You know that all-encompassing “they” that direct and control your life course, your choices, your happiness?
The “they” in “what will they say?” or “what will they think?”
But, they don’t live your life, do they?
Then why should their opinion matter as much as they do, or at all?
‘Cause, the reality is this:
If you spent your entire life aiming to please “they”, you still could not accomplish the feat. “They” have an insatiable/unquenchable appetite of opinions that you will never satisfy.
So … how do you get around these notoriously-negative-opinionated “they”?
First, with knowing you are uniquely you.
The path you take will be influenced by what is intrinsically you—your internal compass.
Second, love and trust yourself and your judgment.
Operate from that intuitive knowledge about who you are (starting with you’re a child of the Most High God) and what you really desire, then live by those terms.
And to top it off, add a good dose of perspective on the opinions of “they” and …
Dress—for you
Post that selfie—for you
Do that workout—for you
You get the picture, right?
Do you, not “they”, ‘cause only you have to live with the consequences of your decisions.
George Floyd your life mattered. Your death sparked a movement. We will not forget. (Your sunset: 25 May 2020)
I CAN’T BREATHE His voice reached back over 400 years to the belly of slave ships Summoning the plight of fore-mamas and -papas Black bodies snatched from homeland stacked up for export Crammed in places too cramped for air Constrained. Pressed. Till urine leaked, undignified Shackled and restrained from neck to feet Black bodies stretched out beneath deck, unseen
Too dark to see Too constrained to touch Too dense to be heard Too putrid to breathe in
I CAN’T BREATHE His voice reached back 46 years to the belly of his mamma To summon the space he’s always felt protected, safer Invoking relief from the indignity of shackled wrists Pinned under the knee-weight embodiment of bigotry and racist hatred 8 minutes:46 seconds Breath. Of. Life … deliberately snuffed out, stolen Black body stretched out for the world to view
Too riotous not to see Too palpable not to touch Too loud not to be heard Too blatant not to breathe in
I CAN’T BREATHE Ricocheted off sidewalks from cities and towns around the globe Escaped the lips of mamas, papas, sistas, brothas of every age, color and creed Galvanizing protests undaunted by a pandemic Bodies of all races stretched out, collective voices shout Demanding revolution, transformation, radical alteration
Too multi-ethnic not to see Too seismic not to touch Too forceful not to be heard Too copious not to breathe in
I CAN’T BREATHE Ignite change … too enormous not to see Ignite change … too radical not to touch Ignite change … too disruptive not to be heard Ignite change … too transforming not to breathe-in
Change.
So.
I.
Can.
BREATHE.
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Before-word: This is a paraphrase of a psalm penned by my best-Bible-friend, David (King of ancient Israel), as recorded in Psalms 139.
Dear God, investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand. I’m an open book to You; even from a distance, You know what I’m thinking. You know when I leave and when I get back; I’m never out of Your sight. You know everything I’m going to say before I start the first sentence. I look behind me and You’re there, then up ahead and You’re there, too— Your reassuring presence, coming and going. This is too much, too wonderful— I can’t take it all in! Is there anyplace I can go to avoid Your Spirit? to be out of Your sight? If I climb to the sky, You’re there! If I go underground, You’re there! If I flew on morning’s wings to the far western horizon, You’d find me in a minute— You’re already there waiting! Then I said to myself, “Oh, He even sees me in the dark! At night I’m immersed in the light!” It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to You; night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to You. Oh yes, You shaped me first inside, then out; You formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank You, High God—You’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! Like an open book, You watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before You. The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day. Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful! God, I’ll never comprehend them! I couldn’t even begin to count them— any more than I could count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with You! Investigate my life, O God, find out everything about me; Cross-examine and test me, get a clear picture of what I’m about; See for yourself whether I’ve done anything wrong— then guide me on the road to eternal life.
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Heart-eyes covered in love not seeing Lies sweetly wrapped in roses masking Revelation in actions there’s no denying Supple flesh like petals up-curling Heart breaks like cardiac arresting Chambers swirl blood fast pumping Soul from soul separate disconnecting Emotions escape like petals free-falling
T-shirts are arguable the most functional piece of clothing in our closets. More recently I’ve come across Tees used as signposts for thoughts/feelings/stance on a range of issues making them artistic creative statement apparels.
Statements like:
Unapologetically dope
I never lose, I either win or I learn
Periodt. [oh yeah, when the “t” is added (“periodt”), you know no further discussion will be tolerated]
I’m not for everyone
I love the skin I’m in
Classy but thou shalt not try me. Mood 3:65 [I really like this one, it’s feisty with a nod to “commandment”-level caution/warning]
You want my rhythm?! You gotta take my blues.
