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Here

No matter what you are feeling
No matter what struggle keeps calling your name
No matter who your enemies are
OR who seems to be winning the game

I will promise you this
On all that I own
The sun always rises
And You Are Not Alone

I know you may feel broken
I know the road makes you weary
But I can promise you one thing
That I can see most clearly

It is always darkest before dawn
This I have always known
Hold your head up beautiful warrior
For You Are Not Alone

So when the battle flags are flying

When no hope seems to be in sight

Hold on to the old promise

You will be alright

For these are the lessons

Separates the children from us

These moments will aid in

Teaching that enough is enough

And as surely as I write this

There is a soul that is crying out

About how alone they feel

They just want to cry…no shout

No matter how difficult the lesson may be

No matter how long til it has passed

This is the temporary journey

It’s not meant to last

So pick up your heart

Dust off your tattered soul

While I tell you another thing

That you may or may not know

You are not measured by man

Not his intention or reason

You were cultivated in pure love

And THAT never goes out of season

Upward and onward for you

The message is clear

I am here for you

And will always be near

                                    ~LM Young


Recently, My Rays of Light Radio did a show about Domestic Violence.

The show was not just about Domestic Violence, in general terms…but I shared my own person struggle with this terrifying crime.

Violence on any level is inexcusable, but when the people that we love and trust, not only turn their backs…but their souls from us…it can feel devastating.

It was brought to my attention that perhaps I was just using my bout with abuse, to try and collect sympathy. I found this thought…deeply disturbing and I was hurt and angered by words from a stranger.

But please allow me to squash that ill placed thought.

I, nor anyone else, need sympathy. I do ask, however, that we all try to develop some sense of understanding and compassion for the women, children and men that are forced to live like this.
Is there a way out? Usually. But the victim…is often too afraid of the idea, if they were able to get away….what would happen if he found her? Can you imagine the anger and rage that would find an abuser, if his/her only form of entertainment has escaped? Can you imagine being afraid to breathe, for fear of getting caught. What kind of violence would be laid on him/her then? What if they have kids? Who can keep the children safe if the victim cannot keep herself safe and sound?

This is true fear.

Talking about violence, when you are the victim…is necessary. If we keep quiet about this condition, too many people live with, it will continue. I pray that was not the intention of the person who felt the need to extend his/her thoughts my way. Domestic Violence touches one in three women…every day. Women are struck, slapped, punched, kicked, choked, raped, mentally manipulated, financially held prisoner and spiritually depleted. They are yelled at demeaned, demoralized, cursed at, and belittled. This is not a ploy for sympathy…it is simply the truth. This happens every day, to women, children, and men alike.

My Rays of Light Radio Network…will constantly shine light on issues…that thrive in the darkness.
Do I need sympathy, NO. Do I ask for your sympathy? NO.
But I caution you…we wary of your thoughts…for you always get from the universe…all that you put into it.

My Rays of Light Radio Network

It’s You


Some days are better
And some are much worse
But when you look for blessings
Instead of the curse…
The sun beams warmer
Your smile is brighter
After all who gets more loving
The lover or the fighter ?
Embrace every challenge
Be led by your ancestors chant
Speak only of positivity
No more talk of I can’t
Rise up freedom fighters
And uplift others too
No matter how dark the dawn seems
The answer to someone’s prayers…
Is you
LM Young

