Wise Men Vs. Mad Men

A balance. Must man always find a balance? I wonder about this as I sit in my living tonight room with my partner. We are two totally different people. He is wise and I am mad. He moves deliberately and I move without much real thought or care. I give way to my mood swings and he is the total opposite. The mood he awakes in, in the morning is the mood he will more than likely remain in for the rest of the day. Of course, there are a few exceptions.

I was reading the bible tonight (Proverbs) and people with my huband's wisdom seems to be highly favored. In fact, the bible gives a lot of advice to men and women who succumb to their passions. It says that we are under the control of something --or somebody. I for one, believe that. Personally speaking, I am a slave to several different things; so is my husband but in many holy books his methods of doing things are still preferred over mines. Why is that?

In my most honest personal opinion, the wise man is the chosen one because he causes very little confusion and has the uncanny ability to please all parties involved in a dispute or altercation. Who wouldn't want that? Every person I know can appreciate the fact that there is someone who can sit down, listen to almost any argument, disagreement or discussion and not only see the views of every person involved but also UNDERSTAND what it takes to keep all interested parties satisfied. He is a rarity, and to be celebrated.

I can tell you from experience this is not the way that matters are handles by passionate people. We operate from a very selfish stand point. Many of us actually believe the way we think is the ONLY way to think. I love Hermann Hesse books, but can tell you if you were to talk to him he would probably appear overly confident and self absorbed. It really takes an unique soul to believe that their way is the only way to live, function and thrive in the world. Not everyone can do it. Not every man will have his or her own philosophy. If they do, not all will profess it like it is The Only Truth.

Wise men know better and that is why certain books like Proverbs in the bible make a lot of sense. Buddha, Ghandi, Martin Luther King Jr. and the works of women like Mother Teresa normally strike a cord with me and I'd imagine it would be the same for others. I admire people who understand the importance of patience, people, peace and love. Many times they are the people whom we wild creatures go to for our own dose of "wisdom." Kenny is my sounding board which I could never do without. He endures the ups and downs and I dish them out. All in all he is my rock.

I will admit, there is a certain appeal to a wise person. They are slow to judge. This one fact puts them in a category all by themselves and keeps them surrounded with both dedicated and loyal friends. The mad man can not say the same and that is why you have more wild self imposed hermits. Those with the fire will eventually burn out because the energy he puts out is rarely reciprocated. Wise men do not run off into the mountains of Switzerland like the most passionate men but dies amongst his people.

It has nothing to do with ego either. Kenny may be wise but he has an ego. I've seen it. But at the same time, that is what makes him so great; he masters it.

I must admit I am also in awe of writers such as Oscar Wilde who said, "We teach people how to remember, we never teach them how to grow." The more feral and liberated the individual the more I am attracted to them. I despise consistency, boredom and lack of imagination. Structure and details gives me a headache but not the wise man.

All in all, I probably make more mistakes than my husband who evaluates everything, unlike me who jumps in head first...but I like the way I live. I enjoy the person I have become. In many ways, I toy with life and take almost everything for granted. I am the spice of the universe.

But wisdom is the key that is needed in life.

John Burroughs - Look Under Foot

"The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is "look under foot"
You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of your power than you think.
The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive.
The great opportunity is where you are.
Do not despise your own place and hour.
Every place is under the stars, every place is of the world."

John Burroughs

Langston Hughes: Dreams & A Dream Deferred

I heard Bro. Sunship from Assata's Forum say this: "I ponder over and over again what Langston Hughes so eloquently alluded to in prose, “what eventually happens when a dream is deferred?”

Could oppression, repression, our diets, some of our most caustic music, let alone the schizo way we have to relate to this bastardize reality finally metastasize into a nurturing of mental illness in some socio-psychological sense over time?

Can hundreds of thousands of years of our brains being developed in a certain conducive and natural environment be finally finding it impossible to ward off, or assimilate into, or decipher this racist exilic madness called, western civilization?

How long did we think Africans (the original people) could survive under another’s cultural behaviorisms, which we see is further distorting man’s relationship to the natural and the spirit world?"

Every time I read those paragraphs I feel a deep punch to the gut. I have thought long and hard on this topic --what happens when a dream is deferred? Have you ever thought about it? I have, and too often I see that the people without dreams, faith and determination check out early. It's hard to reach them.

A DREAM DEFERRED

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes


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DREAMS

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Langston Hughes

PS. If anybody is interested in Brother SunShip's full comment let me know and I will do the necessary digging and get it back to you.

Ain't I A Woman

Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all this here talking about?

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman?

Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women's rights or negroes' rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn't you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say.

