Practicing Gratitude and Celebration

For our family, the first week of November is a full one, immersed in celebration and love. During November 8-14, we celebrate two birthdays and an anniversary. No, we didn't plan it this way, if that's what you're going to ask. It just is what it is. This year was a bit different. Between our sons' milestone birthdays (Jax age 14 and Jupiter age 2) and our 15th anniversary, we felt a bit of pressure. Considering how 2020 started and the celebration and gratitude that we both wanted to share, we subconsciously felt immense pressure to do the most. For the boys' birthdays, we didn't feel comfortable doing a birthday party due to COVID-19 cases rising again here in Los Angeles. We also couldn't figure out where we wanted to go for our anniversary. We both felt the pressure. Where did we land? I'm glad you asked. Here are a few takeaways on embracing gratitude and letting go of the pressure to do the most.

1. Our therapist applauded us on our grit and commitment to each other during our most recent therapy session. She shared that this week's goal would be to release the pressure of performing some grand gesture of celebrating 15 years. The celebration is simply the showing up with intention and that our anniversary was not confined to one day, and that we make the rules. So, we both decided to plan a getaway in January.

2. The boys' birthdays were the sweetest this year. Jax got his long-coveted jazz bass guitar and amp. Jupiter received more wooden building blocks to knock over. Yes, I am sure that both boys (and us too) would have loved to hang out with our friends, cutting a birthday cake, and celebrating our boys. However, this year we had something even more special. Jon and Jax stayed up all night watching The Matrix movies and eating vegan cobbler. In Jax's eyes, that was better than any birthday party (well, sort of; he's still a teenager).

3. This morning, I woke up to an online conversation between Alicia Keys and Deepak Chopra. They were discussing gratitude. Chopra shared the practice of living in gratitude and how it's different from merely thinking "happy thoughts" or ignoring reality. He shared that living in gratitude is taking an intentional moment, thinking of all the things you are grateful for, and basking yourself within the celebration of it all.

Lastly, I know that times can feel heavy. The way 2020 started for our family felt like nothing short of a dumpster fire. However, I have been in constant awe of how hard times never last always + how joy cometh in the morning. Keep going. Keep pressing. Keep doing the work. It's going to be ok. 

My Body Is Mine

When I was in sixth grade, I wanted to look like "Michelle." (Let's call her that for identity sake) She was the light skin girl with hazel eyes. She had reached puberty eons before either myself or the other little girls in our classroom. We all bowed at the throne of this girl. All the boys liked her. All the girls wanted to look like her, including myself. I remember looking down at my shirt, wanting boobs to magically appear and my body to change. I was short and lanky and dark skinned with dark eyes. Growing up, I personally liked my dark skin. However, it wasn't always celebrated. My dark skin, nose, and crooked smile were all a reminder of my biological father. Perhaps a painful reminder to those whom he had been affected by his violence and abuse. As a child, I looked more like him, than my mother.

I remember telling my mother, that I wanted my body to look like "Michelle's" body. I wanted to have hips and butt and boobs. She reminded me that I was in sixth grade, and that I had MY body. She said that my body would change and blossom into this womanly form that possessed curves resembling my mother, and her mother before her. I waited. My body changed. However, it remained lanky and short. Truthfully, to this day, I don't have hips and butt and curves for days. It simply is what it is.

When I contemplated doing this shoot, I returned to that 6th grade girl. What if all the women present were shaped differently than I? They were. What if, I was the only one with stretch marks on my belly and thighs? I wasn't. Prior to the shoot, I contemplated nursing while being photographed. I thought to myself, 'I will be ok nude, if I am breastfeeding, and hiding my insecurity behind my motherhood.' Was it possible for me to stand in my own womanhood, without a babe attached to my breast? Could I stand in this skin, alone? This body was carrying years of both self inflicted and environmental body shaming? It needed to stop. The fear and negative voices needed to stop. 

At the shoot, I stood with a blanket wrapped around me. Afraid to remove it. These women were beautiful. Their bodies perfect. As I continued to stand there (still with the blanket wrapped around my body), I saw these beautiful women laughing and embracing each other, as if they were clothed in diamonds. They turned to me and beckoned for me to join. I briefly tried to find a place where I fit... They quickly made room for me. They held space for me. Perhaps, they were on the same journey of reconnecting with their bodies? Perhaps they had been there before... For me, I wasn't quite sure when this insecurity began... But, I knew now is when it would end. 

My Self Care IS Activism

I am grateful. I am grateful for family and friends. I am grateful for healthy relationships and the ability to stay clear from toxicity. I am grateful for my home. I think it's clear… that there is a lot to be grateful for. However, yesterday as we gathered with loved ones, I couldn't help but feel heaviness. I felt heaviness that as we ate, Native Americans are still disrespected, tossed to the side, and stolen from. I felt heaviness that just a few weeks prior, our country elected a man that has disrespected people of color, the disabled, muslims, women, and the lbgt community. I felt heaviness for the families of Chattanooga, TN who lost their babes just a couple of days ago in a horrific bus crash. With that being said, there is a lot of healing that needs to take place. There is a lot of self care that needs to take place. However, how do we implement self care and self celebration in the midst of chaos? How do we stay inspired in the midst of personal and/or public calamity?

I truly believe that self care is a form of activism. To stand up in the midst of someone’s hate, and scream, “I am enough," is not only a form of activism, but self care. Self care isn't just taking a long bath; although pausing for self is necessary. Self care is decorating a poster and marching through the streets while affirming that black lives really do matter… because they do. Self care is not buying into the hype of Black Friday… opting out of standing in long lines to buy more stuff. Your worth is not in getting more stuff.

Self care is speaking the truth… your truth… because it is necessary. After the election, I was greeted via social media by people asking me to validate my frustration on racism and the election results. I spoke even louder. This blatant election of bigotry over unification spoke volumes. It should have rang loudly to those who had been in a deep slumber regarding racism in this country. Using your voice on whatever platform that you may have is a form of self celebration. When you use your voice to speak on things that matter, you proclaim your worth. When you use your privilege to influence others to change, you celebrate the fact that your words have power and value. They are not empty. 

Lastly, sometimes staying inspired, involves simply unplugging. No television, no electronics, just the sound of your breath and the wind blowing through the trees. These moments are necessary. I have found that when I take time to “unplug from the matrix,” I am able to return, revitalized and ready to speak, protest, and engage in much needed discussions. Reminding myself that in spite of the chaos, hate, and crazy, I am worthy and important.