StatCounter







Monday 27 December 2010

RIP Teena Marie!

I'm so upset!!!!!
I was cyber surfing this morning and came across the sad news that Lady T, aka Teena Marie had passed. Wow...

Listen, she was the soundtrack to my youth. My raving days. My carefree days. The days when it was just me before it became WE.
She was a baaaaaaddddd asssss sanger (sic). Oh yes, she was WHITE. But funny enough, I saw past her colour as I found her to be such an authentic SOUL singer.

RIP Teena Marie! The heavens have become funkier now *sad smile*

This were two of my favourite tracks (amongst so many other gems) and still sends nostalgic memories and shivers dowwn the back when I used to rave and party HARD!!



Reflection

Well, after the overhyped Christmas day, I am still here. Still blessed but otherwise, a bit stressed. Let me explain...

Over this year, there has been a lot of extreme and heavy drama with my husband and his children; it is only now can I put some articulation behind my suppressed feelings about what has taken place this last year.
To put it in a nutshell, his nasty ex-wife who is from this country - who have no biological ties to his two oldest children ( 16 and 15 respectively) that he had with another woman in Dominica - WHO IS A BLACK WOMAN - together with his son that he had with her (13 going onto 14, who has no manners, but then again, the apple does not fall far from the tree)have decided to visit my husband. Now, bear in mind, that his youngest son, Joshua, has had NO contact with my husband over the past six months, due to the manipulative and controlling spirit of his ex wife. This she has passed onto his biological children. She has now morphed into a 'foster mother ', which benefits her financially. Because of who she is, she is a greedy woman. This woman already put my husband into debt; this is a woman who fabricated an email address to send off pornographic brochures to our address; this is a woman who sent anonymous letters and deliveries to this address; but hey, I digress!
Anyway, to cut a long story short, this woman has used his two children as pawns against him and they now live with the bitch (I'm sorry about the name calling, but right now I'm trying to heal from all of this).
Let me just insert at this juncture. My husband was a single father. Bringing up his two children singlehandedly in Europe. Something which is rare and unheard of. That is why I admire him, he is so special and he will continuously be blessed.
His two oldest children were born in the Commonwealth of Dominica. He brought them over here to NL when he married this witch.

I used to have a really wonderful and positive relationship with these children. Not so much Joshua, as his father rarely saw him. Additionally, he was influenced by his mother to dislike me - for what reason, I am still unclear. But with the two oldest children, I was there for them in so many ways. I left the UK a year ago. My children were old enough to be left - my youngest one lives with his father. This was not a hard decision to make, as his father has always had full participation in his life, as has my oldest son, who is 24...
I decided to come over here as my relationship with my husband was falling apart, due to the long absences, so I made a very clear decision to be with my husband. Forget about the adage. 'distance makes the heart go fonder'. It wasn't. It was placing a big burden on my relationship.
Anyway, as I stated before, I had a positive and uplifting relationship with his children. I never pretended to be their mother, as I felt it was important that they would and should reconnect with their biological mother in Dominica. In fact, I felt so strongly about it, I was the one who PAID for their passages to go to Dominica in 2009, when we all went as a family. It was my first time there. Unfortunately, the reconnection with their mother was not successful. However, I always reminded the children that she was the mother, even if she could not emotiionally be there for them, and that they should never, ever forget her.
I loved these children like they were my own. I always reiterated that I could not replace their mother but I'd always be there for them. They heard me loud and clear - or so I thought...
However, a very negative and dark cloud hovered over everything when I came to live here in NL. Now, let me make it clear at this juncture, it was completely transparent to his children that I was coming to live over here with them. We spoke about it all the time. It wasn't 'news' to them. They were elated and excited by the news. If there was an issue I would've rethought my decision. Heck, they had visited me in London - with their father. They knew my children. I thought things were cool with us. My children were fine about it and understood that I had to go to save my relationship. They were secure in this knowledge and let me go without any kind of guilt. It was no 'biggie' to them that I was coming to resettle here in NL.
Then, because of the ex wife absolute inappropriate way of manipulating and controlling situations, she then began to brainwash these children. First, it was a steady, slow drip. I was aware of this when my husband used to permit (against my advice) his children to spend weekends with the woman. He and I - when I was over here on vacation - noticed their small and subtle changes. This witch turned these children against their own biological father and against me. I am exasperated by it all, because to me, these children are old enough to make informed choices and decisions, but they have gone along with this seedy drama.
See, she is a European white woman. Her cultural values and overall sense of who she is an antithesis of how I, as a Black woman, was strictly raised in the UK of a Nigerian/African woman. My boundaries were hemmed in tightly, and I knew my place as a child with my mama. I think you understand my point? Anyway, this nasty, vindictive, manipulative, negative bitch (yeah, I said it), got my husband's children (all of them), together with the far too liberal social services agencies over here and stacked their perilous cards against their father and me. See, I assert myself very well, and when meetings were convened regarding this very emotional issue, I stood my ground and informed them that they were all wrong to do this to a man who is their biological father. Both me and my husband challenged the absolute lies that were written in reports, which completely denigraded my husband's parenting skills. I helped my husband rebutt these false reports and allegations that were stated in these subjective and biased reports - who, by the way were overly influenced by this witch.
Over here in this country, the childrens views and perspectives overrule the parents authority. You always seem to have to negotiate with children and ultimately, one is too scared to have any kind of wielding authority to state that you are the parent, set up boundaries and guide their paths. Undertaking this route is, in their option, dictorial. The crux and notion overall of Netherland families are about being 'friends'and not parents to your children.

Anyway, back on topic. These children have lied about their father to the courts, the agencies et al. This woman has enabled this nasty and unaccountable behaviour for these children. They hardly (if ever) communicate. She has set up a faulty premise for how these children will relate to my husband and his family in the future. Consequently, she has set an environment and foundation that will have an everlasting impact on how he will now relate to his kids. I am starting to feel that. The two youngest children were here. I had nothing to say to them. I didn't establish a nasty vibe to them. It was just hard for me to be all 'smiley' to them when I am aware of the devilish actions that this woman has manipulated. I can't pretend at all what went on. It is not about a bitterness about what they said about me. I have forgiveness in my heart, but see, I am a REAL, GENUINE AND SINCERE person. It just invades my soul when I have to 'pretend'.
So here I sit. In reflection. About what has happened and the great impact that will inevitably cloud my relationship to my husband's children over the years.
Its very sad, but I am trying to see the small shaft of light at the end of the tunnel. I know that God will shine a light on this very doomed situation, because everything that occurs in the dark will eventually be illuminated by the light.

Monday 13 December 2010

Political Thoughts on the Nature Island, aka Commonwealth of Dominica

"Oui Papa!" "Malaway!"



My husband is a proud Dominican. He lives for Dominica. He inhales and exhales for Dominica. His roots in so many variations are attached to Dominica. He simply loves Dominica. Period. He wants to return like tomorrow to his beloved country. Wherever he goes, I will follow. For his footsteps and mine are the same. Different shoe size, but I guess you know what I mean. I love Dominca. Its the place where my husband and I will be returning to very, very soon by the Grace of Spirit.

It's a small island, populated by approx 70,000, bordered by nature, hemmed in by verdant shades of green, tropical rainforests and stunning scenery. However, the current political climate is rotten, like the fallen mangoes found on the long and winding roads and steep precipes in the Nature Island.

The above italic words, translated in French and in creole French respectively means 'Yes Father!' and 'Poor People!' These are the words that are currently being muttered in complete frustration and weary exasperation by Dominicans - at home or abroad whenever confronted about the continual lies and all out blatant lack of transparency and governance within Dominican politics.

