Whew, life is doing its thing over here! Just like the song says, “If it ain’t one thing, it’s another.” I’ve been in this holding pattern for the greater part of a year, waiting for deliverance from physical, emotional, and financial turmoil. I can barely breathe some days. I did finally come to terms with some physical stuff though. Put some plans in motion. We’ll see how it goes….
I look out at the world and it seems everybody’s got these selective lenses on. People are so enveloped in their self-imposed problems and focused on their chosen pursuits, they frequently step on toes or flat-out disrespect the next person, without any regard for how that person might feel as a result. Meanwhile, some of us are grieving something or someone, longing for a better time, and/or searching for reasons to stick around. Grief freezes everything in time and weighs on you so heavily, it’s like a physical weight that won’t allow you to breathe. That burn in your throat. The sick feeling in your stomach. The inability to get up and move about freely because you lack the desire to do or give anything….
I see you. I feel you. I’m sorry for your loss–whomever or whatever it was that left a huge hole in your life. I wrote a poem about it in 2013, when my brother Reggie had been in a coma for 3 1/2 years, then he passed. Talk about frozen in time… For me, it was ALL the feelings coverging at once, and the lonely feeling–like no one could POSSIBLY understand what I was feeling. I could not get myself together. And yet, I had no choice but to keep on living, mothering, working, trying. I wondered when I would find my smile again. Writing helped to process the feelings. I just wanted everything to slow down and be quiet. Mercy! Every sound, every voice, every action was so LOUD…. šš½ā¤ļø
I’ve been having this feeling again, so I went looking on Facebook for an old post that included that poem. It was eventually published in my last book, Timeless Thoughts Vol 3, I believe. I found comfort in my own words. Lots of thoughts about hard times, challenges I’ve overcome, etc. I survived every one of those. I’m undefeated to this point, you know? I was reminded how I used to worry specifically about HOW my problems would be solved, where the money or resources or help would come from to do this thing or that. You know, it’s tough being a dreamer AND all dependent on logic and reason. The struggle is real. The anxiety is real.
This whole Single Mama Saga, Dynamic Woman, #girlboss persona I wear may look manageable, but it’s very hard to do everything alone. And the resulting stress is counter-productive, so now I just ask God what he wants me to do next, where I should be right now, etc. “Where EXACTLY do you want me to put this right foot, Lord?” It’s so much more manageable when I turn it over and let him lead me.
Sometimes, it takes a while to get answers, though. I tend to get lost in my head at times like that because with the anxiety comes a list of questions I can’t answer on my own, and uncertainty that makes me feel insecure. Then the noise level rises, and I freak out, talking to myself like, What did I do? What was I thinking? What’s the plan now Floyd? They’re watching. They’re waiting. They’re laughing. They’re pointing. Or whatever anxiety tries to tell me so I miss my breakthrough that’s waiting on the other side of that attack.
True story, after years of one disaster after another, followed by my “epiphany” and one rescue after another, I finally learned a valuable lesson: When the answers don’t come right away and the research doesn’t fill in the blanks, just go sit down somewhere, breathe deeply and be quiet so you can hear. Eventually, the answers do come. It’s really that simple. Be quiet. It’s in those moments that I remember what he wants me to do. Maybe I’m not supposed to do anything. I remember my aunt asking if I’d ever seen the Joy Luck Club, and I often hear her voice as clear as a bell. She said one of the best messages she ever got was from that movie: “Sometimes, the best thing to do is nothing.”
In my quiet moments, I’m reminded of my purpose. I prayed for YEARS to find it. It’s not that you heard wrong or misunderstood just because the work is hard. Remember when Elijah wanted to end it all, but God gave him an assignment instead? Yeah, sometimes you get a project to work on so you don’t get in your own way while it’s worked out. If you’re especially difficult (or diligent) like I can be, the work needs to be challenging to keep you focused on that. Elijah did the work, and he also got a helper and companion in Elisha. He was able to carry on after all that.
I don’t know who needed to hear this today, but go somewhere, take a few deep breaths and be quiet so you can hear your answers. Look for them to show up in your daily activity. Listen for messages in what people say to you, and what information you consume during this time of focused listening. And don’t ignore that phone call. It has information you’ll need. Stay up. Keep going….āš¾ā¤ļø
Here’s the poem I promised you:
Iām only silent when I scream.
Mind racing, mental pacing–back and forth, crazy thoughts.
Whatās my purpose? How long am I here?
Got me nervous; deepest fears awakened, makin me paranoid,
nights devoid of sleep, days on edge, tryna keep it together.
Whenever Iām like this, just know that Iām pissssed…
Canāt find inner peace, unable to release whatās building inside me.
Praying that God will guide me
through the storm to the other side of this really bad dream.
Iām only silent when I scream.
‘Cause forming words is a chore;
The more I think, I slide to the brink of a total meltdown.
Havenāt felt down like this in a minute.
Hate when it gets bigger than me.
You gotta figure itās the epitome of misery–writing is supposed to be my therapy.
Days, weeks, months of uselessness;
what kind of abuse is this that robs me of my voice, my life?
My ability to write is as important as my sight.
No vision, no passion, no mission, no action,
no movement, no progress; just stress–untilā¦
according to His will, grace and mercy descend,
bring my nightmare to an end.
Slowly the light begins to glow, then it grows to a full beam.
Trouble donāt last always, or so it would seem.
‘Cause Iām only silent when I scream.
From the mind of:
Tonya D Floyd
Author | Real Estate Professional | Lifestyle Consultant