Black lives matter
So it seems whether solidarity or protest, whether reclaiming space or questioning narratives, the messages we champion on our chests can contribute to how we’re understood in the world.
Particularly when you’re part of any group that has been OTHERED in the mainstream, the message on a T-shirt is one way to articulate a point without a direct action (like the caveat to start what may otherwise be a difficult conversation).
Whether challenging racial inequality or promoting body positivity or questioning gender inequities, when you can mirror what you think/feel (emotional level) with words prominently worn on your chest/close to your heart (aesthetic level), it’s as if your WHOLE self culminates in your fashion choice.
If creativity is indeed intelligence having fun, as the wise Albert Einstein surmised, then what does the creative process looks like.
Well, for one—it’s messy!
But I recently read a HuffPost article which listed 18 things that highly creative people do differently. I post them here because I can relate and based on what I’ve seen from those whose blogs I’m interacting with, y’all would likely concur. So here goes:
Us creatives:
Daydream
Observe
Work the hours that work for us
Take me time/seek solitude
People-watch
Turn life’s obstacles around/“lemonade” makers
Ask the “big” questions/insatiably curious
Fail up—we got bouncebackability
Seek out new experiences
Take risks
Lose track of time
Surround with beauty
Shake things up/diversity
Self-express
Follow true passion
Make time for mindfulness
Imagine not just present but future, not just ours but others
Connect the dots/see possibilities/vision
Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things.
Before-word: As I’m spending more time building this blog, I’ve been thinking a lot about writing—the art of writing and the power of the written word. I love to write. And chances are if you’re on this site, you’re a blogger which means you also love to write. Or, you’re here because you love to read. Either way, I hope you enjoy this short piece where I share the reasons why I write and the value I place on the written word. As well as a poem along the same theme, “Writing Is”.
To as far back as I can remember, I wrote what I could not or wished not to vocally express. Words help me unlock what I think and feel subconsciously. And, writing is the process through which I can harmonize and connect my mind (inner thoughts and feelings) with lived experiences.
Writing is a powerful tool—it can create, influence, inform, and communicate. In fact, I’d say it’s arguably the best connector. Writing connects us to each other and it connects stories, experiences and cultures across time and space. When you read the writings of a writer from eons past, for instance, it allows you into her/his mind and into the experiences of that period. In this way writing transcends time.
Writing allows for creative self-expression reflective of the state we’re in. Ideas and experiences change as we grow and what’s once written can be updated with our evolved thoughts, expounding on the past and being influenced by the present.
Because the written word immortalizes thoughts and feelings, as a writer I know I must be authentic. Authenticity requires vulnerability, transparency and truth—first to myself and then to the subject at hand. And writing in this way requires bravery. Bearing all of this in mind when I write, gives my voice a trustworthy platform that I hope readers discern.
When all is said and done though, I write for this one reason: so that my voice does not die within me unexpressed and unheard!
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. Maya Angelou
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I did this exercise (writing to my younger self) a few years ago and revisited it recently. I found it therapeutic and fun! It’s a good way to explore your relationship with yourself, to reconnect to points in your past and use that connection to inform positive changes for your now and your future.
Have you done this exercise? If not and you’d like to, here are a few tips to get you through it:
Start by choosing a period in time or age and try to recall the major experiences of that time. As your memories unfold, also connect to the emotions they evoke.
Think of what advice the you today would give the you at that age. You could give tips on how to not “sweat the small stuff” and also encouragement to face challenges.
This is a good exercise to find self acceptance and also to boost your self esteem. To get the greatest value, lean into the emotions that you feel, don’t judge just allow yourself to feel. You may journal these emotional feelings and do so with intention. Intentionality means seeing how you can shift the perceptions around those old emotions and open space for healing.
Instead of ruminating negatively, do so with gratitude. Look for ways you have grown or what lessons can be learned to be a more resilient you.
Be sure to affirm you and speak with love and acceptance.
Your life is a journey. You cannot change the past but you can learn from it and grow. This exercise is one fun way to do that.
I believe no experience goes to waste, instead we can learn and grow from them.
Before-word: This piece was written in response to the following questions I’ve been asking myself in the wake of protests to social injustice across the globe: How many times can a people be stretched before their elasticity is extended beyond its capacity to bounce back and they snap instead? What do you do when as a people you feel you’re losing your ability to bounce back?How much longer can a people hope when they see no signs of change but distress, oppression, mistreatment, hurt and abuse instead? What do you do when as a people you feel forgotten, forsaken and left hoping for hope?
If likened to a clay pot that falls, breaking is inevitable. And like broken clay, discarding is also inevitable. Or if efforts are made to put it back together, the cracks will be evident and the original beauty seems lost. Scarred. Scarred for life. No longer fit for display.
