"No Longer The Girl Next Door"

When I was growing up the only thing I wanted to do was write and sing. But for some reason "Momma Joyce" had other plans. She always made sure that every, waking, moment of my life be filled with things to do. Whether it was forcing me to do domestic duty or grudgingly going to private duty for every single organization known to mankind, my life was always full. To me, I was participating in some sort of social boot camp, only I was the one doing all of the work. First, it was piano lessons...but I sucked at that and had to quit. Next, it was dancing school: jazz, tap and ballet back to back. Then, it was gymnastics, didn't suck, but I could never figure out how to do that "back-flip" thing. And finally it was bowling, now that was something that I was proud to say I did well. As a child, I really didn't get the option of deciding what I could and could not do but one thing I knew that I wouldn't do, was be apart of any groups. I preferred to bathe in my own identity. No way, no how, was I going to join anything that made me wear a uniform. Who on earth would ever want to walk around with a beanie on her head or a tan and green skirt and shirt with gold medals? It just wasn't cool to me. In fact, nothing about joining the Girl Scouts was. Yet, when I was asked to participate in a Silver Career event for girls last weekend, I just couldn't refuse. I guess I was still feeling guilty about my lack of interest in them back then or maybe I finally felt that I had reached the level of achievement that they so often preached. Whatever the case, I was going and there was nothing else to it. When I finally arrived I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. There were a sea of girls in every size, hue, and shape and they were swarming around me like bees to honey. What on earth was I going to share with them? I didn't even know what a "Girl Scout" meant! I certainly understood the "girl" part but what were they scouting for? And then it dawned on me, they were searching for answers just like me when I was growing up, trying to discover who I was through activities and new paths. They were navigating their way through life and this was just one small stop on their journey. As I sat at my table, patiently waiting for the girls to stop by I tried to think of as many pearls of wisdom that I could share. Would I sugar coat their vision of life with stories of grandeur? Or would I share the harsh realities that life can so often bring? But before I had the chance to even make that decision, Alex was already in front of me. She had a caramel complexion, and was radiant and full of glee. I listened carefully as she vividly described what she wanted to achieve. She loved riding horses and wanted to be a marine biologist. She was fascinated with the fact that I published my first book and humored me with stories. And when she finished, I sighed with relief, proud of who she was about to become, proud of the promise of her future, proud to see that young girls still dream big, and learn to become great women, capable of dewing many great things!

A Back Door to Greatness

Last Sunday I watched in awe as the late, great Ella Fitzgerald took the stage on PBS's Jazz Icon series. She was live in Stockholm, Sweden and the performance captured her best moments during 1957 and 1963. I wasn't even born, yet I could appreciate her masterful talent and skill. She belted out not 1 but 10 songs back to back with no gulps of water in between, no clothes changes, no perspiration breaks, just a small band that played ever so gracefully behind her. She was effortless and in her glory as her lips scatted and bopped weaving melodies so fast that I started getting dizzy. And then she paused and belted out her final number, a dedication to another great, the late Louis Armstrong. She not only sang but mimicked the sound of his voice as well as the notes he played on his instrument. Like I said a true talent...a real talent. Ms. Fitzgerald didn't need any back-up dancers jumping or gyrating across the stage with little or no clothes on. No, she used her natural talent to captivate her audiences. She didn't have the everyday conveniences that celebrities have today to garner any form of support, no videos,no concerts that demanded $75-$100 a ticket, no nothing. Yet, here was this voluptuous woman, with an even bigger voice who had the tone of 12 angels. A woman, who by beauty critics today would be called average and therefore unable to walk through the front doors of most of the places she performed. I imagine that there may have been times when some doors just wouldn't open at all. I thank God for the Ella's, the Etta's, the Billie's of our past for opening doors and breaking barriers so that I could do many of the things I do with ease. I may not sing like these women but I move like these women. I fight hard every day to break down walls, to push myself to new heights of understanding and knowledge and I use back doors with steps that help elevate me to places in my life that I want to go. In these dew seasons of my life I am grateful and humbled by the low points, the bruises, and the cuts. For without them how would I ever be able to grow?

