Change forced me to rip away what I was accustomed to doing so that the healing and wholeness can take place. It reminded me of having my cesarean. I could still hear the doctors around me, one after the other looking at the monitor, writing on notepads, looking back and forth at me, reassuring me that I was okay. After moments of looking at the monitor, they told me that Baby A, which was Christina, was breech and was pressing on her brother, Baby B, Jordan. This caused his heart rate to drop tremendously, and they needed to perform a C-section as soon as possible.
The process of lying there was easy. The hard part came afterward, when it was time for the body to heal. There were difficulties in even sitting down to use the restroom or walking down the hall at home—whew, to the ladies who understand what that is like. When I tell this story to the twins. It’s not lying in the hospital bed, or the decision to have surgery that fascinated them. It needed to happen or I could lose one of the babies, so that did not bother them. It was the story of the healing that makes them smile or excites them. The painful part, the hurting that snatches their attention. Their constant questions were, “Mama, who helped you walk?” or “Mama, how did you go to the bathroom if it was so painful?” After I told the story, they forgot about me lying there and getting cut open … it was the pain that excited them.
Chapter 9
Going back to work was a breeze. I was overjoyed to see everyone and to get out of the house, with people questioning my every move as if I couldn’t go to the bathroom on my own. It seemed my mother called every hour on the hour, and some days if I didn’t answer, she would just pop up at my front door. There were many times I did not want to be at work, but this was not one of those times.
I made it into the building, and I could hear her voice— Chasity.
“Hey, Chasity!” I yelled in excitement to see her.
She smiled. “How are you doing, Dana?”
Ignoring the fact that I was tired of hearing that question. I answered, “I’m doing fine,” “I am doing fine,” I repeated a second time in a sarcastic tone, joking with her as I nudged her shoulder to reassure her that I am just fine..
“That’s good, Dana. That’s really good,” she responded, nodding her head back and forth. “Hey,” she blurted out, “I want you to check out this spiritual awareness group I visited last week. I really think you would enjoy it.” The man who leads the group Mr. Ben, brings knowledge and awareness of what true spirituality is, she went on talking Before I had the time to chime in to answer, she said, “Go, Dana. You would like it.” As she smiled from ear to ear, nodding her head as if she had answered her own question for me.
That was the kind of woman she was. She had a smile and a personality that you just wouldn’t feel right saying no to. She always had a prayer in her mouth or a song in her voice. She was my only go-to person at this time, I couldn’t tell her no. I had told myself that I would no longer go back and forth with Christian, so even if I wanted to talk with him, I knew that I couldn’t. As much as I wanted to talk to my mother, I knew if I did, I would definitely be hearing about it in the shopping center Saturday, which was when it seemed the whole town did grocery shopping. Chasity was different; she knew what to say and when to say it. I always think of her as an angel sent specifically for me, I thought as I smiled to myself. Chasity was the type of person you could identify before she even came around the corner. Her loud laugh alone and her presence would draw anyone’s attention.
“Chasity!” I screeched. “How do you know I would like it?” I gave her a confused look, trying to figure out how someone like me could walk into a group to learn about spirituality. How would it look for me to go hear about God after all that I had done and was still doing? It just sounded absurd to me.
“Dana, just go!” she exclaimed with that sweet, soft voice, ignoring my concerns. Then she walked off, smiling and waving her hand in the air.
She always had a plan up her sleeve, but this seemed absolutely ridiculous. I didn’t understand why she wanted me to go. All day as I walked up and down the aisles at work, I thought about it. How can someone like me walk up in anybody’s place to learn about spirituality. The whole town knew who I was and what I had done. I was not like the “church girls” I saw, the ones who seemed like their whole life has been perfect; they looked as if they had not made one mistake. I gazed at my coworkers come in and out of the break room as I sat for lunch break thinking about what Chasity wanted me to do. Just as I finished that very thought, Chastity walked in and slid the address on the table before heading out the door. It was just like her not to give me the time to explain why I couldn’t go.
The night finally arrived, and there I was, parked in a fully packed parking lot, waiting to go in, trying to come up with an excuse in the book of excuses to put the car in reverse and take off down the street without looking back. What am I thinking, listening to Chasity? Who am I to be going in here? Who is this God she is talking about that I need to hear about?
I twirled my hair around my finger, trying to put some curls back in the hair that became frizzy in the humid night air. I looked back and forth in the mirror to see if something was in my nose, only to close the mirror and reopen it back up to see if something was on my teeth. I rubbed my hands as they became sweaty from the nervousness. After a few moments, I sucked up my feelings and got out the car and managed to make it to the door of the building.
Nervous as can be, I was greeted by two ladies who seemed to keep smiles on their faces, and if they released those smiles, their faces would actually crack in half. One of the ladies directed me to a bench that I thought was already too full, and by the looks on the faces of those sitting there glazing at me, they thought so too.