Surviving The Shadows


Surviving The Shadows
October is Domestic Violence Awareness month…so it seems only fitting that we would bring this conversation to My Rays of Light Radio.
But I would be remiss in talking about Domestic Violence and the violence that brings…without being completely honest about why this subject strikes a chord within me.
I can remember the very first time he hit me. I remember the cologne he was wearing…the way his cold calloused hand felt across my soft…smooth  cheek. I can vividly remember the shock and how my mind was trying to wrap around the fact that he had hit me. What could I have done to deserve such a response?
What I would soon learn is that I would have not needed to do anything. Maybe he was just having a bad day…or possibly the clothes I was wearing may have been unsuitable for his mood. All I knew was that…never in my life had I ever experienced anything as physical and psychologically traumatic…as what was coming.
The abuse seemed to go on forever…I started making journal entries in red ink…every time he abused me. It wound up being right around 80 times…in a few months. He had slapped, punched, kicked and choked me. He had forced me to have sex with him…he tortured me physically and mentally. The worst part was the sick laughter that would surely follow…once he realized that he had basically won the round. To this day…laughter makes me feel a little queezy.
I will never forget the day he grabbed my neck and just choked me…until I passed out. He was in control and he knew it…but just in case he had also managed to get a gun.
He would break into my house and into my bedroom….where he would watch me sleep…until he was ready to rape or beat me.
I was constantly praying that God would allow me to fall asleep forever…but every day I woke up…in this HELL…in this pure evil existence.
No one could seem to help me…and those who may have been willing to help…would have been putting themselves in danger too…and I didn’t want to be responsible for their safety. I figured that if I couldn’t keep myself safe…how could I help anyone else?
The police wouldn’t do much…and I had him arrested almost every week…and after 24 hours….he would be released…just to beat down my door again. I had an order or protection…but the chief of police told me…it’s really just paper…and there was very little that they could do. I was then advised to keep having him arrested…and the judge would get sick of seeing him after 30 or so arrests. I couldn’t believe my ears…my heart felt broken…me whole life felt like it was shattered and no one seemed worried.
I couldn’t really blame my family or friends…since I hid so much from them…out of shame and humiliation. Still, I saw no light at the end of this tunnel. And it was definitely the longest and darkest tunnel I had ever encountered in my life. He was constantly blaming me for the abuse…if I hadn’t said this or that, if I hadn’t spoken so sharply, if I had dressed differently, …if only I could stop playing and become exactly who he needed me to be…the beatings would stop. But by this time…I knew it was a lie…nothing I did would change who he was resigned to be.
He held my life prisoner. I couldn’t determine which was more frightening…to be battered and abused…or the fear that I would run far away and have him catch me. What I realized was that…I was also imprisoning myself…out of fear of the unknown.
I don’t know what caused it or how my mind had developed the clear thought that I had to leave…I just know that once I had decided that I needed to go…there was nothing that was going to change my mind about it.
I realized it was him or me…
Convinced that he would not be happy until he stole my last breath…I had to survive this.
All these years later, it still turns my stomach to think about him and who I was back then. I remember the fear, apprehension, the bitterness and the sadness I lived with every day. While I am forever thankful for the life I have now…life will not allow me to forget the torture that plagued my body, mind and soul…back then.
Why is it important to rehash all of these past memories? Because there is someone out there listening tonight…who much like me…can’t grasp the ideas or thoughts that there is something brighter lying ahead for them. I choose to share this story here, tonight, with each one of you…because certain fears condition us…
There are no social media selfies…no videos of family festivities…my life is lived cautiously. I would wish this on no one.
For those of you listening who may be in a similar situation…or you suspect someone is living like this…please reach out to someone. Let them know that they are not alone…rise up and embrace them. She is afraid…she knows fear like most people only see in movies…be her happy ending.
Let’s be her light at the end of the tunnel…

To My Sister


To My Sister

 

 

I was thinking about the day the Doctor told me I had Cervical Cancer.

The ground shifted under my feet; did she say Cancer? No, there must be a mistake. I just went in for a checkup a few days before…life was normal. Did she say cancer? No, she has me confused with someone else. Things like this don’t happen to me.

I must have looked at her like she was speaking in a foreign language, because she just looked back and didn’t utter a word. I felt her touch the top of my hand…I snatched it back, as if she sent an electric charge through my skin.

No, don’t console me. She was wrong. Do I look like a cancer patient? No. I do everything right. I am kind to people. I watch what I eat. I exercise. I pray. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen to people like me. I kept muttering to myself…what did I do wrong? I spoke a little too loudly. She responded as if I were asking her the question. She said there is often no explanation as to what causes a woman to start producing cancerous cells. Did she say cancer, again? I shook my head in disbelief…will someone make her stop saying that?

She asked if someone was with me, because we needed to discuss treatments.

Of course no one was with me…this was just a checkup, I thought to myself. Treatment, did she say treatment? Ummm, how do we get rid of it? I asked softly.

She smiled. “Why was she smiling?”

There is no cure for cervical cancer. No cure?

