No. 67 - Anger and the Prostitute

So I’ve been thinking about anger, and the affects it has on our valued relationships, and wondered just what is it about anger that gives it so much power over relationships? Naturally, I had to first look within to gain a better understanding of whatever anger there might be that resides – or that once resided – there. I’ve taken the opinion that we must first consider ourselves, and then information we gain from others, and then share it with those we love and care about before internalizing that information as truth or fiction.

Here’s the situation and process I’ve witnessed in many occasions, and that, I noticed is presently considered commonplace for so many in our community (sadly):

The two are in a relationship, both proclaiming their love for one another. They have grown to feel they have finally found someone they can be themselves with; someone that values their individuality for what it is; someone that shares common views and interests on many fronts. Off they go, along the thrilling avenues of life, hand-in-had with confidence in their ability to live the lives they had both dreamed of, they bask in the glow of love.

There is no question the two are fully engaged in the relationship and benefiting from accepting one another in their fullness. Both are growing in ways and places they could never have imagined. Together the two possess the ability to overcome each and every obstacle they may face… and do so without skipping a beat. The Love they share is so complete there is nary a single thought given to the notion that this bliss could some day change.

But one day it does.

One day, something happens that begins the dulling process of this once radiant love. This event, while small at first, is the very thing that puts the couple on high alert, and soon becomes the threat to the very thing they both want and value so highly. I like to say it is the first stage in the Prostitution of their Happiness. I say so because it is during these events that the happiness the couple so highly values is relegated to the corruption brought on by the unworthy – and undignified – purposes of anger.

The Scenario:
The two are in conversation, as they have done so a thousand times prior to this moment in time. One of them says something that seems normal and appropriate based upon his/her perspective, and with a desire to further enjoy the discourse. The other person for some reason that might seem unclear, and that certainly comes from a place and awareness not relevant to the present situation, takes offense to what is said. He/she is struck by what he/she just heard and reacts in a way that demonstrates this. To the surprise and bewilderment of the other person, this behavior is off-putting, to say the least. Words are said that could compromise the stability of the once stable platform on which the relationship stands. Emotions spill forth that cast a dark light on one or both of them, neither wanting to take ownership of their role played in the scenario.

Two very critical things happen now: first, the one to which the anger was aimed decides he/she will no longer “talk about that”, second, the one who became angry initially decides he/she was justified in their position, even though the adverse emotional outburst has become the initiating catalyst that may someday defeat the very thing they both want – lasting happiness together.

This is the moment in time when the Prostitute is at the apex of destructive power. This is where the Prostitute engages in the spread of disease, discord, and dishonor into the relationship. This is where the seeds of defamation, contempt, and diminished support enter into the lives of these two. If the two aren’t careful and willing to raise their level of awareness and respect for the relationship, the path to happiness will be slowly, subtly derailed. They will some day find themselves quite unhappy.

So the couple somehow gets beyond the event and is finally getting back on track. Things are now flowing and the smiles and joy find their way back into the daily routines. They talk about dreams, plans, ideas, and events of the day.

But never any more talks about that thing that was their flash point.

And then one day it happens again. Once again they are in the pit of despair, having to grapple with that inner demon called Anger that seeks to Prostitute their happiness. Once again they struggle to believe in one another and find reason to hold steadfast to what they want for their lives.

And once again two very critical things happen. Yes, it happens once again. So now there are two things they will no longer talk about. Now there are two episodes where they went from two people enjoying the love they each share, to two warriors so determined to get their way they would gladly destroy the very prize they had so proudly proclaimed they were ready to enjoy.

And soon we see the pattern evolve. Soon we see with each episode the same thing happening. The two get caught up in their own positions and neither is willing to step up to remind the other of what they are about.

Sadly, after months, years, and sometime decades of this… After deciding there is so few “safe” things to talk about and there are so many episodic explosions, the two one day realize they do not even like the person sleeping soundly beside them.

That Prostitute… she is very good at what she does.

And then one day the two are no more… having a hundred reasons to part ways, and none to remain, repair, and rebuild.