I looked at her and she looked at me, but somehow the look she gave me let me know this was where I would indeed be sitting for the night. The others on the bench shuffled around, trying to make just enough room for me to slide in. As I sat down, I literally felt the whole row of people stand up. I looked around to see what was going on and why the sudden rise had occurred. I noticed then that the teacher for the night had come into the room. With everyone else standing, I thought it was appropriate for me to stand as well. I saw how excited everyone was. They were clapping and joyfully moving around as if they couldn’t be still. I caught myself smiling and then quickly straightened my face up before anyone saw me.
“Good evening,” He firmly said, as he was getting his material together, putting his papers neatly on the stand and rearranging the mic at his ear. I am Mr. Ben, for those who don’t know me, he said laughing to himself.
He smiled and looked across the room as if scanning the room for strange objects that shouldn’t be there. He looked from side to side, up and down, examining what I thought seemed like everyone and everything that was in the building tonight. He soon began to expound on what true spirituality is, raising his voice several times as everyone stood on their feet screaming and shouting. I looked around and saw the two ladies who had walked me in jump as if they were trying to reach the sky.
As he broke everything down, he began to open me to something different, bringing tears to my eyes. I soon found myself shouting just like everyone else. I felt this man was awakening something in me, like we had just had a conversation before I walked into this jammed pack building.
How did he know I wanted to change? How did he know I was tired of living? Who told him I wanted to know the creator but was scared to take the chance of opening myself up, to discover the spirit of who the creator is resides on the inside of me took my thinking to another level. I was amazed, thinking he must have had a conversation with God about me.
One thing that stood out about Mr. Ben was that he explained in depth that “God never gives up on you. It is us that gives up on God.” Tonight, I found out about the creator, and by default I found hope, help, and peace, but ultimately I discovered me. For years, I have been looking for the true Dana, and ton
ight she came out.
It was so powerful that I literally questioned who I had been all these years. I felt I was awakened to a new world and was suddenly given a new beginning. It seemed everything that had happened to me and was happening didn’t matter anymore. At that moment, I knew what it meant to go through the fire and not get burned. Everything started to make sense. Everything started to fall in place.
When the meeting was over, I shook a few hands and gave a few hugs and walked out of the building empowered. Like I was a brand-new person, definitely not like the person who walked in, scared and nervous that people might see on my face what I was going through and what I had gone through. I even added a little pep to my step, a shake in my walk with my head held high. I got into my car, slammed the door, and drove off, excited about what had just taken place.
The next morning, I quickly got dressed, throwing on the work clothes I had laid out before I went to bed last night, and quickly dashed out the door to head to work. Good thing my mother decided to keep the kids last night as I impatiently drove to work. I just couldn’t get to work fast enough to let chasity know how right she was.
As I punched the time clock, looking around for her, I noticed that she was not in the break room as she always was, talking to or counseling someone. Where is she? I wondered as I walked down the halls. She has to be here. This is too good for her to pick this day out of all days to miss work.
Unfortunately, after walking around nearly the whole building in excitement just to talk with her, I realized she was not there. I held the excitement in all day, anticipating to let her know everything when she returned back to work. I couldn’t wait to see her.
That night changed my life, and I knew then that I had to work on myself. Everyone reaches that point in their life, but whether you change or not is always an option. You can choose to change, or you can choose to stay the same, but change always presents itself.
I noticed that the people who decide to stay the same lack the drive and motivation to change and are too complacent with their lives, thinking that’s just how it’s supposed to be. Most times they don’t feel they need to change because that’s just who they are—so they say. life-changing moment doesn’t have to happen at an awareness meeting like for me; it can absolutely happen anywhere—driving, at home in the living room, in the shower, or even while eating lunch with a friend. It’s that moment when you look at life and see it clearly, not fogged with the moments or the emotions attached to situations in life that blind you and prevent you from seeing clearly. It is an awakening moment, not being blinded by the hurt and pain from the past but a true awakening as if your eyeballs have fallen out and you were suddenly given new ones to be able to see clearly. It’s the moment you say, “I can’t continue to live life the same way.”
Knowing that I couldn’t live life the same, it was a mandate that I changed how I viewed my life. I had to stop continually changing the things around me without changing my mentality first. Constantly adding to my collection but never dealing with my mind! Obtaining things but lacking peace and joy, unable to receive love or allow love to flow through me.
I was accumulating things but didn’t have a stable mentality to enjoy them, so when that thrill wore off, I was buying something else to fulfill that trigger. I had things, but I couldn’t sleep at night. I had things but can’t stop crying. I have learned that things come and go in life. I like to say material things are like the icing on the cake. Things are not there to replace healing. The most important thing I did was to work on myself, dealing with my mind. To deal with the wounds of my past that haunted me day after day. When I worked on my mind, the joy, the peace, the stillness in the night air came, and the “things” were just added items.
I talked to a man a while back who recently lost his job. I asked, “What are you going to do now?”