Okay, yeah, I knew that. Breathe…don’t forget to breathe. Do not pass out. I asked her, “Why do I have Cancer”? She gave me the generic, “there is no way to know why exactly”. She went on about genetics, diet, and other contributing factors, but wrapped it up by telling me that it may be none of the above. Why did I ask dumb questions? I knew all of this.

“Wait, am I going to die?” I almost couldn’t see her expression, blinking through my own tears. We are going to try and get it under control before we have to think about that.

Try? Breathe…don’t forget to breathe, Wait, don’t breathe too hard…you are going to start hyperventilating. It’s going to be okay, but you have to get a grip on your emotions, right now.

She started telling me that she wanted to try and freeze the cells…but the disease was too progressive. We have to do a biopsy; to see exactly what we are dealing with. My mind started spinning. How did I get to this place?

Two weeks before, I was in a car accident. For the most part, all of my injuries seemed superficial. My face was severely bruised, so much so, that on my first doctor’s visit; the nurse asked me if I was a domestic violence victim. Both of my eyes were black and blue. My face was swollen, and my lip was cut open, too. There were bruises on my thighs, ribs, and across both of my breasts.

It was the bruising on my breasts, which prompted me to visit my OB/GYN. I wanted make sure there were no lumps or anything like that since I hit the dashboard so hard.

The Doctor asked me if I wanted a pap smear while I was there. I can recall thinking, no. But for whatever reason, I said yes.

Two weeks later, there I was…living with cancer. My doctor said there was no telling how long I had actually had it. She said it could have been dormant in my system for a while, and the accident could have jarred something in me…causing it to spread.

How could I go home and explain everything that my doctor just told me? I had Cancer. I kept saying it over and over again as I got in the car. I thought if I said it enough, by the time I got home, I would be able to say it without crying.

I decided, instead of going straight home, I would go to see you. I needed a safe place to go, where I could fall apart…just for a minute. I just needed a minute. I kept praying all the way to your apartment…please, God…let me have this one minute.

I barely remember you answering the door. I just remember falling into you. You were confused. You kept touching my face, looking for a new injury. You were talking so fast that I couldn’t answer you. My mouth wouldn’t move. Finally, I told you that my doctor said that I had Cervical Cancer, and I just fell apart.

You kept saying NO…over and over again. You were crying so hard; I could no longer determine who was consoling whom. I told you that unless the treatments worked, before it started spreading further, I might die. Somehow, you mustered up all of this strength and told me that was NOT going to happen.

You were an angel to me in that moment. You went with me to tell mom. It was no longer me having Cancer, but us having it. During the entire ordeal, your faith and strength never wavered; you continued to be the glue that kept me together.

You were my anchor during every pivotal moment in my life. You encouraged me, laughed with me, and let me lean on you.

And then there was silence.

I don’t think I ever thanked you enough. I don’t think I ever told you I loved you…enough. I will regret that for the rest of my life. I will regret everything we didn’t do, and all things we didn’t get a chance to say.

I love you…and I know you are living pain free so I know I must sound selfish…I am sorry.

I just miss you so much…

 

Love,

Me

 

The Essence of Child Abuse


my rays of light:

Join us tonight on My Rays of Light Radio
Call in at 10pmEST 646-564-9708

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/mrol/2014/10/01/child-abuselesson-or-legacy

Originally posted on Essence of Inanna:

childabuse11

The Essence of Child Abuse

The love of a child grows deep and strong from the day they arrive into this world. They cry for you, they hug you, they snuggle with you and they love you deeply. At any time and place you as a parent can do no wrong. How long can that continue until they realize they are not receiving the love they expel?

Why does one abuse their children? Why do people feel it is a necessary component for discipline? Can abuse be a good thing? There are so many aspects of abuse that should be explored; the possible said good and bad.

There are a child’s view and an adult view on the topic. As a child there is pain on levels of not feeling loved, feeling hated, not worth living, bad, incompetent, and stupid. Some children become determined and enraged where the amount of…

View original 873 more words


Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

 

Where do broken hearts go? This Whitney Houston song came to me today; I loved her music, but it was the next line that spoke to me…”When they can’t find their way home”.

Today while I was out running errands, trying to figure out what to have for lunch…clinching my water bottle like it was my life line…I stumbled across today’s blessing.