Dipping Into Something New

As the end of the holiday season draws near and the new year begins I remind myself of all the people, events, treasures and trials that impacted me. In fact, I can recall one moment in particular that changed my life right before my eyes. It happened while I was visiting a detention center for young men one week before Christmas. A few people from my bible study group and I had gotten together to sing Christmas carols and talk with them. The end of the program was coming to a close but I kept feeling something tugging at my heart. I needed to do more than just sing with them. I needed to pray and speak a word into their heart. At first the fear of holding hands with someone that I didn't know completely overwhelmed me. What if he murdered someone. Or raped someone. What if he committed a violent act toward someone I loved. Then suddenly that doubtful, negative spirit dissipated and I could feel a transformation take place. Not just in the heart of the boy whose hands I held but in the ones of those that were holding them. My hands. I was letting go of the fears and inhibitions of the unknown and letting go of the prejudices that once stalked me. I was lifting and encouraging this young man in a way that even I couldn't understand and I was becoming all the better for it. I prayed that the season that he was experiencing in those cold, concrete walls be ended and that whatever was ahead of him be greater than his past. I prayed that whatever cards life had dealt him or circumstances he had been in before be changed. He was now dipping into fresh water, into a new season, his dew season of life that would bring forth something great. When I opened my eyes, I felt the burdens and pain pour out of him and up to God's hands. As I reflect on that moment, I pray that whatever season of life your in, that today your transformational moment begin and the desires of your heart and dew seasons of your mind come true for each of you.

Celebrate The Season

As much as I hate to admit this I'm just not into the Christmas cheer this year. I've gotten phone calls from family, dinner invites from friends and holiday notes from strangers but still, it's just not there. I've even tried listening to Christmas music, shopping for gifts, and driving through neighborhoods just to see some sign of big, fat Santa. But still, there's nothing. So what is it about this year that makes it any different from the rest? Nothing has changed, what's the big deal? It's just another day. Or is it? Unfortunately, for some of us, it just can't be. Not when we're constantly hearing all of the bad news about the economy and job or housing loss. Not when our country is in a financial mess. Yet, everything I shared whether it relates to me or not really does affect me. It affects the people that I love and the world around me. When I stop and think about how fortunate I am I get overwhelmed and am simply amazed. Last week I drove through a rainstorm in a car that had a leak so deep in the sun roof that I could have gone swimming. And yet, I remembered the person who stood in the rain with no shelter at all because they no longer had a car. I got a call from a friend who loss her job after having worked there for only 3 months, and I thought to myself, that could have been me. The amount of grace we receive in times like these are nothing short of a miracle. We are able to eat outside of garbage cans while others are eating garbage just to survive. We are resting our heads in warm beds at night while others lay on payment. But, we pay more attention to the things that we have not received without even saying thanks for the things that we do. This year Christmas will be all about that for me. Giving thanks for life, health and breath, breaking bread with family and offering a hand and an ear to those who need it most. For as long as I can, wherever I can, my plan is to dew a new thing.

A Grey Anatomy

When I turned 30-years-old every birthday became less of a ritual and more of a period of self reflection and an opportunity for me to create all sorts of wish lists.

1. Find the perfect man to marry and have kids.
2. Find the perfect home preferably near the water in a beach house.
3. Win the lottery and forget about points 1 & 2.