The response blew my mind. He slowly said, “Dana, as long as I got my mind, I can always go out and get another. Jobs are not promised in this day and time, but I’m blessed to have my mind to know another job is awaiting me.”
As he spoke, I was reminded of the workers in Walmart who don’t have their legs, but they sit in their wheelchairs, greeting customers with the utmost respect, with joy, smiling from ear to ear. Without the mobility of their legs, they know that their mind is in the right place, so they can go to work with joy and be able to smile and laugh because they know that their legs won’t stop them, but the mind will. I had to learn that it is ok to acquire things, but you must have the mind to keep and enjoy them.
I opened the fridge and contemplated whether I wanted to make chicken or chopped beef. Would the kids prefer mac and cheese or mashed potatoes? As I heard them fighting over the sink in the bathroom, I hurried and pulled the chicken from the fridge and a pot for the mac and cheese. “Something quick will be good,” I whispered to myself. As I prepped the chicken, I thought about how I used to be in that place, wanting to acquire things without first acquiring healing.
Before I felt, the more I acquired, the more I was near the point of being “there.” I slowly learned that I should never get to a point where I feel I have reached a point called “there,” a point where I say, “Oh, I’m too old to change. Oh, that is just too much. I am good just the way I am.” One thing about God, as long as I am living, the creator will be constantly working on me and through me, building me, stretching me, and growing me. I should continuously be striving for better. There is never a moment that I should stop working on myself. There is not a place called “there.”
When I learned to deal with myself, I learned to get a handle on myself, meaning my first lesson was to understand that my joy was a high price to pay, so I soon became careful of who I allowed in my space. My peace was a high price. I then understood that I won’t allow people or things to take that away. I had to understand that I couldn’t let materialistic, perishable things or people that didn’t mean me any good to come and take my peace.
My biggest issue was unexpected issues. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely hate surprises, including surprise parties and surprise gifts—absolutely no surprises. So when there was a sudden death, a sudden issue with the kids, a sudden financial issue, I used to just throw everything out the window and was left feeling hopeless. So I let things and situations rob me of my joy. I let situations rob me of my peace. I understand now the things that are not materialistic cost too much to give them up so freely, and so easily. So I learned how to deal with situations as they came without losing my joy, and peace. I have been through too much hell and high water to let anyone or anything come in and rob me of my sanity, and to keep my sanity I had to learn that I soon had to rid myself of toxic people. When I went to the awareness gathering and had that oh-so-amazing experience and that oh-so-lovely life-changing moment, I had a solid fifteen friends I thought I would grow old with. I mean, these friends were like sisters. We partied together, got in trouble together, and at times got drunk together. If I got into any trouble, I knew that these girls would have my back. It was at the moment I decided to change that I saw those friends dropping off. I went from fifteen friends to a solid two friends. I learned that everyone who is with me is not necessary for me for every stage of my life. Some are just with me, enjoying the ride, getting what they can get out of the moments that we make together. Birds of a feather flock together. The moment I started to change, I was called all kinds of words, such as “fake” and “petty.” And the funniest one was I was acting “high and mighty.”
I learned that I attract people who are like me, or aspire to be like me. So, it was impossible for us to continue to flock together.
A woman once asked, “Dana, why do I attract only the thugs who take advantage and hit on me.”
I gently told her that something about her had attracted those types of guys. Deal with yourself from the inside out and watch what happens. I told her when I was doing drugs, dressing half naked, not caring
about the life I was blessed with, I attracted the drug dealers, the men who only wanted to sleep with me, or use me. I attracted the friends that wanted to do drugs and drink just as much as I did. Oh, but once I started to work on Dana, the guys whose pants sagged to their knees wouldn’t even look my way. The ones who stood on the corner wouldn’t even take that chance to approach me.
Then I ended the conversation with “something in you draws certain types of people”.
These friends of mine at the time laughed at me as if my past defined my future, as if I was crazy for thinking I could ever be better than drugs or letting men misuse my body, that I could ever be better than what I had been through. My issues, my hurt and pain, attracted those same hurt and issue driven friends. I told myself that couldn’t let my experiences define where I go. It was the change that made them uncomfortable, not only for them but for me. I began to feel very uncomfortable hanging out, doing the same things that I wanted so very much to leave alone. I can’t say they started to show their true colors, because they were showing their colors the whole time, but we were in two different stages in our lives. Which prohibited us from continuing down the same road together.
I understood that everyone is not meant to elevate with me. People showed me exactly who they are once I stepped back a bit. I couldn’t blame them for not accepting my change. I had to accept it for what it was and continue to move forward without them. I was going to damage myself by trying to take them with me, to hold on to friends that I had obviously out-grown. They were nothing more than seasonal friends who were there just to serve a seasonal purpose, and one thing I learned is that I can’t make seasonal people lifetime cohabitants.
The Product of a Broken Heart Page 10