Something caught the corner of my eye, I saw a young woman, in her early twenties. She was dressed neatly, nothing extravagant or too simple. I smiled at her; then I proceeded to watch her go through a trash can and dig. After I took a moment to absorb this; I thought maybe she was collecting aluminum cans, or even maybe looking for change that someone threw away unintentionally. I was saddened…as I watched this beautiful woman dig out of the trash can, a McDonald’s cup. She took off the lid, to look inside. She placed the lid and straw back on the cup and drank whatever was inside of it. I could feel my heart breaking, for her, and then for myself…having watched it.

I looked at her for a moment too long, and as she looked at me…a single tear fell down her face. There really is nothing more sad than a single tear…even deep sobs don’t bother me as much. They are the tears that say…I’ve been holding on as long as I can…and I just need to let go. My eyes swelled with tears. She came up to me and told me that I had a beautiful smile…and all at once we had a matching tear. I reached for my sealed bottle of SmartWater, feeling thankful that I had not yet opened it. I told her that I am always telling my husband that he doesn’t drink enough water and handed it to her…along with whatever lunch money I had in my hand, no longer caring about my lunch.

She smiled and said…your heart is probably the only thing larger than your smile. We both laughed. This light came across her face, as if it was the first time she had seen laughter in a while. She went on to say I was angelic, and even that statement brought tears to my eyes. She wished me well and we walked away from one another.

I have thought about her constantly since the meeting. I wonder how she will eat tonight, or if she even will eat tonight. I wondered how this happened to her. I prayed silently and out loud for her…for all of us.

Where do broken hearts go…when they can’t find their way home?

This was my blessing of the day…

I think that most of us may not feel angelic…I know that I don’t always feel that way. I fall short. I don’t mean to…and I always feel badly afterwards. I, like most, am flawed. I can be selfish and short on patience. But, today…I loved this woman. I loved her strength…and she loved me back, even though it wasn’t expected from either one of us.

We can do better, I thought. No, I can do better. Yes, I can.

My message for this day, be patient and forgiving of yourself. If you cannot forgive yourself, how can anyone trust that you will forgive them? Be patient, we are all works in progress. Remember that looks are deceiving, this woman looked like no homeless or indigent person…I had ever envisioned in my mind. Everyone is fighting some war…we don’t have to be a part of that.

Try a little tenderness; we all have battle scars. Wouldn’t be better if we didn’t crack open one another’s wounds with our words or maliciousness?

Where do broken hearts go? They go to a most loving Creator and that Creator sends them to one of us. It is the fact that even WE are so loved that we are given the opportunity to be tender with complete strangers.

Today…be the bandage and not the gash…which may heal the broken hearts, which find their way to our souls.

 


How Would You Want To Be Remembered

 

I have been waiting to write about the Ray Rice video. I didn’t want to allow my previous experience to cloud what I needed to say about this situation. Often we can carry our own baggage into other people’s situations and that is unfair. I took the time to give both of them the benefit of the doubt, and decided to focus on what should really matter. So today, I feel confident and comfortable with my thoughts and ideas.

There are dynamics that none of us may understand about Ray Rice and his, now-wife. We don’t know how loving they are now. We do not know if the violence has subsided or if it has escalated. We can only hope that it is something they have addressed and have worked to get past. It is none of my business and I sincerely wish the two of them well.

I think, as parents, we give our children the wrong ideas about violence. We will solidly teach our sons not to hit girls. Some will even tell their sons that they should not hit girls…no matter what! And our daughters will sit by idly and listen. While we may think that we are teaching our sons to be better men…what are we teaching our daughters? Often the biggest lessons we give our children….are those that go unspoken. If we teach our sons that it is not acceptable to hit girls…but teach them that we expect them to defend themselves against other boys…what are we teaching our daughters? Are we creating a war between the sexes? Wouldn’t we be better parents if we armed all of our children with love and the truth…rather than thoughts of retaliation or rage?

As a woman who has endured domestic violence, please know that I am not excusing any abuse at all. The abuse I endured was inexcusable; and I have to admit that after a while…it became a matter of wanting to get him before he got me. I knew that every day my life could have been ended…by the efforts of someone that held no value in life, in general. But we must take a different look at an old problem, we should be teaching ALL of our children that it is not okay to hit ANYONE. Simply because, it isn’t.

