Music=Heals
“Throw it in the Bag” (remix)
“Love You Right Here”
“Drop it Like it’s Hot”..
…all titles to popular songs that we’ve nodded our heads to at one point or another. (principals, ministers and librarians are not exempt)…
…however, I never thought what my life would be like if I listened to ONLY these three songs for an entire month. And nothing else.
When Mos Def’s “Blackstar” album came out, I listened to “Umi Says” for what seemed like two weeks straight and noticed a shift. A physical shift. Like being hugged from the inside out..
….I no longer perceived my co-workers to be scaled down versions of rocks. Instead, they spoke in rose pedals and wore kindness like a name tag. I almost asked them how they did it, I was so impressed.
When I first heard Georgia Anne Muldrow’s* “Because”, I listened to that song for almost an entire month and noticed supreme changes in my ability to be grateful. Even for things that I would much rather change. Like traffic jams, twelve hour work days, slow customer service, too much water in my white mocha, etceteras.
These songs shifted my perspective on life.
Maybe it had something to do with…I don’t know…their u.v. way of inserting slips of inspiration into the crevices of my brain…a kind of inspiration that doesn’t have to be labored over…
.
Things and people who usually irritated me, became lessons, gifts, and at most were lifted and placed very far from my last nerve.
This hasn’t happened lately. It could be because there’s nothing but reindeer poop being played on the airwaves. Or maybe it could be that I’ve just been away from principles and practices long enough to forget how powerful and efficient they are.
So…I have a question. If you were to listen to songs that move your spirit, for thirty days what effect do you think they would have on you??
Let’s try…
…here are the instructions. (Printed, and photocopied, this would make a great gift for those who are struggling with obsessive complaining disorders, willpower deficiency syndrome, and hyperactive I can’t glanditis. This might be you.)
1) Create a playlist consisting of at least 30 songs, of which move every part of you. For those who need specifics.. by every part, I mean your mind, body and soul…
2) Any song that moves only your soul, by default moves your mind and body. So add these songs as well.
3) Listen to this playlist for thirty consecutive days. And nothing else.
4) At the end of the thirty days, reflect. You may have noticed a decrease in negative thinking and an increase in your willingness to give away free hugs. Notice the changes. Give thanks.
5) Smile.
6) Rotate your playlist and start all over.
Just in case you’d like some suggestions for your playlist…here’s my offering
“…i need a better dream to come/want my spirit to arrive renewed just like the sunrise/life always finds a way to test me/and i’ve got eternity to pass…”
“…/I desire much more/there’s always something wonderful and new/I wish the same for you/one day all of you/will see the same thing i do”
“Who’ll pick you up when you put down my friend/who’ll face the cold and fight the icy winds/will you still be around when spring is new again/stand on your own two feet/you’ll always win.”
If none of these songs work for you, I’d like to personally compensate you with one of these free hugs that I just can’t stop giving out.
(Self) Love Lock-Down
So as an African American woman with locs, who burns incense and occasionally eats Tofu, I’m supposed to know everything there is to know about self love, so I’m told. I’m supposed to shower myself with hugs and prayers, affirmations and cast away doubt with spirit fingers right?
No.
I’m actually temporarily challenged in this area. And without getting into the specifics (because I don’t need all-a-yall knowing my personals…and more so I don’t want you to see how unnecessary some of my internal rants can be), I’d like for you to play Dr. and prescribe some antidotes for what I’m officially calling, the self love lock down. (P.s. please spare the hug yourself speeches…hugging yourself is not fun. At all.)
…ten minutes later….
I actually did try hugging myself, just to make sure I wasn’t impulsively refuting an idea.
And it was kind of whack.
However, I did discover that I can give myself some pretty darned good ribcage massages.
I still want your antidotes.
Go!
Fashionable Fundraising
So, just in case you missed my last blog about the FLOW Scholarship, I’m writing another one.
But before I start, let me ask you something: what was the last thing you spent money on?