I am presently listening to Q95FM, which is a popular radio station in Dominica, and the voices that have been calling for Roosevelt Skerrit's resignation is getting louder and louder. The voices are rising to a cacaphony due to the allegations that he was not truthful to the citizens of Dominica about his dual citizenship of French and Dominica. Basically, to give a brief overview (click on the title of this blog for further information), according to an investigative journalist, Lennox Linton, the PM has caused a constitutional dilemma, where he had dual citizenship and only denounced it in February 2010 - he was still PM in 2009 and in fact, has been the heralded, youthful Prime Minister from 2005. Did you know that Skerrit is the youngest PM in the world? I guess that is where is lack of insight and wisdom comes from. Now, I'm not suggesting that his youth leaves him without these qualities, but surely, knowing full well what the Constitution stipulates, was he not even aware of this issue? Or was he being invincible?
According to the Dominican constitution, one is not allowed to serve two countries (and correct me if I'm wrong, this is indicative everywhere else when becoming a prime minister of a country). However, Roosevelt Skerrit was re-elected in December 2009 and stated that 'no constition, no law' can stop him from becoming a prime minister.
This is the latest controversy to stick to Roosevelt Skerrit, hence the rising chorus of getting him to resign. Check the below youtube clip regarding his illegal purchasing of villas:




Since these allegations, there has been no public statement from him. I wonder how he and his cronies will spin this ONE.

Contemplation: Here I Am

con·tem·pla·tion
   /ˌkɒntəmˈpleɪʃən, -tɛm-/ Show Spelled[kon-tuhm-pley-shuhn, -tem-] Show IPA
–noun
1.
the act of contemplating; thoughtful observation.
2.
full or deep consideration; reflection: religious contemplation.
3.
purpose or intention.
4.
prospect or expectation.


Right now I am in a contemplative mood. I woke up this morning contemplating on what has happened for me throughout 2010. I always feel comtemplative around this time of year, and what I have concluded is that I have no regrets at all in my rollercoaster life. Looking at my background, my childhood and the lack of tools I had, I congratulate myself with my tenacity to stand here, as I am, in a foreign land and still have all of my facilities, without any kind of falsehood. My conscience is 100% clear and transparent.
I've come to overstand that having regrets in my life only procrastinates and stunts my growth and know that I have to look at the regrets, learn from them and see them wholly as ultimate blessings in my lessons.

2010 has been a year of change and challenges:
Moving to another land where English is not the primary language; the first time since I have been working that I have been unemployed for such a long period of time (due to my total lack of understanding of the Dutch language; where my integrity as a step mother to my husband's children has been totally slandered - I will blog on this at a later date when I can articulate the words;being isolated away from my extremely small circle of friends and my two children (although they're grown!); where I have replaced the notion of 'religion'and replaced it with my ongoing and growing spirituality, hence, no more forced attendance of church through guilt.

I know that change is good. But challenges can set your journey but paradoxically,have kept me eternally on the tips of my toes. This has been good for me, but the frustration that I have felt is being unable to express myself in the way that people who know me, overstand where I am coming from.

When I got up this morning, I spoke to Spirit. I had an intimate conversation with Spirt as if I were talking to a close friend, spilling my innermost secrets. And it felt good. No boundaries. No sense of if I was doing it the 'wrong' way. I felt free and my conversation was limitless allowing me to remove the usual artifical way that I speak with Spirit. Anyway, I digress.
I got up and cleaned up and put on some gospel/inspiration music. I chose Marvin Sapp's cd 'Here I Am'. The lyrics spoke to my Spirit and my heart. I heard the lyrics clearly and embraced what they meant to me. Then I googled the lyrics and joy fulfilled my space.
Here are the lyrics and the video - Enjoy!



Here I Am - Marvin Sapp


Here I am, I’m still standing, here I am after all I’ve been through I’ve survived every toil and every snare I’m alive I’m am alive here I ohhh

There were times when I almost gave up and I’ve cried and said Lord it’s too much. El Shaddai , He was there all the time by his grace he is keeping me alive. By his (grace and mercy I’m still standing, standing.) I’m standing in the presence of the almighty with (power and a testimony ahhh) I standing here today with one thing to say (Lord I thank you, Thank you)

(Here I am, I’m still standing, here I am after all I’ve been through I’ve survived every toil and every snare I’m alive I’m alive here I am) (Repeat)

(Ah) All of the pain I had to go through it gave (power and a testimony) now (ah) I am standing here today with one thing to say (lord I thank you, thank you)

Here I am (its because of your mercy) Here I stand (its because of your grace) Here I am (its because of your goodness) and I thank you Lord (yes) Yes (yes) Repeat

All of the pain that I had to go through it gave power and a testimony now I am standing here today with one thing to say Lord I thank you, I thank you oh (ah) oh (I still standing, standing ) I’m still standing (ah) I been through my crisis, my trail and my test (I still standing) say yes (yes) yes (yes) yes (yes)yes (yes) the devil is defeated (yes) the devil is defeated (yes) yes (yes) yes (yes) through every tail (yes) through every test (yes) through every trouble (yes) I like that best (yes) I’ll say yes (yes)I ‘ll say yes (yes) yes (yes)

Here I am, I’m still standing, here I am after all I’ve been through I’ve survived every toil and every snare I’m alive I’m am alive here I am





Tuesday 7 December 2010

The Kindness of Strangers

Today, I cried tears of sorrow and frustration. The realisation of being in an isolated position without any kind of financial independence has finally empowered me to learn a new language. This will enable me to be free of all the ties that are holding me down at the moment.
Earlier on, I was at a bus stop, tears running down my face, and this woman came up to me - somebody who I have never met before and probably will never meet again - she gave me this reassuring touch, telling me that it will be alright. Her English was halting, but she gave me a non verbal look in my eyes;her sense of sincerity rang out empathetically for me. She said I have been in your position. That is all she said. It is like she knew what I was currently going through. I tried to mop up my tears, but I was unsuccessful, as they kept on flowing down my face and into my sodden falling apart tissue - unabated.
I smiled at her as she got on her bus and whispered a 'thank you' to her. God Bless her soul. Sometimes, the kindness of strangers is more gratifying and sincere then from your own loved ones. They haven't got the luggage of friends or loved ones who know you and may judge you in your grief. Thank you again lady for letting me be myself.

The year 2011 is suddenly dawning down on my head. I will learn Dutch and become motivated and empowered in my uphill growth.

I posted Lauryn Hill's video with lyrics, because the song really states what I am feeling right now with my life.
It is an empowering and inspirational song and it gives me a sense of freedom every time I hear it.

.

Monday 25 October 2010

Religion versus Spirituality

Religious versus Spirituality. This has always been a big struggle for me. It's not because I am questioning God, but I question religion and how it has bound people to a strict code which from my own personal experience, has not even been exercised within the church. I think the fundamental difference between being religious and spiritual is this: Religion is about the externals, and being spiritual is a truer picture of the self, one that has been recreated in the image of Jesus Christ. I am religious about alot of things: the way, I eat, shower, dress, etc., these things are not neceassrily bad, right or wrong. They are just the routine ways I do things. Religiousity then is the routine ways we practice our faith. This certainly can be detrimental to our health. I think this is what happens to a large number of our congregants. Sunday, each have their own set of religious routines that we follow. I think in large part this mechanical way we go about church helps to keep people away. Outsiders want a Jesus they can see, touch, smell, and talk to. I think religion exalts tradition over the Word, and in some cases, religion is a bad thing for everyone involved. I will go one further and say that religion doesn’t have room for new expressions of faith, and certainly doesn’t have time for questions that challenge the status quo.

I think we needn’t be afraid of practing what it means to be spiritual. I see here the difference, between authenticity and churchanity. To me being spiritual is living out our lives as recreated beings, remade in the image of Christ.