It is a most unfortunate thing that anger has so much power over us. It is sad to see the terrible impact it has in so many lives and how so many so readily give their happiness away to anger. Many storm into a room with a defiant stride and an abundance of “powerful” anger thinking to make a point or get their way only to see, at the end of the road, that it was worthless.

Anger, you see, is the enabler that allows our happiness to be corrupted.

That damn Prostitute…

No. 66 - Flashback to the Present

Wednesday Night:
I stood there beside my car, alone in the dark as cars passed by and city-sounds echoed off the many building that surrounded me. There I was, needing a minute to clear my mind, to breathe easy, to relax the energy that had developed within me as I prepared to meet with a colleague. The wind was chill and I made sure to zip my coat to the neck.

In the distant, I saw him walking toward me.

I wondered many things as I watched this lone man slowly saunter into my space. Was he under the influence? Was he up to no good? Was I ready to take on and deal with any untoward actions he might attempt against me? These were the thoughts that came and went in my mind as I watched this person come my way.

He approaches, just a few feet away now, and stops. I look at him. He looks at me.

And this is how the conversation went:

Him: Hey man, can you help me… I got just a dollar in my pocket.
Me: Sorry to hear that…
Him: I lost my place six days ago, been living in the streets since.
Me: Wow…
Him: I lost my car because I had some tickets… now I gotta do community service.
Me: Do you have family?
Him: No… no one here… I’m all alone.

I see tears begin to well up in the corners of his eyes. I see his stature dwindle with each word that comes from his mouth.

Him: Haven’t eaten all day… all I got is my health… I just want some milk… can you help me?

I reached into my pocket. I felt his sincerity. Here before me was a man grappling with his own pride and dignity, hoping to find some way to nourish his body, to sooth his mind, to comfort his soul.

Him: I’m strong, I have skills, I am somebody… why is all this happening to me?
Me: I don’t know. I have seven dollars here, you can have five.
Him: Oh, thank you… thank you… things will get better, I know they will.

I gave him the money, he cries openly now. The tears fall boldly from his eyes and I struggle with how to respond. Where is the line that should not be crossed? What “rules” apply to this situation, where one man pleads with another – a stranger, at that – for some reason to remain steadfast in his manhood and know there will be a better day.

Me: Look man, things will get better. Is there anywhere you can go?
Him: I have a friend. He said I can come over anytime. But he wants me to sleep with him.

I stood there perplexed… what is happening to us? How can there be so much dysfunctional thinking and regard for one another in our society. I was at a loss for words. Anger, frustration, embarrassment, sadness and fury all battled within me to become the dominant emotion. What was I to say?

Him: I’ve been up for two days. I’m tired… I guess I’ll have to keep walking.
Me: Hold your head up, Brother. Hold your head up and know that things will get better.
Him: They will, thanks.

He walks away, the five dollars tightly clenched in his hand, his hand secure in his pocket. I can hear his sniffles carry in the wind as his pace hastens. He is now twenty feet away. I pray that this Brother reconnects with his hope, with his sense of greatness, with his deeper inner strength. I see him turn around and come back towards me. He stops, looks at me, the tears no longer present, his back a bit straighter, a look of growing determination upon his face.

Him: Thank you, man… you see, sometimes I just want to talk. Sometimes I just have to get it out… sorry for having to come back.
Me: It’s cool, man…. You just take care. I know how it is, trust me. Just take care and know that things will work out.
Him: They will.

He walks away and this time I can sense he is reconnecting with that part of him that will allow him to keep going.

I watched his walk into the distant night. Cars pass by now and then. The wind carries a chill that is hard to shake but I am somehow distantly removed for it. Soon I can no longer see this Brother but the experience still repeats in my mind. Why had the Universe, the Gods, Our God, and fate brought this experience into my presence? What am I to learn from this meeting? Was it chance?

