Hope for the Weary

Happy Monday, peeps!  How I miss connecting with you all!  This blog thing falls short in that I can’t give you all a pound, a hug, a hip bump, or some other cool ass reunion gesture.  Oh well, we’ll settle for words then, right?

I’ve been slammed at the office, and focused on preparing for a couple of poetry performances.  With a not-so-gentle push from my inner circle–more like a pistol to the temple, really–I’ve taken a step out to share my work.  Fear and uncertainty be damned, I’m putting it all out there.  Don’t get me wrong, I was a shivering bitch. Guzzling red wine and fiddling with my afro,  I took the stage to join in The Tacoma Round last night at the the closing performance for the Broadway Center’s Fall Free for All. I carefully climbed the short staircase in my platform booties (complete with Dr. Scholl’s inserts of course), and offered T-town a little piece of my heart.

And damn if it didn’t feel good. Now in general I take great lengths to remain anonymous and cut off in my day to day activities.  I’m an introvert.  I have home training, I’m polite, engaged in the well being of my fellow humans, but small talk, socializing, and strangers scare the ever loving shit out of me.

Last night was different.  The energy of the crowd, my fellow performers (Shenandoah Davis, you are legendary), and what I can only describe as the presence and comfort of God, made a situation that would have previously emptied my bowels, feel like a homecoming.

Facing my fear gave me hope, and transformed my perspective on what I am capable of.  Powerful shit, right?  Folks showed love, and I was humbled and hopeful.  And hopeful is something I haven’t been for a little while.  Hanging on yes, but hopeful? No.

I’ve posted the pieces I shared on the Poetix page…I welcome your comments, but I prefer you adoration.  Just kidding…sort of.

I’m back in the swing, people.  Get at your girl.

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4 thoughts on “Hope for the Weary

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