Coaching For An Extraordinary Life!
For all the waiting, watching, wondering, wailing, whispering, and willfull thinking that you have done know that all that you do to make peace with yourself, others, and God is not going unnoticed. This is a simple reminder to you to endure. Welcome to your year!
God loves you strong,
Danita*
Hey Boo! Are you tired yet? Trust me, I’ve worn it too. Release the pain to God and be your authentic you. Pain is pint size and can fit into most of our purses and be carried around like a compact. We find ourselves taking it out at every stop, looking into the mirror and smearing the pain on our faces. Pain loves to be held and snuggled and it grows with each passing moment because the more you hold onto it, the more it attaches itself to your hopes, dreams, desires, and being.
If you are thinking about the number of masks that you have worn in your life, I’ve got your attention and that is a great thing because frankly, I am exhausted with wearing mine. When I realized that God wanted my heart not the pretense mock up of myself, it began to make perfect sense as to why we try to float through life as though everything is okay. Let me tell you something that I have just discovered in my thirty-four years on this earth…………..
*ish stinks!
It can be very subtle and alarming at first but gradually overtime, that thing that we try to disclose will be exposed for all the world to see and our vices that used to protect us and insulate us so strongly like an armored truck will no more and we are left at a crossroads to deal……..
the abortion that you never healed from………..
the graduation that you never reached…………
not making peace with the scale and falling into a box of twinkies night after night……….
kissing her while you are imagining yourself wanting to be kissed by him but he’s married……….
and a whole host of things that we as a population of people are dealing with. People magazine does not do the world justice at all in capturing the spirit of issues that are affecting the human race. Amid the glamour and the cars, and the celebrities toting lattes down the street, are a population of people strung out on dope without hope and sitting on the kitchen floor wondering how to cut themselves in silence. When you don’t talk, you get talked to and for anyone that has dealt with the silence of yourself, you can relate to what I am saying.
The devil is not a red tailed imp that we see on television or in movies. He is real and has a purpose that is laid out in John 10:10 where it says, “Satan comes to kill, steal, and destroy, but God came to ensure that we have access to an abundant life.” So there……..we know that his purpose for us is not good because if left up to him we would suffocate in our mask and never take it off!
Something smells a little funky……….I know because I used to smell funky too. Spraying perfume on my face and wearing Noxema to hid the marks of my mask and ready to defend myself against anyone who would dare to recognize that I was wearing one. The good news is no one can make you come to the realization that you are not being yourself like you. You are with you consistently and are familiar with all of your ways just like God is, so sniff, sniff, and tell me what you smell?
One of my fav poets, Paul Laurence Dunbar drafted a poem that touched me in the day when the paper and pen were my coveted friend. His poem goes like this…..
WE wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, and mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile beneath our feet, and long the mile; but let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask!
Take a minute and think about the enormity of this poem and the message that Paul was attempting to convey with it. If you have a journal with you now as you read my post, take a minute and write any ideas that are coming to mind as a result of wearing your mask. So now that you have done so, let’s explore how do we go about getting rid of the mask?
In short, we all get tired, tired of working, tired of shopping, tired of writing, and tired of working. We all have reached the point of being tired of wearing the mask. This is your permission to take it off. What God has for you is far greater than you’ve ever imagined but you’ve gotta take the mask off and clean your face so that you can be annointed with His joy as you accept your call to His authentic grace.
He loves us, God that is…..,
Danita
When was the first time you discovered what you would love to do for life? If you were given the opportunity to start tomorrow, what would you do? I remember the first time I came into an understanding of what I wanted to be. It was an autumn or maybe fall day — I was about seven years old and my daddy, who was a minister, asked me to look up some words for him. He would always write his sermons at home, after a day at our family shoe shop called, Solomon’s Shoe Shop on Bright Street in Kinston, North Carolina 28501 (shout-out)—Richard Green where Grandma Sudie lived with Pam-Pam. After identifying what each word meant, I would tell him. Thus my fascination with INFORMATION grew…
Every other day, I found myself around this same age, loving to look through my dad’s office catalog, where he would order supplies for his home office- which was the desk where he ran the family affairs. Never being asked, I would always re-arrange and arrange his desk, sort the mail into stacks, put the paper clips in order, etc. I learned the art of customer service on my daddy’s desk, having learned to take messages on the message book and put the white copy on the desk for my daddy; leaving the yellow copy in the book. From what seems like birth, my mom was a strong domestic organizer- cooking, cleaner, gardener, decorator, seamstress, and stable force in our home. She was quiet yet her few words gave way to the bold actions to get things done! She was a mover and a shaker and taught me how to love the home I lived in. I know now yall got Martha Stewart and she has become stable, but I promise somebody somewhere, is a student of Talmer Joyce Gray Solomon’s School of Domestication besides myself! Momma did not play—- she had me washing dishes and doing laundry at a young age; which has aided as a virtuous compliment to me as a wife and mother! Thanks Momma! Thus my interest in improving DOMESTICATION THROUGH ORGANIZATION…..
Growing up in a family where my father endured 55 transplants and 3 kidney operations, I also dealt with many nurses and doctors in my life who were able to assess the issues he was experiencing and diagnose a treatment via medication, physical therapy, or the like. From the age of seven, I could name all of the nine medications that my father was taking, such that, when he blacked out at the wheel on the highway, due to a diabetic coma, we ran off the road and into a ditch—- Our car was pinned in an embankment on my side, so I climbed out of the window crawling over my dad and flagged down an 18-wheeler truck, who CB’d the hospital. When the ambulance came, I was able to tell them what was wrong with my daddy. In addition, I also gave them the number to my mom’s job so she could be reached. Thus my appreciation for COMMUNICATION …..
My journey as a Professional Organizer began then. Not following the grain. I set out to understand why I had a passion for organizing and informing people. I originally thought…could I actually get paid for this? Each time, I was asked what I’d study in college, the answer was always, ” I wanna be an organizer”. I often got a smirked look but each time I thought about it… I could do this line of work without getting paid. You know what, it has worked and my passion has carried me in many directions keeping these three pillars information, organization, and communication as the catalyst in all that I do– social work professor, clinical therapist, community organizer, grant writer, certified nonprofit specialist, social administrator, wife, mother, public information manager, friend.
There are many of us who are and will remain prisoners of hope, because we are fulfilling the dreams of our fathers or mothers or peers out of obligation or what the case may be. There are times in life when we must step out with wisdom in the direction of our passion and pursue that passion with purpose. It may be that we can not identity all of the pieces to the puzzle; and that is alight, the main goal is to start visioning and seeing yourself in your greatness!
Walking on the Water… When Your Nikes Just Won’t Do It… requires time and sacrifice. While you are counting the cost…stay focused!
Danita Ogandaga, MSW 