If you are anything like me, then you spent twenty dollars on half a tank of gas.
(I would hope that unlike me, you own a car that will get you a little more mileage for your buck.)
But this is all beside the point. The point is: I am asking that you shuffle a couple of those dollars from your I -need-gas fund on over to the FLOW Scholarship fund.
If donating to www.firstgiving.org/flowscholarship is not particularly your style, then I encourage to visit www.freelivingourway.ecrater.com,

Flow Tunic::Baby Blue
This way, you can contribute to a worthy cause and look fashionable as a result.
This scholarship was created so that students interested in studying abroad may do so without busting a sweat about how to obtain the necessary funding. In a nutshell, I just want to make study abroad a bit easier for those who think it’s hard. That’s it, that’s all.
Death of Auto-Tune
So, last night, I gave in to cable and decided to watch a bit of the BET Awards. It wasn’t going so bad, until I saw what looked like four 12-14 year old girls shaking what they they thought was their “ass” to the tune of Drake and Lil Wayne’s duo “…I just wanna f**k every girl in the world…”.
:pause:
Are you serious?
In my last blog, I spoke about artists and accountability.
Lately, I’ve been checking myself because too often, I deride the artists I personally know, while at the same time giving the Lil Waynes hallway passes because of their ability to put together a nice metaphor.
Who will hold Lil’ Wayne accountable for his actions? Did anyone perceive these young girls being on stage as a problem to begin with? Well I did, and in protest, left the room.
I didn’t come back until I heard Janet’s voice. At this point I became consumed by everybody else’s pain regarding M.J.’s death and started to cry.
After the BET show, Jay-Z’s video came on, “Death of Auto-tune”, and is he not smashing?
The God of R&B/Pop/Everything Else passes on and Jay-Z performs a song in which he scorns rappers whose careers are dependent upon superficial reconstructions of their voices and existences.
Can I guide you to the link between MJ and Jay-Z’s “Death of Auto-Tune”?
MJ set standards. He introduced choreography that the entire world rehearsed after work. He made glitter popular. He wrote songs that my great grandchildren will most likely recite verbatim. He did not make an entire album in auto-tune. He did not talk about how hood he was. Nor did he talk about how much ass he had, or was going to get after the club.
Michael Jackson was universally appealing because of his ability to express his individuality. Jerry-curl, white glove, nose job and all. We still loved him because in the sharing of his life, we gained the inspiration to be confident in our own creative expression.
How many (hip-hop) artist are in the business of traversing M.J.’s path so as to establish a legacy that’s founded upon the pure genius of spirit?
I’m pretty sure you know the answer. And if you need a little bit of consolation, check out Jay-Z’s video “Death of Auto-tune”. You are not alone.
Message in a bottle..an unshapely question mark.
We all know someone who is a fighter, revolutionary, down for the people, (hella hella fine), conscious, poet, word smith, progressive, anti-establishment, some-kind-of-vegetarian extract.
Yes?
Yes.
I know someone who is all of the above and simultaneously the polar opposite. I used to get angry at the mention of his name, but find it more worth my while to speak a quiet prayer. I am also learning to separate the messenger from the message. However, in attempting to do so, I am pitted against myself. Part of me wants to utilize the principle of love, while my other half wants to utilize the principle of accountability. How much longer will we continue to celebrate the message whilst overlooking, for lack of a better word, the shystie-ness of the messenger?
See, I know a messenger. He hands out telegrams of beauty to young girls struggling with self esteem. He mails shooting stars to young boys who no longer believe in the goodness of life. He sprinkles love letters on tombstones and strings stanzas of waist beads around the hips of puberty. His messages are collectibles. Vintage notes that you already know because you’ve written them in a previous existence. I know a messenger who scribes verses on the backs of the enslaved so that they can inspire the people who come after them. I know a messenger whose uniform is impeccably flawless.
