UNLEASH YOUR PORCELAIN HEART

For years, I've kept my heart like a porcelain doll--unable to be touched or played with out of fear that it might be damaged...or broken. "Have you ever tried sleeping with a broken heart?, asks Ms. Keys. Anyone who has tried knows that it's impossible. So instead, we remove ourselves from all situations in which our porcelain doll heart can be mangled or destroyed. We isolate and segregate our ourselves using our necessary (yet, sometimes destructive) moral codes. We secure our hearts in bubble wrap, tape down the edges, box them, garnish with bows and ribbons, and put them in the hole in our chest where our natural heart used to be. And do I blame us? Hell no! It's hard to know who and how to trust. Our hearts are most fragile and with busy schedules, limited time, and career becoming the new religion, who has time to unwrap what's left of their heart for just any and every body. So, we keep them boxed up, whilst going about our routine lives, never really knowing what life could be on the other side.

Well I'm here to tell y'all today that that kind of living isn't really living at all. UNLEASH THOSE PORCELAIN HEARTS!!! Allow them to be scratched and chipped...or maybe even broken. You never know who might come along and put the pieces back together. I speak completely from experience, knowing that trust and truth are the only paths to freedom. And although I'm still on my journey to 'freeing the porcelain heart,' I'm learning everyday that true living comes by way of freedom. Maybe we'll journey together.

Comments

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary? That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like they ar

Why I Quit Church...

On Sunday I quit church... for the day, at least. It was the most beautiful and painfully passionate act of self-care I've ever done. Hi. My name is Mia, and I live with an anxiety disorder. It's 4:30 on Sunday morning. My first alarm intrudes on the three hours of sleep I've managed to acquire. I begrudgingly assess the state of my vocal cords and decide whether or not they are well enough for me to sleep another thirty minutes. I hit snooze. Minutes later, my second alarm assaults my rem cycle. I pimp-slap my iPhone and decide whether or not I'm going to steam (a process in which I stand over a pot of boiling water for fifteen minutes to lubricate my cords). I, instead, opt for the less time consuming process of making tea, buying me an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. at 5:15, my third and final alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and into the shower. As I lather, I do minor vocal warm-ups and meditate. It's 6:05. I'm clothed, tea is made, hair is done,

God and Wine

Search This Blog