Airball...

In an attempt to re-acclimate myself to American culture after having been abroad, I decided to make an effort to watch college basketball this season.

I grew up playing basketball-- yes, Jess, that's how I got my broad shoulders (wink, wink). But I loved it. It was an outlet for me, a way to take out aggression, a mechanism to learn how to overcome obstacles and an activity that taught me leadership and teamwork.

As a Chicagoan born in the mid-80s, I also grew up watching one of the most legendary basketball teams. There was no way to avoid watching Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen tear through multiple opponents to win six NBA titles. Watching these championships created some of my favorite childhood memories.

But having lived abroad for two and half years, my love for basketball faded. Though there was a good amount of basketball played in South Africa, it is not what it is here in the United States, and people do not follow the NBA or NCAA avidly. I watched more rugby matches than basketball games, a notion that sickens me a little bit now that I stop to think about it.

So here I am, a Georgetown alumna diving into March Madness once again. There is a well-balanced amount of tension and anticipation in the air. With a Syracuse alum for a brother, the excitement inside me builds and I can feel the competitive side of me awaken. Georgetown shows skill and potential in the Big East Tournament, and I begin to believe again.

And then we lose to Ohio University in the first round of the NCAA Tournament.

Feel the air being let out of your sails? The pop of a balloon?

No, that’s just the sinking of my heart. Or the force of a big fat Georgetown airball.

Working on My Fitness

About two weeks ago while procrastinating at my Assistantship I came across an article on Clutch Online Magazine that listed some excuses we come up with in regards to working out. While reading the list I noticed that I had used some of the excuses myself. In HS I thought of running track but after the first practice run I realized that my hair was more important. Next I thought of basketball but then realized that all the female players had to lift weights at practice and this resulted in some rather broad shoulders. This just isn't for me I thought.

Fast forward to Fall 2008, during my unemployment bid I noticed that my midsection was getting a bit soft. An observation that was later confirmed when my godsis came over and told me I looked fat. That very week we (her and I) signed up for our first Bikram Yoga class and I have been hooked ever since! For those of you who don't know, the class is 90 minutes long, consists of 26 postures, and the room is heated to about 105-110 degrees (note the hottest class I ever had was at 127 and it was brutal). What I probably like most about it is the fact that there is no talking, you literally get on your mat and zone the F out, not to mention the fact that its also a total body workout. Seeing as I didn’t have classes or work this week I made it a point to go as many times as I could, not only because I polished off a German Chocolate cake this past weekend but I also make it a point to make it as cost effective as possible (its the Haitian in me, I can't help this).

For anyone thinking of getting back into shape or spicing up their current workout routine you should definitely give Bikram a shot. Sure your hair might need a lot of TLC afterwards but think of the results

A Comedy of Errors & its entire Cast...

Starring me, myself, and I...I have long been convinced that my life is a set up. You know like the Truman Show, where one day I would start to notice the cameras and sets or by one unfortunate accident all the cameras and mics would fall before me and my suspicions about the people around me confirmed...it hasn't happened yet but I'm sure its coming.

And Action...
Friday Morning, I drag my ass out of bed even earlier than my usual 4 o'clock am ritual. Get dressed, bathed after my meditations and head out the house at 7:45 to get to a 9 am training - a ride that is usually 35- 40 minutes tops on the 5 train. Not this Friday...no this train driver was driving Ms. Daisy and slower than Morgan Freeman could ever do it. Thus, the trip was 60 minutes and walking to my training I was in a good mood like "whatever, its Friday" bent the corner, climbed the stairs with a ready-for-the-day smile plastered across my face and a Good Morning on my lips only to be met with a "what a happened?" And I said "pardon?" "this is your second lateness its 9:11am- you're lucky I didn't give you a written warning" and all i could think is there are 5 of 50 people here- you're lucky my behind showed up and don't say another word because the visit will be short lived!

