Sing To Strangers

I was helping my cousin transport furniture to his new apartment the other day, when suddenly car problems caused him to pull off the road. He assured me that he’d get the car running again, and asked that I drive on to his apartment with the furniture. When I felt comfortable enough with his assessment, I decided to drive on toward our destination. Moments later, my nephew Josh called and asked me if I had time to drive him to a friends house and, assured that I had time to do so, stopped off to pick him  up. Kaitlyn, my girlfriends seven year old daughter who was with me during this excursion, was polite in this, her initial meeting with Josh, but was far less talkative and animated than she normally is when she interacts with others, particularly adults. She normally puts on a one woman show.

            After dropping my nephew off, Kaitlyn, who’d been sitting in a back seat of my van, moved to the front passenger seat, continued coloring in her coloring book and, without looking up, asked me, “Ted, why is it that I get shy, and won’t sing along to my favorite songs on the radio when some people are around”? I paused for a moment, as I often do when asked a question, but with little thought responded, “probably because you’re worried that someone won’t like you” My response to her made me think about how often I don’t speak, look around, sing, comment, engage, dance, and generally fail to be myself, whoever I am, because I’m worried that someone will won’t like me. Answering her made me realize how important it is to get to where I don’t care what others think of me.

            My nephew would likely not have been put off had Kaitlyn sang along loudly to Selena Gomez or Miley Cyrus, both of whose music she loves. I doubt that he would have become irritated had Kaitlyn engaged him in some goofy conversation, as she often does with adults. Even if she’d clamored for attention that he didn’t want to give her, he’d have smiled and humored her until he arrived at his destination. He’s a kind man. I’m proud of that. The fact that a seven year old asks that question, however, is evidence that human beings put a premium on being liked, even by complete strangers.

            Why, though, do we give a shit whether others, including strangers, like us? Truth is we worry about being criticized and/or being judged by others, as if we can avoid it, when the fact is that judgment and criticism are unavoidable realities of life. Someone will criticize and judge you for the entirety of your life. What we all need to discover is the proper response to being disliked.

            We need to like ourselves.  Human beings have the tendency to strive to be liked at the expense of individual authenticity. As certified holistic professional Tara Crawford Roth states in her piece entitled Why Do We Need To Be Liked?, “at the root is a self judgment that somehow we are lacking, we are not good enough”. When we live in that judgment, we exist only in the small space of your heads, and we are plugged into that weakness. Staying plugged into that weakness prevents us from developing and sharing who God and life has made us with the rest of the world.

            It’s important to share your authentic self with others because there is no one else on earth who is you. At the very least, we were created to meet, observe, teach, and learn from one another. If you hide your self from others, even for the sake of being liked, no one can learn from you. Josh might know someone who would cast Kaitlyn in a local commercial, which could lead everywhere for her, her mother, and her sister, but how would he know how charismatic she is if she’s afraid to show it?

            Being liked is a pleasure that all human beings desire and strive for. We all want to be liked. Right or wrong, we covet it. Being liked, however, is worthless if we are not free to be ourselves. Instead of wasting time worrying about being liked, do as Kaitlyn normally does, and sing, loudly and enthusiastically, to strangers.

Copyright2012Ted’sBigIdeas

What to do when God breaks your heart

I picked up the copy of Ed Underwood's book When God Breaks Your Heart and considered reading it, but I'm tired of self-help books.

I also know better. While I agree with Ed's use of biblical principles and personal revelations to impart lessons, God has broken my heart so many times that I can't take the reminder.I know what to do when God breaks your heart, though I didn't intend to to know. I'm human. I don't want to learn God's lessons when I'm suffering. I want relief.

Alas, suffering, even long, chronic suffering is a part of life. If you haven't had the 'privilege' of suffering in that way, you will. Live long enough.

God will break your heart.

When you exercise religiously, eat right, don't smoke or drink or do anything that motherfuckers say you shouldn't do, and then become the first of your friends to get the cancer diagnosis.

When you study for the Bar exam and fail it three straight times. I know a woman who made all A's throughout high school and college, earned induction into Phi Beta Kappa, and flunked that motherfucker six times. Talk about heart breaking. She's about 56 today. She finally passed it about fifteen years ago, and today is a successful partner in a bankruptcy law firm

When you lose your high-five to six figure job, your wife leaves you, and the only work you can find is a Walmart, where you earn a third of what you did. Does it get any worse than working at Walmart? No offense. I've worked there.

You ever suffered so through a circumstance for a long time, prayed faithfully for Gods intervention, and He took so long to move in your relief that you wondered if He existed?

