it’s funny, because it’s true; and because people laugh sometimes as the easiest, safest response to uncomfortable things.

A Hippie? ~ in as much as I understand this to be! In any situation and with any intention, I welcome the label. When told I’m “not a hippie” (I’ve heard it several times, hence the quotations) I get a little insistent to the contrary, and politely declare, as I am now, that in as much as I understand a hippie to be, I am faith, green, love, peace, hope, friendship, kinship and joy, and my life is accompanied by music. This paragraph is Everyday People by Sly and the Family Stone.

Mamma – all my children call me. Sometimes, MamaJo… which I love. They tell me my grandkids will call me GrammaJo. Which I think I really like, but oh, please, not just yet.

And the “colleague”… as described by my boss. Along with over qualified, so good at what I do, agreeably underpaid and my favorite, Talented. My resume does not speak clearly enough for me and I’m not sure really, what it’s trying to say. What I do know is that I am capable of much, much more than I’m being tasked with. If I’m Microsoft excel, my employers are only intermediate users at best.

A voting taxpayer. Let me just say, the system, broken! The solution is much simpler than they’re making it out to be. For Politian’s or potentials or anyone really interested, I want to just divulge the reality of it all. So, really, think on it before you dismiss it. I mean really take a moment to let it sink in. Yes I’m intentionally putting it off – the build up is crucial. The answer is, put the files in order. I’ll give a little more on this another time… let that swirl for a bit. In order!

A bi-racial, minority, divorcee with 4 teenagers and what looks to be immanent foreclosure, who is on paper…DUI, first and only criminal offense…crappy in every possible way. This by nature also makes me “Ghetto” (also funny because it’s true). Yet, in the right shoes, at the right venue, I’m not ghetto at all, I’m accomplished and exotic. This also will come up again…

Smart. I have more thoughts than my brain can functionally contain in organized fashion. The light bulb… from the brain to the blog I’ll process and store it. Like magic, I’ve freed up memory space.

Often I am somewhere with someone who truly matters to me and I point out to them, when it seems to be the kind of day, moment, sky… that we should remember. ~ Because, it’s beautiful.

I wonder if this “Who I Am” begs a reader to ask themselves the same. It’s a beautiful moment that I hope to remember when I first made introductions to those I hope to inspire. I’ll head back to the front porch to meet with the Marlboro man and then dwell for a moment on my guilt for being so ridiculously addicted to his toxins. I’ll stop by the kitchen to top off my night-cap. I’ll sigh at the laundry that keeps moving from my bed to my chair but never to the closet. I’ll reflect on God’s grace and mercy. I’ll be grateful as I stretch my limbs as far toward each corner of the bed as I can. I’ll pray for myself and my children and the whole wide world.

 

I’ll often wonder what to bring to the tablet next. ~ Peace easy!

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2 Comments to “Me”

  1. Who could have thought that in a moment of reading about you that the spot in my heart could grow just that much. You do inspire my beautiful sister and friend. Your awareness forces me to look internally. I am proud of your ability to express yourself, your life, and your thoughts in such an honest and open way.

    You my sister are not ghetto and any sense of the word. You are (not matter what anyone who doesn’t know you says) a HIPPIE. That is my first descriptive word for you. It is who you are and I have known that for as long as I have known what the term means.

    I am just so proud of you. I am so blessed with every encounter I get with you; be it your blog, a phone call, an email, or a letter. You are truly something special.

    P.S. WRITE THE BOOK!

    • honey baby precious love of mine…. YOU are something special! I mean talk about being proud… who is more so than I, of you?! Thank you for the love from one hippie heart to another 🙂

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