Skip to main content

Living My Best Life Pt. 2

[Read: Living My Best Life Pt. 1]

Day 2 of Fasting...

A few hours after publishing my last post, I was confronted by the despicable news of the Alton Sterling assassination by cops in Baton Rouge, LA. If you haven't been living under a rock and actually care about the state of humanity, you'll understand why this heartbreaking and gut-wrenching event halted my writing. I still prayed today, and meditated, and continued being intentional about declaring my expectations during this time of sacrifice and abstinence; however, it felt incredibly selfish and challenged my perception of self-preservation during times of national crisis.  I walked past a bottle of bourbon in my kitchen several times as I considered taking a shot or six to numb the lack of pain I felt regarding the most recent assassination. I felt kinda bad for not shedding a tear--that my heart, as much as I wanted it to, did not skip a beat while watching somebody's black father/husband/son/brother/neighbor get shot at close range. I know that my ability to not cry in horrific situations does not decrease the validity of my feelings. All day, I felt dry and thirsty for answers and action plans, unable to quench the thirst with wine because I'm fasting, after all, and all of my vices are gone. So I've had the tedious task of facing my emotions, or the lack thereof, head on. That's weird, always. I press forward, however, even on the rough days, because I'm determined to live my very best, most passionate, most purposeful life

I digress. Whew!

Expectations.

7/5/16 - Today, I am expecting a bridge. I am expecting a bridge to carry me from where I am to where I desire to be. I'll even build it myself. I expect to obtain or recognize the tools that will allow me to build a bridge...to build my breakthrough.

7/6/16 - Today, I am expecting an action plan. I am expecting to discover or create a plan for building, for creating, for fighting, for healing. In moments like these, I struggle to find my place in the movement towards justice and healing. I'm learning that my placement in the movement/in life will be connected to my passion . I am anticipating an action plan that will get me from my passion to my placement.

I am expecting to build a bridge that will carry me from my passion to my placement.

Plan: Passion. Bridge. Placement.






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"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

Exhausting Possibilities: A Sermon by Rev. Mia M. McClain

2 Kings 4:1-7  Delivered on August 15, 2021 at Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina I am a child of Grey’s Anatomy. No, not the human anatomy book by Henry Gray; the hit medical television drama. It’s safe to say that because of my obsession with the show, I am who am I, today. Between Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away With Murder, writer and producer Shonda Rhimes was basically my 3rd parent. In Grey’s Anatomy, so many life lessons were taught and learned. I saw so much of myself in the various groundbreaking characters she made room for on primetime television, and Shonda’s theologies and ideologies are on clear display in many of the landmark scenes. One scene, in particular, has had a lasting effect on me.  In the 2nd episode of season 2, a trauma patient comes in who the paramedics have been working on for almost a half hour with no improvement in his condition. The paramedic tells the Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey, that the patient is practically g