Job did too. Job, whose story is located in the bible between the book of Esther and the book of Psalms, was referred to as, "blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil". He had seven sons, three daughters, seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred donkeys, and a large number of servants. He was called the greatest man of the people of the East.

A B.C. (before Christ) baller with a heart gold. WHERE does a guy like him exist? This guy would offer sacrifices to God in anticipation of of his kids sin, for their forgiveness.

Essentially, in the span of one day, God, at Satan's request, allowed Satan to kill all of his children and servants, carry off all of his livestock, and inflict Job with painful sores from head to toe.

How many people do you that would endure that and not want to die? See, we claim to love life so much, but what if your life becomes really fucked, without repair, for a long ass time? Something to think about, huh? If God will break the heart of a 'blameless' man, you know he'll break your lying, scheming, cheating, murdering, drugging, selfish heart.

Afterward, three of Jobs friends visited him, tried to console him but he's angry and lashes out at them. They then scold him, he curses the day he was born, his wife tells him to, "curse God and die", he wishes for his death, is scolded by God, and repents.

The book gives no definite account of how long Job endured this time in his life, but at one point he says, "man born of woman his of few days and much trouble". How long would you have to suffer, and how much would it have to hurt for you to say that?

The way we worship life, probably a long fucking time.

Eventually God restored Job, and in the latter part of his life gave him fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys. Job also sired seven more sons and three more daughters, who were referred to as the most beautiful women in the land. God gave him, "twice as much as he had before".

You know what to do when God breaks your heart? Wait.

Copyright2011Ted'sBigIdeas

Certified

ALL women are pieces of shit.

It's inevitable that at some point in your relationships with women, sooner than you think, that you are going to be cheated, lied to, deceived, manipulated, conned, robbed, slandered, misled, abused and, in the worst case scenario, killed.

Women are depicted as the victims of men, particularly in North American culture, but women are EVERY BIT whatever they call men. Ounce for ounce.

I'd LIVED that, certified, by age thirty, but I didn't want to face it. I have no choice but to do so now, and I'm the guy who always defended women when guys bashed them.

In spite of this, I love women, perhaps tragically. And I'd never imply that men are shitless.

It always comes back to "serve"

Everytime I get ready to complain about what I don't have or I need, what I want, what I'll "settle" for and the like, God leads me to some scripture, remembrance or circumstance which instructs or reinstructs me to serve.

Before I get too far gone in complaint, depression, bitching and the will to just "give this shit up", He tells me to get over it and serve. Every time.

You know how it is when you've exhausted all the effort that you can, used up every resource, done the "right" thing (whatever the hell that means at the time), climbed every mountain, prayed every prayer, been prayed for, cried, screamed, hit shit, wished for your death and your world still won't turn?

I've been there so many times in the past seventeen years that it's seems ridiculous, and still, when ALL I'm asking for is a little relief, a bit of due process, some fucking fairness, God will simply say, "serve".

I was working for my father, a contractor, until July of 2007, when he abruptly and bittterly fired 90 percent of his work force, including myself. He didn't want to pay us anymore. He got shot years back, is now at least 40 percent paralyzed, and thus can't function the way he did. His ass is bitter about it too, so much so that he began systematically dissolving his business early last year.

He'd turn down generous, prosperous contracts because he didn't feel like running them, when I and the crew could have done the job, made him his doe, and made a good profit ourselves. He began receiving payouts for completed projects and, God only knows why, stiffing employees for their rightful salaries, claiming that he is a "sick" man, and can't afford that kind of money. You do shit like that after a guy has worked hard all week? You could get killed, which I and some others had to stop a guy or two from doing a time or two.

At any rate, I couldn't find employment in the month following my separation from my pop, and I still haven't found part or full time employment. I prayed that God would provide me with not only a new job, but as gainful a job as possible, and one that would glorify Him that I work. I then got out everyday and looked for work. You know? I did what I'm supposed to do.

It's March 10, 2008, nearly 7 months after I began praying and looking, and I'm still not employed. Can you believe it? How many of you would have said "screw" God by now? Yeah, I want to too, but..............(laughing). Aside from odd jobs editing for family members in school, and a little yard work, nothing. Can you believe that shit?

I bought a new car early 2007. It wasn't my dream car, but with my credit, it gave me leverage to build credit and eventually buy the car or cars that I really want. As a result of unemployment, my insurance elapsed in December. I couldn't pay it! (Aggggh!!!!!) I'd pray and say, "okay father, what are we doing here? How am I going to pay the car note? What if I get hit? What are you/I going to do? I look for work everyday"! Nothing.

Well, about a month ago, I was hit, without insurance, and now I have a car that needs repair to run, and I can't pay for the damn thing! Do you have any idea?