Fast fwd...
Back to Brooklyn and back to work, As I laid my jacket down and bounced toward my office door, I was filled with the countenance and warmth of the newly emergent sun after a depressingly long winter...and there he was looking like Black Hercules and I wanted to laugh because innately I always want to laugh when I meet people that appear overly self assured- its not a bad thing but just a funny thing. He is always so confident with his unibrow that it amazes me. I know very few people that can carry a unibrow off without a hitch but he had it whatever that extra thing is , he definitely emanated it on Friday. And there we were in full banter about the politics of blackness in America, new work, and random facts. I am writing this fully aware that you might think i like this guy but what i'm getting to is he thought so too. perhaps prematurely as i don't even know if that is true- so there I am in full banter when everything comes to an interesting halt as my socially awkward, curious for the sake of curiosity led inner ten year old emerges, he gives me this look that let's me know he thinks i am coming on to him and  I am thinking is he staring at my scars that is so rude(recently afflicted with a stress induced condition that left little scars on my lips and my ego semi-bruised). It took me a lil while to become present to the fact that the things that i'd asked could be misconstrued and by that time he was dropping me off at the train and an overwhelming feeling of weirdness washed over me.  I realize that sometimes i live in that space and it followed me-right into a dollar cab with four other people and manifested itself into a French West Indian woman 3 or 4 times my size that decided that even after the seat next to her became vacant, she was comfortable with half of her ass being on my lap and her huge frame forcing my body into the car door...it was in that moment that the errors of the day became ever present and i wanted to push her fat ass to the floor of that cab...


The Credits...
 But settled for telling you this story and declaring that amidst a plethora more of Fat black french women (errors) I will keep on trucking because these comedic errors, awkward conversations, and unforeseen confrontations only add to the richness of my experience! Or atleast that's what i've sold myself on LOL!

Celebrate

I think it’s time to celebrate. So much of life is about pain and uncertainty, but though we remind ourselves that pain makes us stronger and uncertainty gives us options, we forget that our lives are made of more this.

Let’s celebrate the unexpected positives in life. I think of these as the positives that do not give us immediate satisfaction, but rather the ones that provide extended fulfillment. Unexpected positives are events in life we thought were negatives or the ones we were indifferent toward. We usually acknowledge that which blocks our paths, but seldom that which diverts us to a better path.

Let’s celebrate the heartbreak, the failures, the struggles that we have all experienced that may bring us a joy that we have never before imagined. Expected happiness can be boring. It’s the unexpected that makes my heart flutter and my stomach jump.

Let’s celebrate the possibilities. Happy birthday Melissa and Michele!

Open Heart, But Closed Ears

I have a friend who I love dearly, and I call her when I want to talk and get all existential on my life, because she’s great to talk to. But there are times when it’s difficult to talk to her because she just WON’T LISTEN. It's hard for her to listen when her mind’s preoccupied with her issues. For example, she called me the other day to see how I was doing after I had an intense conversation with my ex-boyfriend. I began my story and then she interrupted me to ask if I would come outside and help her bring a table she found on the street to her apartment (we live in the same neighborhood). I said no since it was midnight and I wanted to go to sleep after this conversation, and I tried to continue. Then she cut me off to complain about one of her roommates, and then asked for advice on some guy she’s dealing with. I thought she had called to hear about my event. If she didn’t really want to talk about it, she shouldn’t have even asked and we could have dedicated the conversation to her dilemmas.

How can I tell my friend to shut up and listen to my problems without sounding like a winey child? I can’t be too mad at her, because there are many instances where she gave me immense support, but it’s really frustrating in those moments when she’s not supportive at all. I also can’t blame her because she has a flighty personality. She can be ADD in all facets of her life, not just when it comes to listening to me, so I shouldn’t take it personally. She did realize that she usurped the conversation after we finished because she text me afterward to apologize for her rant and say how proud she was of my talk with my ex. But I don’t want the apology; I’d rather her just listen.

Friends who don’t listen are annoying, but on the flip side, friends who only listen to you when you have problems are equally annoying. You know the ones: the people who don’t have time to listen to you when you’re listing all the great things going on in your life, but are all ears when your life is falling apart. That’s my best friend from home. She loves to hear when I’m down. Not because she wishes the worst for me, but because it makes her feel better about her situation. I know I feel the same way when I hear people complain about their misfortune, but I like to think that I still care about their successes. Whenever we talk on the phone and I tell her about how excited I am for life and all the great things going on at the time, she tells me she has to go and will call me right back, but never does. But if I start a conversation about my men/job/family/housing/money troubles, she has all the time in the world to listen to how bad everything is.

I guess it’s a good thing that someone is listening to my issues, but I don’t know who it benefits more. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m venting the negative energy out of my system. I'll just try to be grateful I have friends who will listen to me, and try not to get too frustrated when they can't focus when I want them to. Besides, I probably do the same thing to them.

Am I really a quitter?

Last year, I went on my first professional roller coaster. I’m not speaking of the rides that populate amusement parks, but rather of my first experience in a negative work situation.