But, as the years quickly passed and I got closer to turning 40, I realized that points 1,2, and 3 might not become a reality. Therefore, the only thing I had to look forward to was the art of ageing gracefully. Until suddenly, grace was interrupted when out of nowhere stood a grey hair. The long, black hair that I had grown accustomed to would be forever tainted by this monstrous beast. No wig, no weave, no nothing would be able to hide it and now my life was completely over. I would be invaded by a single, silver strand who became known to me as "the intruder." Much like the aunt or uncle who showed up drunk on Christmas or the dreaded coworker I least expected to show up to the corporate dinner. They just didn't belong there! And just like these annoying people in our lives so was my grey hair. Yet eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that this was something that came along with the ageing process and I would need to embrace it. However, I wanted no parts of it! Having grey hair meant that I would be treated differently when I went to the mall or shopped for groceries. Men and women would now refer to me as "Mame" instead of Ms. Roy. No longer would I be able to enjoy passing for the girl in her twenties, I was getting old and this was going to take some getting use to. I could no longer wear the short skirts and tiny t-shirts anymore without being ridiculed by the packs of women wolves at nightclubs. Now, I was a fully grown woman who had to give up all of those things and accept whatever life had to offer. I was entering into a new beginning, my dew season and life was about to become pretty darn special.

Cruising and Losing

Easy come....easy go...at least that's what I told myself when I arrived home from a 7-day cruise to the Caribbean last week. I had just celebrated my sister's 50th birthday and was already thinking about what to do next. I hated the fact that I had to give up the "stuff my face" sessions of eating, hated the fact that I no longer had the ocean in my backyard...hated the fact that there was no one else left to serve me, hated the fact that there were no more island men to look at and last but not least..I hated the fact that I had to go back to work and face business as usual. My lovely, rest-filled vacation was now a memory that turned into a nightmare fast when I rear ended a driver while leaving work one night and broke my wrist. Like I said earlier easy come...easy go....my days of no longer having a care in the world or having to do anything for myself like lift a fork or a spoon were gone...I went from being the high roller to a disabled veteran of fun in just a few days. Never again will I look at someone with a disability the same way. Yet, my small inconveniences are nothing compared to what handicap people face everyday. Not being able to wear a coat that fits, or take a shower( I still wash really well, don't be fooled), grocery shop, drive my car without using my left hand or email friends as often as I use to has shown me just how blessed I've been all these years. I think about how easy it's been for me to take small things for granted. And then I realize that I really can make do with little or less. Everything depends on my attitude and I'm choosing to say yes. Especially to all the positive things, the fact that I'm alive, the fact that it could have been worse and the fact that I am able to still smile even when I don't feel like it. I also realized that having more does not make me rich and that I really can manage without all the extra things....I am blessed by just being here....and dewing just fine.

My Halloween Journey

I had almost forgotten that today was Halloween until last night. My friend's daughter was so excited about her costume. She was sharing details of every part of it. As I listened intensely I started thinking about my own Halloween memories. Like the time I dressed up as Queen Nefertiti. My face was completely plastered in gold glitter and I wore a long, black cape with a turban on top of my head and black tights. I was determined to win the prize for best costume that year and I did! Later that day my friends and I made plans to go trick or treating together. I was certain that we were going to hit the candy jackpot because we were doing it in one of the richest neighborhoods in New Jersey. This place was like a trick or treaters heaven and we were about to enter its gates. It didn't matter how cold it was that night because we were far too deep in the early stages of our sugar high rush. There were 4 of us. April, was Bambi, Kyle, who I had a major crush on was a vampire, Michael, another best friend was a vampire also (I guess there was a sale on costumes from Woolworths) and last but not least was my friend Vera. Once we arrived, each of the members of our pact began to scatter with the exception of me and Kyle. All I could think about was the cold and how cute he was. I'm almost certain he felt the same because the next thing I knew our lips were connected. We must have done this for at least five minutes because I counted. It was awkward, but worth it! My tongue licking his teeth, his teeth licking and sucking bob wire because I had braces, yet, none of that seemed to matter. I was finally kissing him! I even saw fireworks like the ones Marcia Brady saw from the "Brady Bunch" show. To this day, Halloween has never been about ghosts or goblins for me but a memory that I hold dear to my heart.

For details on this experience and more journeys like this one , read "Journeys of Love Voices of the Heart," or visit www. HillabeesandRoses.com to purchase a copy of our new book.