Since coming and living in Netherlands, I wanted to find a church that was inviting, warm, unconditional, non judgemental et al. Basically, I was looking for a church that welcomed me and my discerning nature. I was searching for a church that I could have a positive experience and exhale and inhale my spirit on a weekly basis to be revived, renewed and refreshed from living in an isolated environment that has been quite difficult for me to navigate through. A place that each Sunday I could get a spiritual pick up and high from the Word of God. I thought that I found that in Mountain Glory Parish of Arnhem. I was so wrong and I should've listened to my gut instincts from the very beginning.

This church is a pentecostal church, so it ticked all the boxes for me. It reminded me of the church I used to attend with my mother when I was younger. The African hymns and the loud praising and worship, I felt truly at home. The loud drummings and the joyous 'halleujahs'I felt at one with. I could worship without any kind of judgement. However, after a while being there, I still felt like an outsider. My husband (who initially found the church at the beginning of this year) felt like an outsider. See, my husband is a Rasta, and he truly from his heart and soul loves God. He doesn't see Haile Selaisse as his 'god' at all. He has been seeking God for a long time, that is why I felt aligned to him in the first place.

The church is populated by a majority of West Africans (Nigerians, Sierra Leones, a smattering of Cameroon et al). Now,I am aware of the prejudices that SOME Africans have with locks and Rasta in general - you know, the redundant stereotypes that all rasta do is smoke weed ad nauseum. Well, my husband doesn't partake. Not to say that he hasn't previously, but he no longer smokes weed and nor have I - especially if it is coming from a church perspective; they're the most judgemental folk ever, especially when it one does not fit their cookie type image - fake hair weaves and lots of gold jewellery and the satorical trends that I wouldn't be seen dead in!

Remember earlier I mentioned my discerning nature? I'm somebody that likes to ask a lot of questions, and I did in this particular church, as of other churches that I have attended in the past. I didn't question the religious content per se, but I questioned the controlling aspects of the religious dogma; about the enforced code of what the church today tries to coerce their congregations into.. The continuous ways that they attempted to tell members how to pray, how to worship, how to praise and if you are a 'worker' in the church, how to be that 'worker' without questioning the pastor. I felt that I was in a cult and I do not drink any flavour of kool aid at all. I had issues with this and I said it aloud, which then quickly placed me into the category of 'troublemaker'. I saw so many contradictions that each week it became a downer on my spirit. Here I was, trying to align with His Word and presence, and yet, I am told how to pray, worship and praise. I felt the emotional blackmail that is often employed towards weak minded spirits who are seeking God for their own salvation, but have no idea of how to discern or have their own identities. How they place their pastor on the altar of spiritual wisdom and insight, but have no clue how to be discerning themselves - not just the congregation but the pastor himself. He never, ever moved me in a sermon. Instead, he used to preach from the pulpit about people in the congregation - mostly it was pointed at me. I wasn't being paranoid. I read between the lines.He was very passive-agressive and he is one of those men who feel totally threatened and intimidated by women who have so much more intelligence then him. I say this with no bias. I mean, his wife is about 15-20 years younger then him and is totally submissive. Anyway, back on topic...

For the last few weeks, my spirit has been extremely lethargic; I have tried to pray but I just can't find the words to say. A lot of it had to do with how these so called 'christians' in this church were towards each other, the insincerity. the fake concern for others and the cliqueness of the inner circle. I saw all of this, but my concern was the issue of financial impropriety. I questioned this. In fact, me and my husband were the only ones to question this. Oh, I forgot to mention, this so called pastor wasn't 'called' by God when he initiated this church. First of all,this church was established in Nigeria. Apparently (although, since then I have had red flags constantly at full mast) the church tithes are sent to Nigeria. When I asked about this months ago, the pastor then said that it wasn't happening anymore. I do not pay tithes as I do not believe that tithes should be practised in modern churches today. I give free will what I have, but I refused to be bullied into paying tithes. My husband also felt this way.
At this point, let me state quite eviqivocably, many red flags went up for me over my time at this church. But I guess I was seeking some spiritual sanctuary and also, my isolation has been very high, and I was seeking fellow sisters to make friends with. It was difficult for me though. Because, to be honest, and for fear of not me sounding too 'snooty', these women were just not of my calibre. I had nothing in common with them. Don't get me wrong, a few of them were decent and I clicked with them in my own way, but I was the only woman there who had her natural hair - you see where I'm going here? lol But most more importantly, I had nothing to really converse with them outside of church. I miss the genuine banter of my true friends, and it was frustrating to be seen as the 'troublemaker' amongst the women whenever I decided to question the pastor.

The final straw for me happened last week. Last week was the first year anniversary of the church being established. The weeks before then - in fact, months before then, I had suggested printing a newsletter. I informed the pastor that I had lots of articles that I could contribute to. As usual, the pastor did not have his priorities in order - I told him this a couple of weeks back, which in hindsight I now know he detested.
So, with the newsletter I said that I would help him get it together, as he had no idea how to edit, write and put together a newsletter. I did.
Now, at this point the pastor didn't assign me the duties of the newsletter. As usual - because again I am speaking in hindsight - he assigned two of the members of his congregation who never, ever question him. Let me say at this point it was a husband and wife team. A husband and wife who 'divorced', had loads of issues in the church - this was played out one week after church finished, oh the drama - where the husband told my husband and I in confidence about his wife going on facebook pretending to be him and 'chat' to other women; how he was not in 'love' with her; how he loved somebody else ad nauseum. Can you see the picture emerging with this so called decorum of 'christianity' decency within this church?. Now, I am not perfect. I have never claimed to be perfect and I know that I fall short of His glory at all times. But most of these church members have an 'holier than thou' stance when it came to this church. Again, it may have something to do with the pastor having an invested interest - his mother-in-law who is Surinam and can barely speak English, is the choir leader. Get this. She is tone deaf, has no idea about music and the choir sounds TERRIBLE. Week in, week out. I used to belong to the choir as I have had many experiences in church choirs and I can sing in tune! My husband is a musician. He played drums for the choir. Each time he attempted to assist and help them out, but to no avail. Last week was the final straw though.
As usual, every Friday night is choir practice - for one hour. To be honest, this choir needs more than one hour of rehearsal as they have NO IDEA. Anyway, I digress. I usually do not attend choir practise or their prayer meetings, because I am tired of others dictating to me how I should pray/worship/praise God. However, as it was the weekend of the anniversary celebrations, I wanted to find out about the newsletter - which by the way, I managed to edit it to a decent format, ad the pastor's contributions, as well as the two testimonies that I received were, to put it mildly, were grammically really bad. I had to rewrite all of the testimonies and the pastor's pieces as they would've not been publishable.
The pastor thanked me in his underhand way. I think he was too scared to compliment me, but heck, as I said then, I did it for the church, not for him. I was not looking for any glory at all - if I was I would've put my name as an editor in the newsletter. No members of the congregration, who saw the newsletter by the way did not say anything to me about how it had turned out. There was no acknowledgement at all.

Back to the choir practice.
When my husband got there, he saw somebody sitting in the drummer seat. The pastor didn't even have the nerve to inform my husband earlier on that he had invited another drummer to drum for the church on Sunday when the big event was going to happen! Can you believe that. So what I am saying is, the pastor went behind my husband's back, got somebody else without telling him. Although my husband challenged him he again was all apologetic. I was there. It smelled of insincerity. Period. The pastor's justification was so that the drummer could tell him how to 'drum african style'! I was completely shocked. My husband was nonplussed about the situation, but by then, I became angry about the audacity and the insincerity of the pastor's position regarding the matter. And most amazingly, nobody from the choir, the choir that he always held together with his skilled drumming, came to my husband and stuck by his side with any kind of loyalty. So much for 'christian' loyalty. Basically, this drummer was going to be used for the Sunday service because my husband and his 'look' didn't fit the church. The pastor wanted to front, preen and put on an act so he could 'impress' the masses.