The situation was similar to many. Poorly structured organization, a rashly constructed job description, a demanding boss and lack of official support. That’s the censored version. As these factors and others mounted, I made a choice to leave. Yes. I quit. Against everything that I had been taught to be righteous and true, I gave up on a situation in order to preserve myself.

Though I have beaten myself up about quitting, I learned quickly that preserving yourself is essential. Seeing something through isn’t always worth it.

Drama aside, the job asked me to compromise parts of myself that I had never intended to. And though most compromise is necessary to learn and grow, I did not value the benefits of this compromise.

Not that I didn’t make mistakes. I was inexperienced and didn’t play the professional game well. But, then again, I was chosen for the position partly because of this inexperience. Most of the time, however, my mistakes were the result of my confidence being attacked or a lack of proper communication from the powers that be.

When I considered leaving, the words of one of my friends resonated, “Professional mistakes should have professional consequences. The minute they begin to affect your personal life, they have gone too far.”

A statement that is beyond comprehension for someone who feels that her work is an integral part of her being. I felt that my job was a reflection of my passions and abilities, and I was willing to dedicate my entire self to it-- whatever it was. My job was supposed to give me a sense of purpose and opportunities to learn and create.

Instead, my first professional roller coaster ride taught me more. I learned that a job is not worth my confidence. I learned that interpersonal relationships-- personal and professional-- should be nurtured and valued. And I learned that professional relationships can be just as toxic as personal ones.

Sometimes you have to leave.

Racketeer of Love

Okay, so I went to a retreat for my job today and much of it was pretty routine..."I" statements, ownership over your own feelings and the like. But the last topic of the day hit me like a ton of bricks!...Rackets- defined by the facilitator,  Herma as a response to a threat, a Racket is the propensity toward filtering our behaviors and attitude toward a situation or person because of a perceived slight. It manifests itself in a number of unproductive ways that stagnate progress.

On the train ride home, it dawned on me that I've been running a racket on every man that I meet and perhaps even myself. I am overwhelmingly apprehensive about relationships and recently took myself off of an 8-month hiatus from dating but i'm gun shy about getting back on the horse:

The Racket
Threat: opening up
Cause: I have expressed the need for stability in relationships with a host of different men and came up   empty in each case (all names have been disguised to protect the innocent and guilty as you may see it ;-)!*)

Xavier* a friend for several years during college expressed a strong attraction to me and we began seeing each other casually and did so intermittently for about a year...I got to a point where I wanted more, he let me know in no uncertain terms that such a thing would NEVER happen! As a result, I don't put myself out there.

Daniel* the only man I ever loved- promised if I gave him my heart he would never hurt me...that went out the window at the sight of the first woman to stick her tongue in his ear and hand down his pants...I shut down

Kilpatrick*  said he wanted to get serious but didn't know that meant actually actively engaging in conversation and interaction...I got tired and gave up!

Result: When guys ask me out I automatically lie and say i'm taken or I live a happy fulfilled single existence or I'm off men....I get cussed out by frustrated men that have asked me out by every single angle and I go home lonely.

WTH is a happy fulfilled single life after basically 2yrs of intense career focus and businesses that are starting to succeed? I'll tell you its bullshit...its long hours being held by worries about work and waking up at 3am to check your damn email because there is no one there to remind you that you are more than work.

This Racket i've been running has me in a mess....met a dude that I honestly wanted to pursue and I've been telling myself I can't because I'm happy dating my work but work doesn't give massages, kiss you and tell you everything is going to be okay...

Confessing and Conquering Fear..

Not quite ready to do it...coming soon!

In Living Clutter!!!! (PART 1)

Friends,

I'm embarking on a new move in my life--a transition, a new or renewed me. I've been feeling the gradual pull away from what was in my life to what is and what is to come. A new me, I feel, is here even as the old me is slow to shed its skin. I am choosing not to tell you the full details of the "new move" but it is only a piece of the overall transformation that is slowly building in my life. I say all of this to share the importance of clearing the clutter of life.

Last weekend, I sorted through clothes, shoes, papers, books, magazines and old journals in an effort to donate or throw out those things that were no longer of use to me. I was overwhelmed by the amount of STUFF I've accumulated since high school and college, which were either stored in boxes in my basement or scattered in my room. "How did I acquire this much stuff?," I kept asking myself as a few papers turned into a multitude. At one point, standing in the middle of a pile of clothes and stacks of paper, I just wanted to throw everything in the trash. The sheer idea of sorting through all my STUFF became more and more frustrating as the weekend ensued. I realized that it would take more than a weekend to clear the clutter from my place.