I realize it’s colder and I need to be on my way… after all, duty was calling. I looked in his direction once again, still pondering our interchange…

It’s been a couple days since that meeting and I continue to reflect upon it. In my work to help build a better community I have come across many different people and many different situations, each of which has helped in shaping how I view the world we live in today. I do not believe my focus in on the negative or “bad” side of society, as some have told me. I am a realist, a pragmatic witness to the realities of the world in which I live. My calling is to absorb the myriad experiences I’ve encountered and find a way to make sense of what is happening to our community. Then I am compelled to share my observations.

I’ve shared this experience with you because it is part of the world we all live in, and if we are truly about wanting a better life for ourselves and those we care about, or even for our community, then we have to find some way to make things better.

I wanted to bring this experience to you so that, in real time, you could flashback to the present – to YOUR present – and look for some small thing you can do, and will do, to make things better for someone else.

No. 65 - 20 to Life

We sat across from one another, confident in our abilities to discuss and explore an issue that so many others find repulsive. We were both anxious to share our viewpoints while at the same time hoping to discover some insight that might help in understanding what goes on in the mind of those most folk would rather ignore. Our hope was that we could somehow gain a better understanding of the mindset and actions of that group in our society we classify as “criminal”.

I can never know if he had an ulterior motive, wanting to gain some upper hand or favor. In truth, the thought never entered my mind. As I look back at the dialog, I can see that I was genuinely intrigued by the opportunity to learn from this Brother. Indeed, for me, as is ever my way, I simply wanted to understand.

He is six months out of prison, having served twenty years for robbery. He had been caught up in his drug addiction and lost all connection to our “logical” world. His crimes were many, having committed one form of crime or another since a very young age. He did not waver in the telling of his story, having chosen a life of crime and recklessness early in life.

The conversation started with me asking questions around the youth of our day and their untoward acts and behaviors that have so routinely lead them to jail or the penitentiary. I had been wondering what it is within our once innocent children that causes them to break away from what they know is good or right to do that which hurts not just themselves, but also their community. I’m compelled to ask these questions because of the many stories I’ve been privy to, and the observations I’ve made about what I suspect are the root causes. And, I must say, I wanted to determine if my overall assessment of the situation was accurate.

As his story goes, he had made up his mind at a very early age to commit to a life of crime. One thing lead to another and then drugs came into his life… first one kind, and then the next, and so on. Soon he was an addict and did what many addicts do to support their habit…

Ultimately, he landed in prison. He boldly proclaimed that it was there, at that low point in his life, that he committed to fixing what was broken within him.

I wanted to know what had caused his behavior at such a young age, and when did he really begin to come to grips with it.

He reiterated, “It’s what I wanted to do.”

In my mind that was not the core issue. In my mind there had to be some other reason or event that had caused this intelligent man to make those choices at such a young age. I am forced to believe we are all intelligent even at a young age, and we all do know right from wrong.

Here he sat, in his late fifties, a testament to the power of a Man to choose differently even at the lowest point in his life. A Man whose life fully demonstrates that our inner strength will ever be far deeper, much stronger, and more entrenched within us than many would have us believe.

So I pressed the issue.

Being careful to maintain the conversation without focusing on him I said, “Surely, we all know the difference between right and wrong. You said you have siblings that are all considered successes by anyone’s measure… what was it about you that caused you to chose a different path?”

His phone rang and he excused himself. I sat there quietly, considering all he had shared while at the same time wanting to take the dialog further. I hoped he would return so the conversation could progress. I hoped I had not scared him off or offended him in any way.

Shortly, he re-entered the room, a broad smile upon his face. He came straightway to his seat and took it.

“That was a friend of mine. I’ve been talking to her for three months now about staying off drugs and coping with her inner demons. I told her she needs to love herself more than ever before because she is facing major challenges in her life right now”, he said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean… so many women are dealing with so many issues these days”, was my response.

“For sure” he said, “and no matter how bad it gets they have to find the strength. For me, it was God. I don’t preach it or anything like that, but that’s how I got over mine”.

There was a brief pause.

“Her Son is in Juvie Hall and he says he doesn’t want to be there. I told her to tell him he has no choice – because he doesn’t – and she needs to be his Mother now more than ever. Then she went on to tell me because of this and her ongoing mistrust, hurt and the pain still present from a past rape she is tempted to go back to the drugs again”, he said.