It isn’t okay to strike someone, simply because we cannot find effective means of communication; or because the person we are debating or arguing with cannot “get” where we are coming from. If the discussion gets so heated that we “need” to physically offend the other person…it’s time to take that long walk. Give yourself the gift of a break. Allow your soul time to heal your thoughts…because it will. Learn to let go of anything that you cannot control. Instead, worship nature and the beauty that surrounds you. Concentrate on minimizing your breathing process. Allow your heart rate to become normal. Think about the birds singing or the crickets chirping. Listen for the children’s laughter. Feel the rustling of leaves in your heart….remember that you can create the change.

We should teach our children better coping skills. We should teach the value of the time out….not as a punishment, but as a means of realigning ourselves with our souls. Often we allow our ego to override the thoughts our souls have set up for us. Keeping in mind that our souls are here to elevate us and anything less just weighs us down.

Do I think that Ray Rice should have hit, punched or spat on his, then fiancé? NO. I find great offense in the fact that, at least one time in his life, he felt that behavior was okay. I appreciated the televised conference where he took responsibility for his error in judgment. But, unfortunately, often the apology can come too late. An “I’m sorry”, will not matter when there is a funeral being planned. And while this was not the case with Ray Rice…1 in 3 women are battered to the point of death. And 835,000 men are assaulted by their spouses or girlfriends, every year.

It is my hope that we do not take either statistic lightly. It is not funny when men are the victims of domestic violence. There are, most likely, so many unreported cases of men being abused by women. There are many reasons for this. Perhaps he doesn’t want to feel like less than a man. He may not want to be ridiculed by the authorities. I have to think this is a possibility, because I have felt the same way when I reported my abuse. The police and even the police chief sort of brushed it off. I cannot imagine how difficult that would be for a man…and my heart aches for all victims of abuse. It is not and should not be acceptable for men or women to be verbally, emotionally or physically abused…it MUST stop.

We are accountable for our own actions and words. Why would we treat people in a way that we would go to war about…if it were our children we were talking about?

Well, I have great news, because we are talking about our children. Our children are assaulting one another and we have the power to make changes. We should treat everyone in such a way that we would want to be treated.

Encourage our children to speak verbally…and that does not mean to verbally assault one another. It means to learn to communicate, in a loving and thoughtful way. Will this always work? Probably not, but isn’t it at least worth the consideration? Our children are killing one another. They are maiming one another’s souls…with their vile verbiage.

Lastly, allow me to say this: we are in a unique position to change things. We can begin to heal the damage that was done…but it cannot be done by carrying around the weight of thoughtless and careless people. We must step up and continue being the blueprint that others can follow. Be mindful of our thoughts and decisions. And before hitting another person…for whatever reason….be sure that we are prepared for the reaction and response to that decision.

Let us learn from the video of Ray Rice, if the actions of our lives were played out on video for the entire world to criticize and ridicule…would we be proud of our actions and reactions?

Live each day as if it is your last…how would you want to be remembered?

 

Join My Rays of Light Radio Tuesday Night at 10pm EST as we talk about this important issue

 

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/mrol/2014/09/17/why-does-he-stay


We Are Ferguson

 

Some pain cannot be hidden, I have put off writing about the Ferguson, Missouri teen, Michael Brown…as long as I possible could.

Some pain is inevitable. I watched the video of the mothers of shooting victims: Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, and Sean Bell. I have written numerous times about Trayvon Martin and his assailant George Zimmerman. I have expressed my sadness and disappointment in the outcome of the Zimmerman trial. I have even written to George Zimmerman personally, in my blog.

I watched as these strong women flexed their heart muscles toward one another. I could feel the pain they are dealing with, deeply. I know, as was said by one of them, the pain never leaves you. I can understand how that would be true. These strong women are a reigning example to all of us. They reached out to one another, not because they weren’t still in pain…but because they understood the feeling of isolation that losing a child can bring. The compassion they showed was about women…just being moms. Remembering the days when their children were laughing and smiling; lighter times where such tragedies weren’t even in the back of their minds. I admire the love and unity they gave to one another.

