Mirror Dearest

The recent viral footage of Michelle Bishop in Ohio has sparked drama across social media. Many are quick to label her actions as racially motivated, but I believe she deserves the benefit of the doubt. Michelle was alone, walking with her children at night, when she noticed a man in an SUV driving slowly near them. Later, LaMichael himself admitted he was simply looking at Christmas lights - something most people don’t expect a man to be doing alone. Michelle had never seen him before, and her anxiety understandably escalated when he appeared near the same house she fled to for safety. Context matters. Ohio is one of the biggest trafficking hubs in America , and the unfortunate reality is that predators come in all colors . It’s entirely plausible that Michelle didn’t even register LaMichael’s ethnicity in the dark (he’s light-skinned) - nor does it matter. What mattered in that moment was that she felt vulnerable, alone with her children, and confronted by something unusual: a lar...

It’s not unusual for many people to wish harm upon those who have hurt them. You may even feel justified in doing so, perhaps they are objectively deserving of the worst. But here’s the catch, you are the receptacle for your sentiments, thoughts, and feelings. Faith, mysticism, and physics affirm this same universal truth through different means. Please take a chance on this simple ‘prayer magic’ as I am sure the results will surprise you. It was given to me by my grandmother and has worked for me, many times over. The only time it hasn’t worked - is when I have chosen not to do it. Although it’s counterintuitive, I believe it works for a few not-so-obvious reasons: 1. It forces you to consciously change your vibration. You cannot manifest positivity in your own life when channeling negativity for someone else’s. 2. This prayer boldly assumes the unspoken for your own life. Naturally we all prioritize ourselves and those we love and are fond of. Therefore, what we wish for our ‘enem...

Humans are complex beings with complicated stories layered on top of the generations that precede us. The hero recorded in one version of history is the villain who wiped out kingdoms in another.  Serial killer Ted Bundy worked a crisis line in Seattle where he was exceptionally empathetic and patient to those he rescued from suicide. Charles Manson mentored several addicts and trauma survivors away from addiction and into recovery (at least initially). Whatever their motives, this is who they were to most people who knew them. Their positive impact on the world remains relevant. Denying as much creates truth resistance and even hostility in those who have a positive emotional bond to the person who co-exists alongside a dark passenger .  Abusers, even pedophiles, are often loved and valued to those not victimized by them. Revelations of abuse imply that the accused is less worthy of love and acceptance. Therein lies the rejection of painful truths in families and com...

  The courage to leave something you love is bittersweet. To leave not because it failed you, not because it hurt you, but simply because your best lies elsewhere. Toulouse has been beautiful to me. I dreamt of it when I was living in America, before I knew its name or that it even existed. It’s where my children and I realized France as our home. It’s where my husband was born, and where I met him. It’s where old friendships were rekindled by those who crossed the ocean to visit me. An ocean that has been whispering to me for years.  And to my partly Basque husband; it’s been a call home. Since becoming a family we’ve spent part of our summers on the Basque coast, every year - first dreaming and then planning for the day that our time  there would be permanent. Our plan was two years from now. After returning home from our last extended visit, I knew it needed to happen now . The terms aren’t perfect. The plan isn’t finished. But we know where we feel best; and we...

Every life has meaning, even when the evils we're born into prevent us from finding our own. It doesn't stop the world from using us, and some devil from stealing everything we didn't know we had. My uncle Dietrick never had a job, a driver's license, or a bank account. He died the night before our birthday; and would have been 44 years old, as I turned 42. Uncle Dee was my grandmother's last child, and the first and only baby she had with her eternal husband. He was a miracle baby. Being my young teen mother's first child, whom she was forced to keep as a punishment for fornication; I was lucky to be a gift to my Uncle Dee on his second birthday.  In our earliest formative years, Dietrick and I lived as siblings, with my value to him giving me a sense of belonging in our family. For myself and our cousins; Uncle Dee was the source of healing laughter, in a family plagued with mental illnesses that our elders attributed to black magic and voodoo curses. Grand-a...