The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery—KINTSUGI (also known as kintsukuroi)—literally translated to mean “golden repair”, is practiced from the philosophy of treating breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.
This unique art form, when reimagined in the context of human broken experiences, can inspire a sense of hope.
Right now we are in the breaking.
We are a people yearning for change, looking for hope, wanting restoration. The price for change is the brokenness long endured in our bodies, in our psyche and now magnified for the world to see.
How can the “art of precious scars” give a sense of hope at this time?
In the case of pottery, though broken and fragmented, through a change process of applying a precious liquified metal each broken piece is reconnected and the piece is brought back together again. And because no two objects break in the same way, each restored piece is a unique work of art not to be hidden away but displayed.
In the case of a people—each restored and made whole to highlight and enhance the breaks; each a one-of-a-kind work of art more valuable than before the breaking—can lead to collective restoration. A collective change.
What if we use these experiences of injustice, these tears, the magnitude of these hurts, the enormity of these losses to inspire CHANGE? Like liquified precious metal it can bind our individual and collective breaking into a restored community.
This is the essence of resilience—what I call bounceBACKability! This can be a recipe for hope.
Before-word: This short essay is thanks to my reaction to a nature show on NatGeo. There I was immersed in the wonders of life in the deepest part of the ocean and I thought: “wow…all of this was spoken into existence”! [clearly, I’m a creationist]. Then I got to thinking about the power of the words I speak to myself and the power of words generally and this essay is the outcome of all the musings.
The universe and ALL that we know came into being because God SAID it! But He did more than just spoke (communicating His thoughts, feelings, plans), He declared — made a public announcement, an explicit assertion.
In the act of DECLARING He spoke: let there be … and there was! Let there be roses and light and trees and fish and water and giraffe and oxygen and salt and atom and stars and gold and nebula and starfish and diamond and matter and … you get the picture? Check this out — God declared: LET THERE BE LIGHT! And voila — because He IS light, light came spewing from His mouth, gushing at 299,792,458 meters per second. WOW!!
Everything God declared now is!
Of course He went a step further when it came to mankind because although He had already spoken into existence cells and blood and all the other ingredients required to speak human-life into being, He chose instead to hand-form and breathe-into and man was created not just for his own existence but so that in him life could be replicated over and over again.
But, after God created man He spoke, He made a declaration that it was not just good but “it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). God said the universe in all its majesty was good but after He made man, He said it was VERY good.
I think ... the power that is in speaking and in making declarations has eluded us
It is God who said “the tongue has the power of life and death” (Proverbs 18:21).
Seems it is easier for us to use the tongue to speak “death” as we make declarations like:
I can’t do that – killing off our dreams before they’ve had the chance to live outside our thoughts;
I’m not good enough — killing off our potential before God’s purpose can be manifested in us;
I’m not pretty enough — killing off our beauty before the world can see who we really are;
I’m not smart enough …, rich enough …
I don’t have the right job …, right car …, right house
It’s not the right time.
Yes, we use the power of the tongue and make declarations — but declarations unto death! And it is therefore no wonder that we have exactly what we declare. There is, indeed, power in words and in the act of declaring.
After years of death-speaking into my own life I’ve learned the power of life-talk and now I make declarations like:
I can, I’m pretty enough, smart enough, rich enough!
I have the right job, the right car, the right house!
No one can fulfill the purpose I was created for!
No one can do it, write it, recite it the way I can!
No one can do the job, pick up folks in a car, welcome them to a home like I can!
And this is the time, for I’m here for such a time as now!
Why do we live in depravity, scarcity, doubt? Because we ask not. Because we keep silent. Because we do not make life-like declarations. If the all-powerful God who could think things into existence chose instead to speak, what about us?
Why do you keep silent? Speak out! Declare! Effect change!
He didn’t change She fell in love With the him he wanted her to see To steal What she wouldn’t give an imposter Unmasked— Her love knows not this man she sees
After-word: I wrote this piece long before masking became part of global health guidelines. Today we mask-up to protect our immune systems from an unseen predator—the novel corona virus. So for that reason, follow the golden rule of masking: mask-up for others as you’d have them mask-up for you.
However, when I wrote this piece it was based on reflecting on deception masked as truth and when unmasked the toll it takes on the heart-system.
Before-word: This piece was written based on the culmination of experiences of those of us who’ve encountered a lying, deceitful, manipulator who masqueraded as love. Who among us haven’t had such an encounter? This is a live recording of a recital of D.O.A. at the Bowery Poetry Café (NY City).
[click the “play” icon to watch live recital of D.O.A]
A collection of writing by Dominic Riccitello — intimate conversations, personal essays, and poetic reflections on relationships, loss, and self-discovery.
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