Additionally, I had my run in with the wife of the 'husband and wife' team. Let me just say, she is a typical white Dutch woman, and thinks that because she is 'married' to an African man she can talk to me anyhow. I repeatedly asked her about the newsletter, as she was meant to translate it into Dutch. She was so nonchalant about it all. I then blew up at her and accused her of sabotaging the near to impossible efforts that I had made of the newsletter. Then her fake tears began. I was so through. I was through with her insincere concerns of me, her faux Nigerian accent (can you imagine! lol) and her underhand digs at me in the past. I never liked her spirit, but I always tolerated her as I felt it was my 'christian' duty. That Friday I 'read' her. I felt that she had disrespected me and I told her that. As usual, the pastor was being a weak minded vessel and couldn't tell her the truth. Basically, she said the reason why it wasn't translated and gave me a table long of excuses: Computer not working at home; she works 40 hours a week; virus on computer ad nauseum. I responded to her and stated if she knew all of this, why did she avail herself and overstretch herself to duties that she could not do. I said I hated the way that I had no form of communication with the pastor regarding the newsletter and if it was going to be published. I hated the fakeness of the Dutch woman and her overall mannerisms and approach towards me. That is the whole ethos of this church. They want to do it for glory and vanity. They are weak minded and do not have a mind for themselves.

So, anyway, Saturday evening I decided not to attend the first day celebration. I was so through and I told my husband that I never wanted to attend the church again. I said that the pastor blatantly lied about the financial records. I heard him stuttering and stammering. His body language was just off when I challenged him on Friday night about the financial records.
When my husband returned on that Saturday evening he told me that the preaching was on fire - this was because a guest pastor had spoken, and according to my husband he was the 'truth'. I still was in two minds about attending the church for the celebration, but I prayed on it and attended on the Sunday.

In my opinion, God sees everything...
On Sunday, the drummer, who was to teach my husband 'african drumming' didn't even turn up. He switched his mobile off, in fact, he was persona non-gratis! Who did they all turn to? Yep, my husband! Because he is a humble spirit, he did the drumming on that day. My husband was right, the guest pastor was on 'fire'. I felt the Holy Spirit and I had a great time. Still, deep inside, I was still in two minds about attending the church and being a member and a 'worker' for the church. Yesterday, my gut instinct was proved right.

The pastor decided to preach fire and brimstone from his pulpit yesterday afternoon. I looked at him and felt so sorry for him. That he had to use his pulpit to talk to me, to point his judgemental finger towards me.
Whilst I was half listening to his 'sermon', I quietly asked God to give me the grace and mercy; to forgive him. Because I believe in God and the way that he has always directed me, especially in terms of my creativity, I started writing in my prayer journal a prayer:

Sunday 24th October 2010

Heavenly Father,
Please continue to give me the grace and mercy to keep on hearing your Word. Give me the continual spiritual strength to know your mercy and to bear witness to your spirit that is progressing within me.
Lord, keep me upright in your uprighteousness as I continue to walk and meditate with the Spirit.
Lord, I will continue to glorify your name and your name only. I will not be bind by Man and his ways, but only by Spirit.
Lord, keep me awake in spirit and always allow me to be a discerning presence in your word. I pray this all in your name, Amen!

When I finished writing the prayer, I began to think even deeper regarding the issue around spirituality and religion. It's something that I have always struggled with. I guess being brought up in the church, this has always been a dilemma for me. In church, you are bound by strict rules and codes - that is religion and it's dogma. A lot of the time, they are punitive towards you, especially if you are a woman who is of a discerning, questioning nature; an intelligent one at that. They want to shut you down - FAST. Now, I am not on some kind of 'bleeding heart' feminist, but my eyes will always be open to the woman force within the church of today. I have a lot of respect towards women who stand up and question and challenge the status quo of church. You only have to look around churches today to see how women dominate in the congregation.How women hold the pillars of the church to survive. Yet, you have weak minded pastors who want to keep some women down and oppress them so that their voices will always be submissive and weak. They use, in my humble opinion, scriptures to keep womens voices suppressed, but at the same time, uplift us and say that we are the 'strength' of the church. it's really a contradiction of sorts.


Whilst sitting in church yesterday, I was inspired to write a list of points of why I attended church and the reasons why I have stopped (from yesterday). Bear in mind that these points are interchangeable and will probably grow over the years.

Why I attended church:

*To hear the Word of God
*To feel the Holy Spirit and presence of God
*Repentance
*To be united with the Gospel
*To be consistent, constant and vigligant towards God
*To become more focused on God and my ongoing journey and walk with God/Spirit
*To be in constant, genuine and consistent fellowhip with fellow believers - unconditionally.
*To walk upright and become righteous in my walk with Christ
To be aware of my flaws, know that I am not perfect, but to glorify in the unconditional love that God has for me

The reasons why I stopped attending church:

*I refuse to be dictated by MAN on my walk with Christ. Therefore, my relationship with God is PERSONAL. Thus, no one in church can tell/dictate how I pray, worship and praise God (Matthew 6: 5-6)
*No judgement on my walk with Christ
*Not to be preached from a pastor who has no spiritual insight, truth or wisdom. Who preaches from a victim perspective.
*The threat of using scriptures to justify their spiritual weaknesses
*The incorrect ministering and context of scriptures to justify the pastor's own personal means - eg financial, mind control

One of my dilemmas of attending church was my role as a strong woman within church. I no way wanted to dilute who I was, but I had to be aware of how I may come across to some people. I wanted to be 'true' to myself and my inner spirit. Therefore, I have finally come to the decision and conclusion that I will no longer attend that church or any other church. In fact, my time as an avid churchgoer is over. When I decide to attend church it will only be as an observer and to soak in God's word. I will not be a member where religious dogma will have a say and then ultimately, dictate on my own spirituality and my own personal relationship with my Creator. All the lessons I have learnt from attending that church and other churches over the years, have been massive blessings for me. These lessons have in an essence been a blessing to my spirit and soul, and have shaped me into who I have become today.

I look forward to my oncoming journey to my spirituality, thus, no more bowing down to religious dogma for. Free at last, thank God I am finally free at last.

Praise God!!!!

Wednesday 8 September 2010

Lightbulb #2; Attempting to demystify HTML code :)

