Worst EneME

Was talking to a friend about confidence/swagger/what not and its limitations a few days back. At least what I thought its limitations were. I thought that confidence without limits was vanity. I also felt that my confidence was dictated and limited by how I was perceived me to be, physically, mentally, otherwise. But then my friend shut me down with this: "U shouldn't let another person's philosophy dictate ur esteem and worth." Simple enough, right?

But then it sunk in yesterday after church. One of my pastors was giving me a pep talk, bringing light to my God-given gifts and talents, and how the responsibility to let them flourish was on me. Simple words again to me: "Can't Nobody stop me but me." So let it be known. My enemy for years has been me. It's about time for that inner fight to end.

Below is something I wrote a few months back. Poetic piece called "Mirror Mirror..". I thought it fit perfect with this entry.

________

“Each one of us requires the spur of insecurity to force us to do our best.” - Harold W. Dodds

Waking up every day, greeted by a new sunrise.
Stumbling half-sleep to the mirror. There's your face.
I don't despise it,
But sometimes, I see things I could replace.
Is it foolish to even notice the things you wish looked better?
What truly motivates our desires for self-improvement? Is it a necessity to survive or something we eventually flaunt?
Is it a desperate need or a selfish want?
Why must I squeeze into the size 34 when what fits is the 38?
Do we wanna look great? Hmm...do we want others to validate that?
So we don't feel as fat as society says we are?

Insecurities lies deeper than the cellulite on your frame,
twisted up in that grey matter that we call a brain.
So as a man thinks in his heart, so is he.
So do my self-defacing thoughts dictate the image that I see?
You're smart, you're gifted, you're handsome, you smile.
You're wise like a preacher, but goofy like a child.
So why all this fuss about this insecure stuff?
Just be who God made you, bulky or buff...
that outer don't matter, it's mostly for show.
But if your heart's truly genuine, your real friends will know.

What friends? Don't have many...could count them on my hand.
But if I needed more than one (hand), would that guarantee more fun?
Not really. I've been a part of a group of friends, a family. A posse.
But then things really did get lonely, especially when that "family" decided to disown me.
But why am I still concerned about friend quantity, when it's just a number?

Why am I asking all of these questions? Am I trying to confuse myself?
Am I confused? Am I alone feeling confused? Am I by myself?
Yeah, right. We all have insecure moments. Times when we think less of ourselves than we ought.
It's a feeling I know too well. But this time, instead of sulking, I fought.
Fought the urge to steal away, hiding from my own self-doubts.
But I can't keep lying to you and me, gotta let these doubts out.
So instead of breaking this mirror's glass, I'll stare at it some more.
Can't expect you to see much in me, if me seeing it is a chore.

Tic Toc...

Dedicated to my late grandfather, Bobby M. Brown, Sr. (April 20, 1942 – December 1, 2008)

Wow, it’s December already. Man, how a year flies by. It just seems like yesterday when I was awaken at 7am with the news. And with it, time seemed to pause for a moment.

Death has a way of forcing us to look at our lives under a microscope, especially when the one you lost is a part of who you are. Up until when my grandfather passed on this day last year, I had managed twenty years living without experiencing an immediate loss in my family. And truth be told, the dominoes couldn’t have fallen at a better time. I was going through a motion-led part of my life, one year removed from my academic fallout. Conceding an Ivy League education to work retail was not part of the plan, yet I was going along with it, each day an underachievement in the minds of my family and myself. My grandfather was really gone, yet mentally, I was just as dead – a living zombie taking for granted the purpose and life God created this body for.

So now, a year later, I pause again. As the rain trickles down my window, I can say that my shine in 2009 was shaded a bit by clouds I put there. Having made some moves in the right direction but not seeing them completely through. I have a love/hate relationship with my job. While I’m grateful to have one, let it be known that when I am able to quit, I won’t ever return to retail again. My paycheck being at the mercy of store sales is the worst feeling. Can’t say the same for all my co-workers, but I don’t have to be stuck there the rest of my life. It all depends on me though. I just gotta make it.

The junior college I started taking classes at in January was as beneath me as the grades I got there that semester. LOL that’s not the best mindset to have when trying to progress. My thoughts were the exact opposite as a Yale student. Second-guessing whether or not I fit with such elite company, even though my admission there proved I belonged. Year one didn’t come as easily as it had before I got there. So I psyched myself out of believing that I was capable of succeeding—stopped going to a lot of my classes during my sophomore year, and shortly thereafter, stopped going to school there altogether (by force, of course). I had failed for the first time in a long time. Truth be told, it hurts to let an opportunity like that slip, but to downgrade what I expect from myself because of it would be worse. I see that now. I will be back at my junior college taking classes in January 2010, just trying to make something happen. Not going down without a fight.

So this woosah, this Selah, this pause of mine was necessary. Looking back, I see that used my time wisely in spots, and wasted it in others this year. Looking forward, I’m gonna make the effort not to let my miscues stop my movement, especially since they don’t stop the time. Despite the strings God pulls during the day-to-day, the seconds continue to tick. We must do the same thing. End the pause and press play! Be ble$$ed.