A Poem For My Mother

Her hair is very long, luscious, dark and wavy...when gathered together in your hands it smells as if the earth conspired with her sometime ago...and agreed to show her favor...her skin gives off the appearance of butter milk...wet and youthful...like dew... mysterious to all of those around her...including herself...her smile spoke of what could have been...days before...her demeanor was always luke warm...she haunted the daydreams of those that desired to penetrate deeper but would always be forbidden.

she's very unique.

each time I fall asleep.

I desire to know more about my mother.

Dedicated to Sister Seeking: And to Any Other Woman Who Seeks

And like that it's all over. I've exhausted all possibilities with my relatives and came up empty-handed with nothing to show for it either. No more, guys. If you are one of the very few people brave enough to stop the cycle of abuse, break all ties to any of your family members who are unwilling to get professional help. There is nothing you can do for them. They will always see themselves as victims.

Here are a few of the many comments that have changed my mind. If you care to, you are more than welcomed (and even encouraged) to follow the discussion here at: http://muslimbushido.blogspot.com/2008/09/reality-check-what-black-underclass-is.html

First, let me give you a little background on what I am talking about. A while back I posted a blog entry titled, Why I Can't Just Pull An Antwon Fisher. It was written because I was still emotionally attached to my siblings and to my mother. I knew I needed to do something extreme as Antwon did but at that time I was still emotionally chained. But G-d knows my heart.

Yesterday I read the very first comment below and it put me on the spot. It was like holding a mirror up at myself. Then I woke up and read the remaining comments that I'll share with you. I have been in a daze ever since.

Sister Khadija made this comment: "It sickens me when people are shocked when I say the following: Once I find out that a woman is dating, affiliating, or whatever with a man who is a sexual predator, I cut that woman off. Completely. I don't care who they are. Or who they USED TO BE to me.

This comment forced me to admit that my mother and siblings should have NO contact with any of the men that molested me. None what so ever. But they do…they all do.

And sister Khadija also made this comment: "The mothers who've allowed their children to be molested viewed themselves as victims. Everything is always all about them. No matter what they have done, they see themselves as the "true" victims in every situation."

Want me to tell you something? I just spoke to my mother last year about still having dealings with one of the jerks who molested me, and she told me I was being selfish and only thinking about myself because she needed him to help out of a physical altercation with her husband. She called the man who----

Sister Seeking said this: "I know first hand by intimate personal experience that when you do view them as victims you reinforce their world view. I'd like to add something else to that: when a whole group of people buy into the victimization scandal it punishes innocent by standards. Case and point: when I terminated my mothers parental rights I was emotionally bullied by all my biological family members as being "selfish" " ungrateful" "hateful" and get this: "IMPATIENT."

This comment hit home with me because since I came back from visiting my family in Philadelphia this past May, I have been emotionally bullied by my mother's support team because I can not just "forgive" her. People in my family has this sick notion that I should just be more grateful and less selfish.

Sister Seeking: "Saying all of this to say: I don't have a bond with ANY of my biological family members because of their refusal to get professional help which is free as well as their refusal to take personal responsibility and manage their life."

I'll let this statement stand alone.

Sister Seeking: "Do you know what I believe brought us to our place of rest today? In addition to G-d's mercy, I believe that people like us have a certain degree of rebelliousness--a higher level of resilience that was present from birth on. From a preschooler on, I always knew something was terribly wrong with my family, and childhood. From early on I developed a protest spirit refusing to be beat down or beat up by other people. My defiance or " oppositional disorder" was not a result of mental illness, drugs, or the desire to rebel against authority--it was my innate disposition to rebel against oppression, and just pure evil. The flame inside me never has died. This is why I recognized early on that I was going to become another statistic if I didn't get out of the foster care system--and fast. This is why I terminated my mothers parental rights. And today with only a meek, and humble heart to the Almighty can a truly declare victory becuase I refused to pissed on, and defecated on by people. I did waver but my anger motivated me to fight back."

I'm done guys. Just like that it's finished. I have no ties with any of my biological family on my mother's side. I can't tell you what it's like but it is different. I am even really proud of myself for this last step because my elder was not here when I took it. These comments really resonated with me in such a way I walked right out of bondage. Just walked out of the chains. I'll remember this day for the rest of my life.

Imani Uzuri

I was thinking about keeping this a blog where I focus strictly on overcoming abuse, but part of overcoming is smiling, dancing and reaching out to others. With that being said, I really think is one of the world's greatest artist. Her name is Imani Uzuri. Her album is titled, Her Hold Water: A Black Girl's Rock Opera. Check her out here: http://www.myspace.com/herholywater

She' really nothing like I've ever heard before. She has this one song on her cd titled, Ishi. That song is perfect. I really hope you guys enjoy this video. The title of this song is Sun Moon Child.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Evu2JMLwNak&feature=related