I've had this blog for quite a while now and I must admit, I have let it just stagnate, as I have been quite busy in my moving over to Holland. No, in fact, I have been lazy, let me just keep it real! lol
Nonetheless, whilst out blog observing, I have noticed that a lot of blogs have really put me to shame, simply due to my laziness. Let me explain.
I already have a slight awareness and a tiny bit of knowledge of HTML coding and how to place this on sites. I didn't attend any training for this (as for anything else computer related), I just ran with it. Sometimes, we fear our computers and are too scared to try out new stuff. But I've always grabbed the proverbial bulls by the horns and I have just gone for it. It's funny really, because I know that I am a contradiction of sorts, but I am also a work in progress.... I digress, I digress!
Anyway, accompanying all of this, I know how to put youtube videos on my page. I know how to load up exciting pictures of me (ok, I'm getting slightly ahead of myself now! lol), but you catch my drift. And yet, I have allowed my own personal blog space to self archive and limply sway in the calm, reassuring waves of complacency and procrastination- two awkward tools of my own sometimes cynical manner which I have been trying to eliminate from my spirit. Yet, they still creeps up on me like a bad nightmare.
So, after my blog observing (I'm sure that I'll be able to create a new word to be included in Websters about the science of watching blogs and their designs - just watch this space! lol) and my proverbial dragging of my dainty feet, I decided to tweak this blog and make it a bit more welcoming. Thus more followers and more flags on my location widget. Yay!
Some of the interesting features I have added is to see where folks are coming from. See, that is one of the fascinating bits of data I can collect -I feel like a trainspotter geek - to see where the visitors are literally 'reading' me. I've also added a comment box, so instead of the annoying pop ups, I get my own comment box. Another additon to my blog space is to set up followers. There is only one following me and that's ME! How sad and kind of desperate, ya think? lol Anyhow, I did this all by myself. With my own two hands. With my own intelligent mind! lol Trying to decipher the secret code of HTML and just seeing lines and lines of <<<< /// and : et al. Trying to see and understand who invented this HTML and what on earth were they thinking of? I guess it made a lot of sense, because this is the standard language now for adding images et al to websites. How cool is that? I feel great. I feel that I have achieved and yeah, I am tapping and proudly claiming/owning my inner tech geek. I guess I should've become a computer programmer, but I love talking too much, hence my profession! Yep, watch this space, because me and HTML have just become BFF!

Sunday 5 September 2010

Discovery: Lightbulb Moment #1

I'm not the type of person to engage in wishful thinking, as I feel that it stagnates my growth. However, lately, I have been really trying to understand the ultimate point that I have reached in my life as I feel that something is 'missing'. I can't really put my finger pulse on what is 'missing', but I do know that a myriad and a cacaphony of emotions that have recently affected me over the last few months or so have contributed to these feelings.
Sometimes I ask myself if I am running on empty, in the sense that I feel that there is nothing left in me thus my sense of self being stuck on hollow. I ask God daily to redeem and rain salvation on on me, but sometimes it's a difficult task in the face of continued adversity. I mean, how do I reach deep and far into my soulspirit if I keep on feeling depleted? How do I muster up the continuous strength for my own survival? I know this may sound somewhat dramatic, but that is how I am feeling right now!
Ok, the reality is that I am an anchor without a boat. A swimmer without a life jacket. I guess I need some kind of buoy tool to keep me afloat on this wave of uncertainity, because my ocean is currently endless and without any seams to it. Overall, my foundation remains shaky and unsteady for now because currently there is a lot of unclarity in these waters now... a bit of an oil slick situation. How can I sum up how I feel?
Alright, I feel that I am looking through a steamed up windowpane, evaporated by mist. Sometimes I clean it and I can see all the way through it. Other days it remains an enigma for me; a sense of vagueness.
I try not to have any wistful regrets in my life, but sometimes I wish that I could just pause my entire life - imagine using the pause function on a dvd player. Or, even more extreme, to totally rewind the memories in my life, so that I can replay them at my own leisure and erase any nasty memories and replay them again with the attached wisdom that I have acquired over the years.

Monday 16 August 2010

The Many Wonders of Shea Butter

Shea butter has been enjoying a type of beauty renaissance and has lately become a trendy buzzword for the global beauty industry. Although the main product directed towards the consumer is not 100% pure, it is still gaining a lot of visibility in beauty products.
Natural, unredefined Shea butter is generally an off yellow or ivory in colour and is extracted from the seed of the African Shea tree. The fat from the tree - which makes the butter - is crushed and boiled at high temperatures. Shea butter is edible and in Africa it is often used in cooking products, such as cooking oil and it also can be used for making chocolate. It also can be used in candle making.

I grew up and was introduced to the miracle of shea butter at an early age by my mum. I also used copious amounts for my two children whilst they were young babies - it was especially good for nappy rash and the mild childhood eczema that my youngest child faced.
Shea butter has many uses. I use it for a moisturiser for my skin. The best way to apply it is to warm it ever so slightly (about 10 seconds) in a microwave and rub it on damp skin. It's also excellent for a hair butter and really benefits afro hair. I also mix essential oils in some of my shea butter jars - rosemary being the main one for my hair usage.
Also, if you've had a rough workout in the gym or your generally feeling run down and your muscles hurt, or your joints feel stiff, shea butter is an excellent antidote to sooth away the aches and pains.
I always carry one of my homemade shea butter products in my bag, as I never know what and when I may need it for.

Talking Double Dutch: Attempting to conquer a hard language

Speaking Dutch (or trying to learn it) has been my main obstacle since living here.
I find that I am too long in the tooth - and unknowledgeable in the truth - to be learning another language and trying to use it in my everyday usage and context. This has left me feeling momentarily frustrated, dejected and an overall failure! I'm a person who loves to communicate and when I am not understood or there is no clarity, I can sometimes lose my sense of balance and act a bit strange!
I mean, I have had some Dutch folk nod sympathetically with me and even emphasise with me about the difficulties of learning Dutch. They've even admitted it that speaking the language is very hard and takes a while. How's that for a vote of confidence for my fragile ego?
Because I do not speak Dutch fluently or even hardly, it is impossible to get a job in my field as a counsellor. And before a thought bubble is formed, my husband is not from Holland - he is also a transplant from another country - Dominica in the Caribbean; his Dutch is not very fluent. He has tried to speak to me in Dutch, but he's given up!
When I first got to Holland, I took the proverbial bull by the horns eager to immerse myself in the language, the culture and surroundings. However, I don't think that the Dutch population have been too exuberant towards me, I guess due to my twisting up of Dutch syntaxes and the mangling of Dutch pronounciations. But I tried, I really, really tried!
I searched and researched free online language resources - there are so many out there; I just used my new best friend 'Google' to utilise my Dutch searching abilities and the world of free websites and resources opened up like Aladdin's treasure trove. I discounted paying for any language course as my husband's budget was tight. I mean, I'm trying not to look at all of this as a failure - as I see this as a victim's option - but I feel that I am constantly swimming upstream and being passed on the way by the bigger fish out there in Dutch Land.
So, I guess it is back to the drawing board and back to my online language learning resources. Oh, and a large dosage of optimism to keep my Dutch tongue alive and kicking.
Tot Ziens!

Wednesday 30 June 2010

In celebration of Caroline Wuraola Ogunnaike Life!

Another year has passed by - so quick.
Today, it's the 21st year of my mama's passing and I realise that I miss her so much, but paradoxically, my mama was (and still remains) a mystery to me.
As I get deeper in reading the Bible, I'm always looking at the scriptures which relates to how children and their parents are to be with one another. Ironically enough - and this makes perfect sense to me - I'm only beginning to see the true essence of these scriptures, in relation to my own life. I will touch on this issue another time. I just wanted to say to my mama's spirit:

I celebrate the wonderful life of my mama, Caroline Wuraola Ogunnaike, who passed to the other side on June 30th 1989.
She was a wonderful mother, who gave birth to two sets of twins (me being one of them).
Mama Ibeji, may your life, legacy and caring love that you passed on to me always shine.
Ashe-o!

Although I really didn't know you mama, I appreciate the struggles that you made for your children in the UK. I acknowledge that life was hard for you and your voice was muted.