You know, though, I haven't missed a meal, I've bought needed clothes and shoes, I have paid on the car, which has at least pacified the finance company, I've traveled, bought some Christmas gifts and, in spite of my pain, I've laughed. Can you imagine mustering a laugh now? (laughing) I'm here in spite of my misfortune, and I'm going to be okay.

God has and does tell me to serve at times like this, to give time and attention to other's needs, to be willing to see what other's are going through in their lives, to get outside myself and set myself up to help someone else be successful. It brings tears to my eyes to say these things in lieu of what I'm going through, but it's true. That rhymes, huh? The scripture, among others, that God reminds me of is Matthew 23:11, which says, "the greatest among you will be your servant". Now I'm crying.

One day, I'll drive any car I want to drive, own a high rise apartment overlooking the Hudson river on one side and Central Park on the other, pay off all my debt, employ other's gainfully (translation: their asses will be well paid), go anywhere in the world, generally when I want to and make other lives better with the resources and connections that I will have.

I'll remember these days though, and when shit doesn't go my way, and I get ready to tell God how pissed, disappointed and exhausted of His shit I am, I'll recall that I can make in spite of my odds. I'll know that it always comes back to "serve".

I was humbled because they prayed

The new year always brings a new crop of recruits to gyms all over our world who have made resolutions to get in shape. Wonderful! I love it when people who are unhappy with their level of fitness and/or body type decide to do something about it. It's beautiful to see people change.

Even though I'm a guy who's always been athletic, and who only once, for four months of my life was overweight (and it was muscle mass), I empathize with those of us who do struggle with poor health and/or excessive weight. All of us struggle with some weaknesses or deficiency in our lives, and as a result I can understand the struggles of the fitness challenged.

Yesterday, while working out at my gym, I observed two young women who I'd seen a few days before, but not at any other time during the three years that I've been a member of this facility. They're both attractive, African American women who look to be in their mid-twenties, and are both overweight. Apparently, they decided to begin an effort to get in better shape in the new year, and possibly, to do it together.

I've observed them walk the track and on treadmills, stretching, and working out on Nautilus weight machines, but yesterday they did something that I believe trumps anything movement that they can EVER perform in their fitness efforts, and it touched me more than ANYTHING I've ever seen ANYONE do while working out: I was humbled because they prayed.

They both stepped onto treadmills positioned aside one another and, before beginning their walk, they prayed. I couldn't hear anything specific, but I imagine their prayer went something like this: "Lord thank you for this time to work out, in order to get in better shape. Thank you for the wonderful facility and the equipment that is provided for us to use in this effort. Thank you that we have the privilege of working out together, to encourage one another and help each other to reach our goals. Help us to do our best today".

I don't know what they prayed, but I know that it will change their lives.

In a world that still touts "survival of the fittest", and in which gyms are filled with ultra fit folk who bend, jump, stretch, lift and sweat in such a way that it seems like some art form, and who often go through their lives as if those not as fit as them are somehow inferior to them (we've all seen or BEEN the type), these two chicks changed the landscape of our gym by asking God to help them discover the athlete in them.

No showboating there. No muscle flexing for oneself. No bragging about how fast they can run a mile or how limber they are. Just, "Lord, help me to even give a damn", or something like that.

I've often prayed before I began my workouts, but not always, thanking God for the privilege and asking for Him to strengthen me on days when I didn't feel like the shit, but I'd never seen anyone else do it.

I'm so thankful to have seen them do it, and that those around us saw them too. Somehow, it might change our focus from how "fit and fine we are outside" to how beautiful God desires that we be inside as well.

If you can understand where I'm coming from, you understand that I was humbled when they prayed.

When she was fine

It's a problem I never had. I was never that dude that all the chicks swoon over, the one who every woman wants and says to other's, "girl, that dude is just ssssssssssssssssss". Not that I ever really saw what the big deal was about the guys who were held in such esteem. Most of them were just regular dudes, whose breathes stank, skin was fucked up upon further review, and who were just as unsure of themselves as the ugly ducklings, like me.

Don't get me wrong, because I'm no hater. If a guy is a good looking guy, I have no problem acknowledging that, and if women swoon over a guy, I'm not offended by it. I've never been that insecure! However, some of the men who women have designated "super fine" over the years have really been just regular, every day guys. Denzel Washington looks like another good looking guy off any city street, and David Haselhoff is that hunky gym teacher in a high school in most towns. Be for real! (laughing)

So it was really funny to me when I heard her repeatedly refer to the time, "when she was fine". What does it mean to say "when I was fine"? What were you like when you were fine? Why aren't you fine anymore? How has your significance changed, now that you're no longer fine? Can you ever be fine again? Does fine apply to you when you're 70 years old?