As a mother myself, I feel deeply hurt by the death of Michael brown. I am hurt by anyone that would think, say or believe that his murder was okay. Because you see, for me, he was a child. He had a home. He had a family. He had a life separate from what we will hear about in the media. He had a unique smile and contagious laughter…even if his mom was the only one that experienced it. He is a part of humanity…and he always will be.

His death wasn’t unfortunate…for that term tends to lean toward the base word “luck”. Michael Brown was gunned down…and his assailant Darren Wilson will have to live with that fact. We may never know what the day held for Michael Brown or Darren Wilson, before they met that day. Maybe they were confronted by death already. Perhaps someone had harassed or bullied them. Perhaps they had taken all they could stand that day. Possibly, all the patience they could muster had been spent elsewhere. We may never know the truth about the events leading up to the tragic death of this angel.

But from this I can tell you two things:

Michael Brown was gunned down needlessly. And while he may be a statistic that we refer to…he is so much more. I hope that when we think of him; we remember his face. For those that were fortunate enough to have spoken to him…remember his voice and how his eyes sparkled when he laughed. Remember all the greater things about him; do not let the way he left this place be the only conversation about him. He had a soul and he touched all those who walked with him…he even touched those that walked past him. I pray that his family finds some peace. I hope that we, as a nation, can look on this angel lovingly…with respect to his memory.

The other thing I know is this:

Like George Zimmerman, Darren Wilson must learn how to live with the consequences of his actions. His family will have to learn how to move forward…for not unlike Zimmerman, Officer Darren Wilson will forever be known as the cop that shot that kid six times….dead. This will not be an easy process…it is not intended to be. I pray that Darren Wilson is also able to come to grips with the reality of his actions. It is my hope that we start setting more strict guidelines for our law enforcement officers. We are losing too many of our young black men and something must change.

As a mother, I can tell you that it wouldn’t matter to me if my child had been killed by a police officer, or a trash collector. A white man or an Asian woman. It would only matter that I have one less place to set for dinner.

There is probably nothing as strong as a mothers love for a child; I hope one day we can all learn to love in that way…intentionally. Let us not look at what happened in Ferguson as an incident…it is a pandemic.

This did not happen to a small town in Missouri…it happened to all of us; and it continues to happened all over the world. This is not a matter of them and us…no matter how the media portrays it. We must see ourselves through the eyes of our children, because they do not see race or religion. They do not see sex or money. Children only see each other for exactly who they are….which is why they smile and laugh all of the time.

We are not better; we are not worse…

We are Ferguson.

Award Time


AWARD TIME!!

the-lighthouse-award

very-inspiring-blogger-award

awsome-blossom-award

 

There is no greater honor, in my opinion, to be considered award worthy…by my fellow authors and bloggers. Today I wanted to thank http://oawritingspoemspaintings.wordpress.com/2014/03/23/nominated-for-three-awards-at-once-thank-you/

for thinking of me. I was nominated a few months ago, but health issues have kept me from accepting these 3 awards until now.

For the Lighthouse award, name 3 ways you like to help people:

  1. On our radio show, www.blogtalkradio.com/mrol , we are often trying to help our listeners. We continually attempt to shine light on large issues. It is an extreme pleasure to be a part of such a beautiful piece of humanities puzzle.
  2. I like to help people, when I can, through the writing. Both blogs and poetry give me great pleasure and joy to write. It is always a blessing if it helps anyone….even of only for one moment.
  3. We have our own charity that we are in the process of creating. We would also urge other people to get involved with their communities. The only way to stop the needless cycle of violence is o step up and scream, “No More”.

For the Inspiring Blogger Award, I have to name 7 trivial things about me:

  1. I LOVE the color purple!! (the actual color, not just the movie…lol)
  2. I have a few tattoos…lol.
  3. My proudest moment was when I became a mom.
  4. Sometimes when I watch the news…it makes me cry.
  5. I have written a poem in 5 minutes.
  6. I am happily married.
  7. I used to play concert violin.

My nominees:

http://www.essenceofinanna.wordpress.com

http://zyoshiko.wordpress.com/

http://blackbutterfly7.wordpress.com/

http://kemuntomayio.wordpress.com/

http://bridget158.wordpress.com/

There really are no solid rules here. Share what you choose…do what you love. I am honored at the nomination…and pleased to be able to share in this honor.

Light and Love to you all

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