Thursday 17 June 2010

Dichotomies

I've been living in Holland for nearly six months now and the europhia that I initially had about moving here is slowly wilting away. I am without a job or my own money; I am completely financially dependent on somebody who is  semi dependent on the government. I am trying to see the light between the trees; the light at the end of the tunnel, but it keeps on fading.
However, with this dilemma that I face above, I also have seeked God again. I belong to a church. The majority of the folk that worship there are African (West)/African Caribbean (Surinam, so there is a sense of belonging for me. There's been quite a few issues at the church, but to be honest, right now, it is my saving grace.I am reading The Word, getting in touch with my gospel spirit and basically, bathing in Jesus Light. To reiterate, the church, the church family and Pastor Thompson has been my saving grace. On a couple of occasions I have asked him to intervene on me in a objective way regarding Enson. He has always come through. I find it so difficult being here where I cannot have an intelligent and intellectual conversation... Anyway, the church has saved me from falling into a dark pit of darkness. See, I am facing dichotomies in my life and I feel that I am at the pivotal point of a crossroad. See, since joining the church, I feel that each day I am spiritually growing. I am praying more and seeking God's presence in my life. But on the other hand, I feel that I am spiritually dying. There is a lot of stuff going on with Enson and his children, and I am feeling the inevitable impact and fall out. The relationship that I felt could be in has been a disappointment. I find it difficult at times to communicate on a level with Enson. He tells me that I need to check myself. I do that at all times. However, how can I communicate with a man that is filled with bitterness and regret?
I feel like a dying flower, that is always seeking the light, and has captured the light but now left to slowly wilt.
I was going to work in London. I had already called my main agency. A job was lined up, however, my sister - even though she wanted me to stay with her et al - let me down at the last hurdle. She completely let me down. I then reached out to other family members. Again, I was let down. Initially, I felt anger, pain and rage. However, in the aftermath, I had to exhale and let the air of forgiveness penetrate so that I could then forgive those who had let me down. I refuse to let my disaapointment tinge my continual spiritual growth.

So, I will continue to pray to God. Seek and believe in my faith and trust in Him, because I know that He has me in His precious sight. I know that I am a Child of God and that He will never forsake me. I know that God is in total control of my life and His plan is still formulating/manifesting for me. I know that I have to go through these hurdles and obstacles in order to spiritually grow at all periods of my life and also to become spiritually stronger.

Tuesday 20 April 2010

Stepping Out on Faith...

As I get deeper in living this life in Holland, I ask myself if I 'stepped out on faith' with this life changing decision. Simply because I feel extremely isolated out here - socially, mentally, creatively et al. There is nowhere I can get intellectual stimulation or a sense of any creative license. I have no friends out here where there can be any objectivity to my feelings, where I can rant and rave and just projectile vomit out all of my hopelessness and a sense of unbelonging in this environment I call 'home'. I attempted to speak the language, but to be honest I have lost the motivation for it. It's not because it is hard per se, it's what will I do with it? Yes, it will give me a better stronghold in obtaining a job, but I have asked myself, do I really want to work in Holland? I joined a church, but again, I am not feeling the Spirit of the place as there are too many hypocrites there. Too much folk looking for their own glory and salvation instead of being fed spiritually by the Creator.
What do I do in the interim? I become desentisized to watching television. Stuff that I download off the internet. Programmes which give me a sense of familarity, programmes that may not make any sense, but programmes where I can just *disappear* and not think about my current life and the uncertain direction and path it has led me on.
I also feel a sense of guilt. Here I am, over here, taking on somebody else emotional roundabout, and all the energy which to be honest I feel is wasted and not appreciated, and my youngest son is suffering from living with a father who I feel is giving him mental torture. I cannot be there for him and I feel so conflicted at this moment. As I write these words, I cry. I cry tears of hopelessness, frustration, depression, anger at my lack of financial situation, and a sense of my emotions not being understood by the one person who I felt loved me. Because right now, financially, I cannot make the decision that needs to be made. One that will make complete sense to me. I didn't think that I would be nearly 47 years old without a plan for my life.Without money where I can be financially stable and secure to make decisions if it ever came to the decision that I want to make right now. It seems that things have gone topsy turvy and I have been committed to a life sentence where there is no time for parole. As for the bail? Who can bail me out but myself?
Sometimes I pray hard to God and hope he hears my prayers. I have faith, I guess that is why I stepped out on it. It wasn't just one decison as well. The most important choice I made was that I came out to be with somebody who I thought I loved. Do I still love him? I really don't know, that is why I have my crying spurts. I am still conflicted if my role here is the be all and ending for me.
Anyway, off to London for the weekend this Friday. In hindsight, I wish I was staying over longer. I just need some space where I can think objectively and honestly. To see where my path of destiny takes me next.

Saturday 20 March 2010

Marching forward with my creativities!

All my life, I have struggled to call myself a writer. Sometimes I claim the title, then I snatch it back as quickly as I utter it, because I say to myself what have I ever published? My procrastination and self doubt of my words have pushed me into the pit where I keep on denying my God given talent of writing and creating with my words.Then I get stuck into a vacum, a cycle of inactivity. Then I beat myself up.
Many years ago, I used to belong to a writers/performers group called the Rhythm Writers. We were relatively well known on the Black poetry circuit in London. We'd get invited to places to recite our poetry. We even put on a couple of shows. I went down a storm with my recitals. Ahhhh... the memories! In hindsight, I should've really capitalised on all of this, but my life was going 100 mph whilst I was trying to catch up with life. I was always on the move with my children and trying to create an anchor for them where they could grow and where I could outgrow my awkwardness of knowing who I was and what I was going to become. Now that they have grown I am now snatching the title of 'writer' back. I will only call myself an author when I start believing in my words and start publishing again. I am just being realistic and at the same time, optimistic.
I've had this amazing idea for a non-fiction book (click on the title of this blog post and it will take you to a site I created for this idea), that has been kicking around for about five years. I'm not going to beat myself up about the lack of attention or the inactivity that I have had with this genesis of an idea, because to me, that is being self defeating. However, I've decided (especially living here in Netherlands and just having all the time in the world to create ) to kickstart the idea and revitalise this book and see where it takes me. I've already reached out to my perceived target, so again, I will see where it takes me. I have linked it, so if anybody is reading these words, go check it out!
Anyway, back to my marching forward with my creativities. I have had so many books over the years about tapping into my creativity, my writing. But, to be honest, they were, just, well, books. Self help books to help me kickstart, however, in hindsight, I was not ready - emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically. Now, I am. I feel that I need to rely on my inner power... the Spirit/Goddess within me and just keep on marching to my rhythmic beat of my words. I came across this mantra, which I have adopted for my own mantra in context for my writing:

I am going to write a novel and get it published. I'm going to do it because writing a novel is worthwhile and because I have the talent to do it. I am going to do it because I have something to say to the world. I refuse to let anything get in my way.


I will say this to myself everyday. I have signed and dated it which gives me further credibility to own it.
Lastly,in context with my writing, I have to take heed and realise that humility is one thing, but FALSE HUMILITY can keep you from doing the things you want to get done. Yes, this makes a whole lot of sense to me, not only with the abandonment of my creative talents but also, my life.

Thursday 18 March 2010

Nollywood movies/Memories of my mama

Nollywood movies/Memories of my mama

I've officially become a stan/addict of Nollywood movies. I just can't get enough of them!
For folks who are familiar with this genre, you've all seen the atrocious acting, the awful story lines, the sudden drop of audio et al. Nonetheless, I am totally addicted, as is my husband! In fact, I've started watching these movies online, as there is no Nollywood channel in Holland.

When I watch these movies, particularly the older women characters, I think about my mama; the drama, the joy, the emotions espoused within them. I then try to understand what she want through, living in an alien environment and trying to make good for her children in the belly of the beast.

Then it got me thinking... Let me rewind for a moment.

Last year, a really good friend of mine did some filming of me - it's part of her course for her Masters in documentary film. She filmed me in my neighbourhood and asked me about my childhood memories. I recited the below piece of poetry; I then started to write a piece about my mama - still unfinished. I will be finishing it off, but it's going to be long.

Motherless Child?

