Dangermond.org

My affirmation this morning: I open my heart and express all the love that I am.  

FEET OF CLAY – The phrase comes from the Old Testament (Dan.2:31-32). There the Hebrew captain Daniel interprets a dream for Nebuchadnezzar, founder of the new Babylonian Empire. Nebuchadnezzar had dreamed of a giant idol with golden head, silver arms and chest, brass thighs and body, and iron legs. Only the feet of this image, compounded of iron and potter’s clay, weren’t made wholly of metal. Daniel told Nebuchadnezzar that the clay feet of the figure made it vulnerable, that it prophesized the breaking apart of his empire. Over the years readers of the Bible were struck with the phrase ‘feet of clay’ in the story and it was used centuries ago to describe an unexpected flaw or vulnerable point in the character of a hero or any admired person.  From the “Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins” by Robert Hendrickson (Facts on File, New York, 1997).

I sent a note to my fellow limo passengers and said, wow, we went from zero to sixty in no time, how did we do that? And the response was a resounding, you! 

I’ve been pensive lately about another common denominator – a dangerous liaison which has caused me to question myself, my motives, all thrown in with a little roughing myself up for choices I have made in the past and recently and wanting more than anything to do only those things that would make me proud of myself. I do subscribe to Maya Angelou’s wisdom – You did then what you knew how to do and when you knew better… you did better! – we are a certain way, we have a proclivity to burn at a certain flame, we attract those who are attracted to the multifacetedness of ourselves – the good and the bad – but we are the common denominator in our actions. 

A bright flame provides comfort and warmth and light, it doesn’t have to burn, destroy and disrupt. But you have to know that, it’s the alchemy that occurs when you know. 

I slept in a little this morning, feeling like I needed it today – instead of the 5:30 wake up, I laid in bed through the bells chiming at 6 and finally got up at 6:15. When the dogs and I started around the bayou there was a blanket of grey cloud cover overhead and yet the tops of the houses were staged in this bright yellow light – it had the quality of an overexposed photograph. Loca and I went into the park and as we made our way around the bench where I do my morning meditation, three large white swans were entering the lagoon, one at a time they gracefully slid in the water and glided out towards the middle. I sat on the bench and they glided in front of me, all beauty and grace. Again I felt such joy in my heart I almost burst. 

A man I see most mornings greeted me and said, “Aren’t the swans beautiful?

Yesterday when J was putting on his fleece pullover to leave, he looked at me and said, “Ocho, do you miss me when I’m not here?” And I said, oh boy do I. I said I think about you all the time and can’t wait for the day when it’s time to come get you. He said, “Sometimes I miss you so much I can’t breathe.” 

I’ve been told a lot of sweet things in my life, but I must say that one is forever etched on my heart.   

I was tempted by the fruit of another but pulled back in time to see that this wasn’t a healthy place for me to go and as attractive as it looked – it did not fall into my criteria of do no harm.

What did Malcolm X say? If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything. 

Sunday morning, I walked over to S’s house and he made me a delicious breakfast of scrappel – don’t ask – but as we sat at the table eating I watched J in her new ska-noe motoring up and down the bayou. She couldn’t fit under the bridge because the water is too damn high so she just went back and forth between Dumaine and Harding. Then suddenly she had her dog Lucky in the boat with her wearing a life jacket – and together they passed back and forth about twenty times. 

There was something about the moment that left a haunting image in my mind of how small a town we live in here in New Orleans – and in particular – how small our little bayou community is.  

Woke this morning to the truck suspended on top of two huge garbage cans – my attempt to take home L last night and forgetting I had put both cans right behind the truck. Thank God for Roy is all I have to say. He leveraged the tires with wood and shook his head and said, “I don’t want to know.” 

Meanwhile, my canoe was nearly capsized and had broken loose from its lock. I had called S to come help me with the truck but Roy came out first – S drove up and pointed out the canoe half up on the grass and half nose diving into the bayou. When it rains it pours.

And I have bruises all over the front of me from negotiating dancing and movement in the limo. 

I’m sure this is going to be a good week – I’m just not sure when it’s going to start being good. 

For Fatma’s birthday, she rented a limo and ten of us drove around in the pouring rain dancing to a CD mix I made for her composed of Turkish pop songs and Fatmalicious (Fergilicious) and Girls Just Want to Have Fatma (Fun) and drinking champagne and planning all our trips to Turkey. And we took about 400 pictures. Wow – girls just want to have fun – it’s true – of the course the men in the limo were having a good time too. 

I had the most intense erotic dream last night — a man I know was standing in back of me, close enough I could hear his heart beating. My whole being ached for him and I could smell the desire on his breath – he brought his hands up to my shoulders and touched me inappropriately – my face lit on fire. A lump formed in my throat and I pushed him away with my mind – pushed and pushed and pushed him away until I could breathe.  

Across the room was a woman, oblivious to his advances towards me, but this was her man, and instead of turning to him and saying no, I said to her with all the strength I could muster, “I will not do this.”

Two good things came from this dream – faced with an overwhelming desire, I chose not to hurt someone else to satisfy myself. And given the fact that I offered everyone on the boat the other night a business class ticket to anywhere they wanted to fly if they could find a person who could get my mojo back – I woke with certainty that my mojo hasn’t gone anywhere – I’m still the same hot blooded woman I’ve always been – halle-fuckin-lujah.