On the other hand, I know a messenger who does not take time to heal himself. Who does not utilize the same ointment he prescribes to others. Who celebrates his individual, yet chastises the community. I know a messenger who doesn’t mind a woman being everything for him until she’s nothing for herself. Who soaks up admiration, yet is dry as a rock when it’s time to become vulnerable. I know a messenger whose words replace the whip. I know a messenger who knows himself well enough to affect others but has yet to produce a change within himself.
I know this messenger. You do too. The messenger has been me and is sometimes you.
(…Okay that last line was kinda cheesy. But the cadence was quite lovely if I don’t say so myself.)
Nonetheless, I pose this question:
Is the message real if the messenger isn’t?

We want to leave the country TOO!!
Alright folks. I’ve already been at you about fundraising for the FLOW Scholarship, and I’m at it again. I’m in high gear this time around and trusting that my tenacity finds its way to your sofa cushions, back pockets, and shall we not forget, the oh-so-generous-checkbook.
Above is a pretty good looking badge that you can click on and let guide you to a webpage, of which you can make a secure online donation.
I appreciate your love and support. Muah!
Alignment
The Universe is like a gigantic desktop printer. It produces an exact replica of whatever is on our monitor or mind. If my ink, or my thoughts are not in alignment with spirit, then I will send a difficult message to the Universe, which in turn produces a difficult outlook, literally. If my ink is aligned and in tune with purpose, the Universe prints me a divine reflection of my thoughts.
I’m aligning my thoughts with the divine spirit within so as to produce a perfect picture.
(What does alignment mean to you?)




Top 10 Reasons Why I Don’t Give You My Number (A Message to Most Black Men and a Couple of Cambodians)
Bored. Please stop talking.
Dear Brothas Who Wonder Why They’ve Been Rejected Before the Conversation Really Goes Anywhere:
I had a thought. And it went like this:
“…instead of complaining about men and their lack of interest in refining their pick-up lines, why don’t I take a pro-active stance and offer some assistance?”
Hence the list below, which is a compendium of thoughts that run rampant across the nonsense you all call “hollering”.
Now let me preface this by saying, I have not yet thoroughly investigated this epidemic of horrible hollering. So excuse me if I come off biased. Nonetheless, even if you are of the dignified caliber of man, I suggest you read and pass this on to the brothas who are less fortunate when it comes to minor discourse with women.
1) Hey, young boys (and older men): I am not an “Aye”, “Baby”, “Lil’ Mama” ,”Mami”, nor “Come here”.
2) Hey, guy in the car: A simple “how are you” or nod of acknowledgment will do just fine. No need to honk all types of crazy while I’m trying to enjoy my stroll in the cross walk.
3) Although I don’t fully understand what motivates you to purchase rims that are bigger than my head, and a sound system that’s louder than necessary, what I do know is that you’re extreme craving for attention will not fed by me. So to answer your question, no you may not get my number so that can disruptively “swoop” me.
4) Did you just ask me to google you?
5) To the hard of hearing: How is “I’m not interested” an invitation to keep talking?
6) To the novice of articulation: “Whoa, look at the nipples on this one.” Points for speaking your mind. Two and a half eye rolls plus a slap back into slavery for expecting me to be flattered.
7) Hey, guy that I’m walking by and have never spoken to in my life but thinks I’m wifey material: has it ever crossed your mind that I may be criminally insane? or illiterate? or maybe, just not your type?
8 ) To the Ray Ray’s, Man Man’s, and Eddie-Boe’s: I appreciate you creatively modifying your name. However, introducing yourself to a woman for the first time is like taking the SAT, you get points just for spelling (in this case, saying) your first name correct.
Editor’s Note: I’ve had this post on pause for about five months. In the time between, it appears as though men are stepping their game up and leaving the ladder in tact for young boys to climb. Thank you. For the men still curious about their ability to keep a woman engaged in conversation, click here to find out if you’re a hot tamale, or just plain ole’ boring.