Life is a Beautiful Struggle

Although I struggle, I continue to struggle, I hope that one day I'll be solid. I hope that one day when I wake up, I'll look out MY window and know MY value. I'll know that all of the sacrifices, blood, sweat, and tears mean something not only to myself, but to someone else.

I'll feel connected, I'll feel as if my voice matters. In a world that constantly tells me no, tells us NO, "You don't belong, you don't fit in, your not Black enough, your not classy enough, your not man enough, your not woman enough, your not rich enough, I hope that when I look out MY window, my perspective, my voice, my being, will have a positive affect on the lives of others like me and not.

For all of us who are different, rather it be our skin color, gender, sexuality, gender expression, physical ability, ethnicity, religion, thoughts, just know that you are special. And like you, I struggle to see that in myself, sometimes I forget my worth because so many around me constantly tell me that I'm not worthy. But I am, we are. So for all the outcasts out there, I see you baby.

The answers are there, the answers aren't there. Some people know, some people don't know. Does anyone really know?

So just take a look, look out your window, and know that life is a beautiful struggle.

"A Few Thoughts On Nelson Mandela: Fulfillment"

I wonder what he is currently thinking as he reflects on his life. We all know that Mandela has been having severe health issues lately.

For a leader who has literally liberated so many people, African and not, Nelson Mandela has truly changed the world by the work of his mere existence. He lived his life.

After reading bits and pieces of his autobiography, I realized how vital he is to history. He is an important piece of it.

I just often think of what people like himself think when they are in their last days. Do they have thoughts such as "Did I do what I was meant to do? Is my job done? Did I love this life and can walk out of it in physical form, knowing that I fulfilled my purpose? Did it all mean something to me? Did it mean something to them?

I often think those thoughts when it comes to the movers and shakers of our time and the past.
Do we see the meaning behind his life? Behind ours? 

Also it made me question life in general. For the record this isn't meant to be a somber or sad blog post, I'm just posing the question of fulfillment and happiness with our lives. Because death makes the material not matter. It's what we do in this life that is special. Get my jist?


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Hugs, kisses, and wishes!