She told me that a few years ago, when she was "fine", guys never looked at who she is as a person, and that they only saw her amazing physical form. Then, no man wanted to talk with her, get to know her, and befreind her. No, when she was fine, they only wanted to fuck her. This is a very intelligent young woman, who has a lot to say, and can provide much fuel to add to the mixtures of great invention. In short, this chick can get you off and help you get your idea to Congress.

Why, then, does she long for that days when all guys saw was her body? She's gained a few pounds over the past few years, and is not what she'd call "fine" anymore. Now, she says, that men look at her, "intelligence, leadership, business savvy, and expertise", but that kind of recognizance alone just doesn't make her smile the way that she though it would.

It would be so great if she was that fine again, AND men admired her mental and intellectual beauty! The reality is, however, that we live in a world were men often could care less about what a woman has to say in the classrooms and boardrooms of the world. Rather, what really interests men is what a woman has to say in the bedrooms of our world. That's funny, huh?

So is a broad not fine if she's not so fine physically anymore? If a chick, or a guy for that matter, is not slim, svelte, trim, lean or "model" slim anymore are they therefore not fine? What about the kindness that a girl possesses? Does it mean anything that a man lends a helping hand to those around him who need help? Is not a woman's work ethic a quality that is considered beautiful? Though we live in a really hasty, impatient world, don't we all find it really attractive when we're standing in a line and, while everyone else bitches, there's this one guy who just smiles politely and waits his turn (I'm usually that guy)?

Think about it. What does it mean to be "fine", and if it only refers to physical beauty, who of us will be fine forever? Can you be considered fine when you're 97, and your skin hangs like it was stretched like puddy (if that's how you end up looking!)?

I think we all need to redefine the word fine in our minds to allow for it's meaning relative to our circumstances. Fine is anything that is good about us. Don't you think? Won't you think about that?

Maybe our aforementioned girl never needs be nostalgic about what her identity was, "when she was fine". Maybe she'll find that she carries that identity with her throughout her whole life.

And hopefully a time will come when she'll never again think about what life was like, when she was fine.

Why did he get married?

Last Saturday, my cousin got married. Why the hell would a twenty-eight year old, college educated, progressive, community oriented, I guess decent looking guy get married? I'm in no way anti-marriage, but life being what it is, and I've definitely lived, I have to question it.

Let's be real about this thing called marriage. The bible encourages (not instructs) us not to do it, so serious hitches must exist concerning it, what we know not withstanding. So what do we know about marriage?

Typically, people get married with the hope that their partner will love them forever, but, even in dating, person's love tends to grow cold when they're not getting their way. What the hell does getting ones way have to do with a relationship? How can one person always get their way in a relationship? And, since marriage is the ultimate relationship, and people do want their way, why get married?

Two, marriage gets all fucked up by money. If we married because we are in love, why do one in every two marriages end in divorce, with money issues generally being the culprit? I know that the ability to support a family and afford a comfortable life is important, and because that's so, why are men and women always warring about money?

Men are generally up in arms about spending money and women about what money is not being spent. Really though, what business does doe have interfering with marriage? You could be loaded at once, and broke another time as a single man or woman, and you damn sure stand the chance of being as broke as you are wealthy in marriage. So, what role does money play in marriage?

Finally, marriage seems to rob men and women of their sense of self. He stops hanging out with his friends, she stops spending time with girlfriends, and they both stop being comfortable in their own skin. You ever observe married couples? Man, there's more pretense and acting going on in marriages than on day time soap operas, and in real life, no one is getting paid as well for it.

Most married couples, particularly African American ones, sit around watching each other. Thats what the marriage comes to be about: the two of them, coming home each day from work to guard one another. What the fuck for? That's a another discussion, but you get the point, don't you?

Which leads me back to my cousin. Like his parents, he's pretty conservative. They began dating in high school, married not long after graduation, and were together until 7 years ago. Nearly thirty years. It set a precedent for him. His learning disability caused him to have to work harder than most for his BA in Communications, and helped to ground him. He DJ's at a local gospel radio station. He's a "good boy" by todays standards.

Maybe his character is such that hes not been jaded by life, not been ruined in his head and heart by seeing and learning too much of life's bullshit. Maybe he's not littered with pretense, and thus will approach life with his new wife with an innocence lacking in most today. Maybe that innocence has equipped him to love himself and his wife unconditionally. Marriage will challenge that. Maybe he can give and take money in such a way that edifies he and his wife. Maybe he'll be himself and protect that freedom, whether or not his wife does. Maybe he's the ideal candidate for marriage, a cat who really does have a chance to be happily married.

Hopefully, I'll never have to sit wondering, "why did he get married"?