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

seekin' that cord

to reattach

so that memories could solidly be matched

of eating:


Egusi soup and pounded yam on wintery weekday nights

fighting for that precious piece of chicken in red palm stew delight

eating black eyed beans religiously on Saturdays before visiting Ridley Road market,

where my mama preached to Oshun daughters, being embarrassed as their Yoruba accented timbres were raised higher, higher,

bartering for bargain prices to be pushed lower,lower...


Getting ready for church/Sunday school, and hearing the dulcet tones of Jim Reeves on the living room's gramophone,

sitting crouched over on the kitchen floor,

whilst the pale icon of Jesus Christ watched on in pitied bemusement, squeezed between my mama's thighs like a slice of lemon,

whilst ears pushed forward as I waited for the onslaught of the hot comb on my nappy crown


to become acceptable in the tabernacle of hallelujah/praise the Lord!


too many memories that I have digested,

but why do I feel like a motherless child, far away from home?


Taiwo Ogunnaike
© 2008

Excerpt 'Memories Recalled: HerStory'

This is just a short excerpt on the story that I am still writing and developing.

She hated Sundays with a passion. Hated being paraded in front of the audience who always whispered behind large paper fans that her voice was angelic and heavenly, but was a pity that her father consistently played the field, kicking many home goals with some of the women parishioners.

She hated shivering in her vest and knickers in front of the parrafin heater after her hair had been preened and meticulously styled for the church audience. She detested the ritual of dressing up and being placed on a stage in front of the church audience, whose virture of attendance was due to their perceived social standing within the community. Religion was just a pause, an afterthought. Whispers on sacred lips on Sabbath and the rest of the week, with obscenities sprouting from the same pursed mouths.

They carried their leather bound Bibles as beacons of respectability and materialism. Discreetly checking for designer labels out of hoodwinked eyes, feigning innocence with their stares. With their Bibles, they turned the pages to quote relevant passages, which they thought integrated into their perfect, comfortable yet stagnant lives. She wasn't aware of the term 'hypocrite' until she became much wiser to it later on in life.

So, her hair became a foundation on how she would look like on Sundays. Slick and shiny like a motorcycle helmet. She often asked herself why she couldn't have straight and flowing hair so that she could bypass this weekly humilation. Why couldn't she voice her own valid opinions on how her hair and clothes were to look. She dreaded the way that her mother expressions quickly switched just like the UK weather, whenever she timidly questioned her overall authority. Surely, she had a voice, didn't she?

Some Sundays, she just wanted to run wild in the street, without hearing the mournful strainings of Jim Reeves. She wanted to run wild in the street with her hair uncombed and play 'house' with the Dermott children who lived two streets away. Her mother always told her that they had a satanical influence over her, in as much that they had no respect for their elders and the constant slip of curse words from their pouty mouths that could be heard in the next street. Each time when her mother came wearily dragging her feet down the street, she would just give her daughter that LOOK. Her expressions was ingrained and programmed into the girl's young mind and that was her signal to go home, where a hot bath waited for her, with home made herbs imported all the way from Nigeria. She hated standing there trembling and naked, whilst her mother poured scalding water - spiked with dettol -from the top of her head to cleanse away all her sins, as she used a rough straw scrubber, speaking in guttural tones that she didn't understand and which ultimately, frightened her. After this ritual, her mother would use this funny smelling black soap telling her that this would keep away the demons that always followed her after her playing with the Dermott children.
Her mother hated her playing with the Dermott children. In fact she wanted her to stay inside where she could study her Bible and recite them in a way which would bring a solitary smile to her tired face. But the girl had no choice. She was a latchkey chid, and her key hang stubbornly around her neck like a talisman. She had to make up her own entertainment, whilst her mother was on her hands and knees cleaning up the mess in corporate offices in the city.

Taiwo Ogunnaike
©2009

Creativity... A State of Mind?

Funny enough, I received an email from a really good friend of mine this morning. As I read it, I laughed out so loud. I mean, genuinely, not the 'LOL' one usually inserts as a means of lazily expressing oneself in emails or online chats. Anyway, as usual, I digress.
My friend Ife, who is an amazing writer - just an overall amazing ball of creativity - told me in this email that she met somebody recently on the train to Manchester. I was guffawing when I read her words, because I KNOW Ife's pained expressions when folks invade her 'space'. Apparently, this brother is a poet from Nigeria and he's published. She then started to rave about me and my writings, informing him that I wrote like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Hmmmm...I love this writer and I am so greatful of Ife's comparison to my own writing, as I find it is a genuine compliment.
Funny enough, as I was through with reading Ife's hilarious words (which are like a life jacket whilst in spartan Arnhem, NL), I read my daily horoscope. The words literally leapt out at me and confronted me in my face. Let me quote the full content of my horoscope:


Hello Taiwo !
Your Sun Sign: Virgo
Date of birth: 11 September 1963
Your daily horoscope for 18 March 2010
You could write well today, whether it be fiction or journalism. There is a great possibility that you have given some thought to a literary line of work. Why do you hesitate to try? It is never too late. Certainly anyone can find the time to grab paper and pen and write a story. What are you waiting for, Taiwo? If you have this attitude in everything you do, how in the world does anything ever get done?


I mean, is the above a coincidence or is it God's way of anonymously telling me something? I think I will opt for the latter. See, I really have to yell it out there to the universe. Being creative is a talent and it is a state of mind. In my opinion, the two cannot co-exist without one another.

I have so many ideas about my words, but to be honest, I have been like a crab under a large pebble on a beach, waiting for the tide to become high so I can be swept away on my current of dreams. Sometimes, I have flowings of ideas and then I just come to large block. That's where my stagnation and procrastination comes in, enveloping me like a toxic cloud.

Why can I not recognise my talent? Is it because I have this life long mantra left over from my mama that being a writer was not tangible enough? Will this always be my mental block where I am left at the starting block, whilst other writers take a lead and run ahead in the race, leaving me behind, once again?

I have to push on with my words and I feel that this blog - regardless if it is read by one solitary person out there in cyberland or is hit on daily - is a vessel and tool of my burgeoning creativity, especially now that I have all the time in the world, between learning Dutch and just, well, being.

Thursday 18 February 2010

That 'Lightbulb' Moment

First of all, I really need to change the title of this blog, as I am no longer living in London, UK. Anyway, I just needed to say that:)

Have you ever had that 'a ha' moment? That 'lightbulb' moment, that suddenly illuminates your thoughts and tell you that 'No, you are not crazy?' Well, that just happened to me!

I've just finished reading my astrological reading for the day and the gist of what it was saying was to start acknowledging my self worth... start to embrace who you are and start to romance yourself first, as I (well, Virgos) have a tendency to lavish praise and self worth on others without acknowledging self - this has always been my downfall and paradoxically, my goal in life. However, the problem with me is that I don't pursue a happy balance within all of this. I could easily place it onto the mantle of my unhappy childhood, but I feel that's just a cop out and far too simplistic and easy for me to just lay the burden at the vestiges of my childhood. No, see, I'm somebody who looks for peace. I'm the first one to offer the proverbial olive branch to justify a means to an end.
Funny enough, whilst I was reading these words, I read other words in my email in another message that I received. I'm on Jewel Diamond Taylor's mailing list and each Wednesday I receive this affirmation email, entitled 'Wednesday Word'. Yes, I know that it's a day late, but sometimes Spirit/Creator leads you to places where you do not know where you are going to land as such. Because I am a lover of words and have a healthy addiction to reading, this was God's way of acknowledging my current pain and longing of being understood in my present time. Anyway, I digress. Jewel stated that and I quote:

"How do I find my purpose?" That is one of the most common reasons I am asked to provide life coaching, training, retreats and conference presentations. Besides my health and my family, I feel very blessed because I discovered life purpose and signature strengths. I tried many paths before discovering my purpose and calling.



