Self Care

Yesterday I was suppose to go work out with a friend but was way to exhausted to function when it was time to go. After a not so satisfactory visit to my doctor I knew it was time to get back in the routine of weekly exercise and overall better self care. So today although I knew I wouldn't have time to work out I knew that I was going out to a birthday party and if the music was right I would get a workout in (on the dance floor). I rushed home to try to freshen up before my friend came to pick me up, I had already decided that although they aren't the best looking boots for a club, they were comfortable, and I was keeping them on.

When we walked into the establishment I was slightly happy I hadn't put on my Beyonce outfit or heels. The club/bar/resteraunt looked like it was the original studio of Solid Gold or Soul Train. It had electric lights and orange and brown furniture. The obviously older crowd was scattered about and mingling with each other. You could tell who had made it there during happy hour because they had already hit the dance floor and were slow grinding the air. My friend and I found our party, took our seat and began to take in the sights. The host at our table graciously introduced use to each person at the table right before she slide her way to dance floor. She said she had been there since happy hour and was three drinks in. Her smile and  demeanor was infectious and made you feel right at home. I swad back and forth to the smove R&B and began chatting with the other people at the table. The guy across from me was sweating profusly as he grooved to every song that came on, you would swear it was the best song he had ever heard. I couldn't help but smile as he grabbed the hand of each woman that walked by him encouraging them to dance. Funny thing is that they all did without hesitation. I just knew even if I didnt get my "Beyonce on" I would at least be able to get in some good sight seeing.

And then they played James Brown Big Payback!The people jumped out of their seats like hot potatoes and I sung as if I had a score to settle. I love that song and obviously so did everyone in there. At that point it seemed as though the dj could do no wrong and every burden that any of us had was being released through the music. We connected through the words and rythmns and it was obvious that was exactly what we all needed. The connection brought so much happiness and freedom. In that moment I understood that it matters not what we are given but how we accept it and what we do with it that gives it purpose. Although it was no Taj Mahal that building and those people were exactly what I needed. I needed to connect with humanity and the freedom to be who I am and to sing James Brown Big Pay Back as loud as I wanted. What made it better was that no one cared because they were singing just as loud. By the end of the night I had danced, sang, laughed and made new friends. Now thats what I call self care :)

Jess

Taking Chances

Today I decided to step outside of myself. I've thought about creating this blog for over a year now but thought that my words would be meaningless and insignificant. I wondered if I would have meaningful content to fill the world in on day after day or would my interest waver and slowly fade? Or more importantly would those who may be initially interested slowly become bored? So I  sat on this for months. Then created the profile and sat on it for days, until today March 22, 2012 after I long day at work and evem longer list of events in the news that prompted me to do this. With the death of 17 year old Trayvon Martin setting in I sat back on my bed and thought, I have one life and who knows how many minutes to live in this existence. Whether it be profound or nonsense my voice matters even if only to me, and all it took was to type that first T and here I am. Welcome to my world. Whether the ride be short or long I can ensure you it will be a ride.

Find out more about the Trayvon Martin case here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/20/trayvon-martin-liveblog_n_1368298.html

Jess