Clutter. I did a google search on its definition and here's the first three meaning to pop up:

• a confused multitude of things
• fill a space in a disorderly way
• unwanted echoes that interfere with the observation of signals on a radar screen

My takeaway from these definitions are that clutter is a result of our accumulation of too much or a "multitude" of things, which I call STUFF. These things can be both physical, like clothing, shoes or papers, and emotional, like our unresolved feelings or interpretations toward events in our lives. The main characteristic of clutter is that it fills space (too much space, in my case) to the point of confusion, disorder, and unwanted interference in our lives. At times our lives can be so packed with clutter that the idea of digging out and clearing it causes immediate exhaustion and frustration. So what do we do...let the clutter pile up until we have enough energy to deal with it. I know I am guilty of that philosophy. I put off sorting through and organizing my STUFF for so long I didn't even realize how much STUFF I had.

But I realize now that clutter is potentially dangerous for our physical, emotional and spiritual health and vitality, especially as creative people. Think about a time you visited friend's house and when you got to their bedroom it looked like a hurricane came through it--clothes strewn across the floor, bed unmade, and STUFF everywhere. Maybe you didn't even make it to the bedroom before you conclude the house was a wreck or a bio-hazard. How did you feel? Or, better yet, what did you smell? LOL, seriously, clutter can make you feel closed in, uncomfortable, disgusted, and overwhelmed. I'm sure we've all been on the other side of this situation as well (of course, to varying degrees) where a few days (or weeks) went by and your laundry piled up in your room and important papers or mail never got filed (or even opened). I can admit to that. Maybe you kept buying or had enough new clothes that you did not do your laundry until it fit into your busy schedule.

The same can be said in the emotional and spiritual aspects of our lives when we fail to deal with unresolved feelings towards the people and situations in our life. Has there ever been a time when someone did or said something hurtful to you but you choose not to talk about it in order to avoid confrontation? How did holding back your emotions make you feel? I know I've bottled up my emotions in order to keep the peace in a relationship but my heart, or emotional space, could only hold onto so much unresolved feelings before I blew up on the someone. Therefore, in either aspect, physical or emotional, when clutter is not addressed or controlled, it builds.

To close on PART 1 of this message, why is it important to clear clutter? Here are my thoughts:

1. To give our minds, bodies and spirit clarity
2. To restore order and balance in our lives
3. To shift our focus and concentration away from our STUFF and put it on what is truly essential in life--GOD and the love of one another

I am tired of living my life in clutter! Clutter is blocking the creative flow I need for my writing and art. Clutter is making me lose focus and time on what is really important because I've allowed it to pile up so much, without clearing it or processing it, that it overwhelms me. In Part 2, I will talk about how we (you and me) can get the clutter of our lives under control.

My Declaration: I WILL ZAP THE CLUTTER OF MY LIFE THIS YEAR AND FEEL RENEWED!

With Love,

Malaika

Standby...

I pushed pause on life a few months ago.

For a woman who is used to being occupied at every moment of the day, pushing pause isn’t an easy thing. A productive member of society is not defined singularly, yet I cannot to claim to be a productive member of society by any definition.

This moment of my life is my first standby frame.

I grew up playing musical instruments, participating in sports, and academically inclined. I loved trying new activities and through this made community service a staple in my life. I always had a bright social life. Remaining active throughout college, I decided that I couldn’t move back home after graduating deciding instead to move across the world to South Africa.

But moving back home came eventually.

I returned to Chicago from South Africa about six months ago, after having lived in Johannesburg for over two years. Every moment there was a new adventure because it had to be-- living on my own, finding my own way, constantly finding and confronting new opportunities to learn. And though life away from home was not an unrestricted utopia, I feel a deep connection with my life abroad.

And every cliche comes to and end.

Like many of my peers, I have learned that returning to the familiar can be just as difficult as discovering the unfamiliar. Since I made the decision to move back to my childhood home in order to be closer to family, I didn’t have a job lined up for me before I moved. I decided that this time off would be a good time to focus on other aspects of life besides professional development. I would put in some applications to graduate school while being supportive and present for family members.

Instead, I found myself starting over.

Most of my time feels like I am waiting. Waiting for something to happen, for my path to take me somewhere, for family to support me, for life. Everyday I wait, I feel my person fading. Yet, despite my restlessness, I cannot seem to pull myself out of my rut.

I’ve finished the law school applications, joined groups to meet new people and made concerted efforts to spend time with family. I am writing a business plan for an organization that I would like begin building during my time in graduate school. I have set goals and am taking a small step toward them everyday.

And still...