My personality has the capacity of curiosity and a trial and error approach. While there are others who have an "all or nothing" approach to implement ideas. Some people get stuck with excuses, fear, procrastination or perfectionism. I am still on assignment to encourage and empower others to seek, ask and knock until they discover their life purpose. Success and life purpose are not "one size fits all". There is something divinely unique in your spiritual DNA. There is a divine plan purpose, and a gift your life can bring to others for God's glory.



When you say "yes" to your purpose and "yes" to God's way to fulfill your purpose, you will become an unstoppable force.

That is one thing that is stifling me right now. I feel that I have put my purpose into hibernation and others have taken over. Again, I am grateful and full of gratitude for some of the current things that are going on in my life, but it's just not ENOUGH. I am slowly beginning to resent certain aspects of my life, because I feel that my full potentiality has been suppressed.
How can I shake this feeling off? How can I retain my purpose in life? These are the thoughts that I have to continue asking myself.

Presently, I am in a country, without no money, nobody neutral to speak to and a general feeling of variable moods. I am still procrastinating over my creativity, as I feel that my self worth has been buried for the sake of others.
My 'lightbulb' moment needs to be maintained at all costs. I need this moment to remind me of my soul purpose in life and for it to be the light that shines it way out of the darkness that is in front of me right now.

Saturday 16 January 2010

Lonliness/Redemption

It's 3.20pm, a Saturday and I feel so alone.
If I was in London right now, I'd probably be at Ridley Road market or just chilling. But right now, my life seems to have taken an indirect turning much to my discomfort. Remember those emotional upheavals I mentioned the other day on the blog, well, I am feeling it right now.

Over here in dull, gray, monotone Arnhem I feel so alone. I have no one whatsoever to speak to when I am feeling in doubt. I feel like a plant wilting. A plant without no oxygen. I feel aimless woah, where did that thought come from? If anybody asked about me they would describe me as a sunny, optimistic, look at the bright side of life Taiwo. But now? I feel worthless. It's bad enough that I don't have anybody to emphasise with me, but most importantly, nobody who I can communicate with and talk about my true real feelings. The 'person who shall not be named' is the last person who I want to talk to right now. Maybe it's a real culture clash, because I talk about my 'feelings', he choses not to at times. See, when we used to have arguements and such, I felt a level of safety, because at least I was able to go back to London and lick my wounds and regroup my feelings, but now, I am in the eye of the storm and there seems no escaping for me at all. There is nowhere for me to go. I have no money, nothing to call for my own. I am literally stuck in this nightmare and I cannot see a light at the end of this tunnel for now.
I am 46 years old and I feel that the sacrifices that I have made over the years have been futile. I know that I am an intelligent woman, but I feel that I haven't truly thought through all of this. I decided to take the olive branch but abandon the buds.
I can't speak the dang language, and I am just, in a sense, utterly miserable.

How do I feel right now? Dazed, shut down and depressed. Only a miracle now can save me... Do I step out on faith or adhere to my prayers and hope that Spirit can hear and receive me?

As my lonliness swallows me up I will keep on keeping on... but it's so HARD.
Hmmm, just a BAD day overall, and I know that I am venting.

Friday 8 January 2010

The Musing and Words of a UK African Woman Living In London: Freewrite - 'Desert'

The Musing and Words of a UK African Woman Living In London: Freewrite - 'Desert'

Freewrite - 'Desert'



There is so much that I need to say. Let me just start and say that I have decided to rejuvenate my blog. I intend to write in it at least once a week. I have commited myself to this notion and I am going to try and stick to this.
I understand that I have left... no, abandoned my blog. I see the last time I wrote in it was six months ago. Well, my life has taken a different fork in the road, but I will blog on this later on.

After leaving London and moving to Holland, I have a lot of time on my hands. I realise that I have to take advantage of this time, because, at the end of the day, time waits for no one, and most importantly, I'm sick and tired of procrastinating when it comes to my creativity, I need to take a good look at this, because I feel that I am just wasting what God has preordained for me. He has given me a voice, but due to my on and off procrastining attitude, I have been pretty lax hence the stagnation of my writing. Currently, I am in the midst of a a lot of emotional upheaval, but as I stated, I will blog this next time.

I've just started reading a book that I brought ten years ago in New Jersey. The book's entitled 'Room to Write: Daily Invitations to a Writer's Life', which is written by Bonni Goldberg.

The book is divided into two hundred studies, and the gist of the book is to use these studies as a companion, as such, to your writing. The author recommends that you do about four or five studies a week, but really, it's up to the user to schedule how many studies that can be used.
Basically, these studies can be used to begin journal entries (I guess blog entries in the technology age! lol), as warm ups or sketches before getting down to the 'serious writing', to dig deeper for ideas for a piece or to help develop characters for a novel you may have started. Thus, to 'prompt'ideas for your creativity.


Now, this is what I need. My writing has cobwebs over it, so I definitely need an MOT to kickstart my creativity back into gear again. This is the book to do it.

My first exercise was called 'diving', which is sometimes known as 'freewrite'. This writing exercise lets you write completely uncensored. So, in other words, for anal folk like me (lol), I don't get to look at my grammar, comprehension or punctuation. I just write and write and write without stopping. So, that's what I did. I wrote without stopping. I wrote from instinct and intuition. I came up for air after I completed on A4 size page. It was painful to look at my flow, because after reading my conscious flowings, I said to myself that I was being 'real' with myself - this always seems to happen when I undertake this particular task.
I got to chose a subject and I chose 'desert'. I was able to use this word in many ways. My pen flowed on the A4 lined sheet and this is what I came up with. Please bear in mind that I have taken poetic license to correct and edit my original piece, but this is it in essence:

Freewrite - Desert




"I feel that I have deserted my dreams and desires. In order to compromise my soul, I've deserted the path that was preordained to me.
This desert is an oasis of hopelessness, of an unfulfilled wish; a stuttering dream that has strangled the life force out of me. All I have to offer is tears and a sense of bereavement. I'm left abandoned and feel bereft in this emotional desert. Everything is all jumbled up and a sense of confusion is overwhelming all of my senses. I feel dull and lethargic. I feel suffocated by the lack of misunderstanding of where I currently find myself. So, what do I do? Do I just succumb to these ascending feelings or do I just put my head down with the rest of society and tell myself that everything is a-ok? This desert is now taking over my dreams. I feel desireless in this desert. The person who I daily see reflected back in the mirror is not me - at all. It's like I have morphed into another person. The effervescence behind the windows to my soul have gone flat and I'm not sure for how long. Truth be told, I do not really recognise myself anymore. I am just a shell of my former shelf. A cliche I know, but I feel that my life is a cliche at the moment. Right now, my life is an ellipsis. The space that I feel right now is a void that I trying to understand. Trying to make sense of this emotional desert. I feel empty and at loss. This desert is threatening to consume all of my thoughts and overwhelm all of my logical thinking. This desert is leaving me thirsty for the life that I once had. I have no money whatsoever and I am having to depend on somebody else emotionally, financially, mentally and I feel right now that I am being misunderstood with the above values from the person who I thought that I could depend on. It's hard to communicate with someone who just doesn't 'get' you, but I will have to write about that at another stage.
This desert is a vast landscape of nothingless. I feel that I have become a failure in my dreams that I once had and cultivated."

Wow... as I read the above words over, I felt a realness and an uncensored (albeit adjusted a little bit in terms of grammar etc) to make some sense. This is how I REALLY feel. I'm tired of masking my feelings up. The words and emotions that I have wrote and conveyed may change over time, but the thing about freewriting is just to go with the flow, and that is what I intend to do on this blog and with my future writing.

Adios for now...