“Man, she’s got to find that strength… keep encouraging her...”, I started but then he said something that stopped me.

“When I was in prison I decided I couldn’t keep it in anymore. That’s when I started to heal. I stood up and spoke up about when I was raped. It happened when I was five, then six, then seven… all the way to when I was seventeen. My mother didn’t believe me. Said I was making it up. Do you know how that made me feel!?”

We were there… in the thick of it, and so the conversation flowed… “So you needed something to deal with your hurt?”, I asked.

He was quiet.

“When a child is violated and loses his/her sense of trust, and the very people who are supposed to protect and nurture them do not, they find ways to cope”, I said.

He looked at me a moment and then said, “That’s when I gave up. That’s when I found my way of keeping my pain and hurt in check – the drugs, the alcohol, the crime.”



This is a theme I’ve heard from many of the women whose presence and stories I’ve been honored to share in. It is a theme many in our community hold that, in my opinion, continues to wreak havoc even to this day. We have gotten so far away from a true nurturing community in many cases that our very foundation is shaking loose even as we go about our lives acting as if all is well.

I thought about that conversation the rest of the evening… it’s why I’m compelled to write this… and I’ve come to realize that his prison sentence was far longer than the 20 to life he was given by some judge.

His prison sentence began the day his trust was violated and the lack of support for that young innocent child drove him to seeking and embracing his false sense of security, his “forget-about-the-hurt” remedies.

The final thing he told me was his behavior had changed all those many years ago because he did, so early on in his life, what he thought was necessary to protect his sanity and get through the hurt.

Oh, the sad irony of it all. Oh, the unfortunate truth of that reality. Oh, the painful burden he had been forced to carry all those years.

The bad news is that this was his reality and similar realities exist throughout our community in the lives of so many others.

The good news is we can all learn from this brave Brother. He has been clean and sober for more than fifteen years now and has put his haunts to rest. He has found a way to experience self-love while at the same time forgive those whose actions corrupted his Spirit and became the catalyst that nearly ruined his life. He is a testament to our individual strength to rise above any “assigned” station in life where others think to dictate our destiny. His is a journey that spans decades and is filled with victories over the very things that only perpetuate hurt, but that so many find false solace in.

Would we but listen, would we but learn.

No. 64 - How She Cries

I’m writing this after considering some things I had recently heard while working with a group of Women on a project centered around, well, Woman’s issues. I must say I was absolutely floored upon hearing some of the stories these beautiful Sisters shared. These stories will stay with me for a long time to come and I respect the daring, strength and determination of the many Women who felt comfortable enough to share their most personal stories with me in their midst.

In the end, I am saddened by all the hurt, deception, violation of trust, and abandonment that goes on in our community. I feel we have to find a way to overcome these issues in order to have a better experience in this life.

And I am encouraged because the process of healing and recovery has begun. It began the moment these great Women decided it was time to talk about what had happened to them so long ago… and what still happens in our community today. They are on the road to healing.

Try to find a way to take encouragement from this and know that we all have to start talking about the good and bad truths of our lives. This is so because, in order to take back the power and authority to create a stronger community we must first understand we are all either one of two things:

… Part of the problem, or part of the solution.


How She Cries

Upon a time, but not so long ago
I was afraid to see that which is ever before me
My thoughts and machinations were of petty things
Endeavoring to realize some distant goal
Endeavoring to attain some material delight
Yet, never a thought to what is most precious…

Her strength beguiles me, lulls me to a place of solace
And I fail to consider those hidden things that darken Her Soul
I am caused to think that all is well by her joy in the moment
Oblivious to the loud echoes of past hurts that consume Her
Oblivious to the haunting fears that burst into Her reality
Even to this day, only more profound, more pervasive, more contrived

In Her mirror She boldly faces down the monster that seeks Her ruin
She holds Her head high, finding reason to smile, reason to laugh
Reason to move beyond the betrayal that threatens to break Her
She will not allow Her Spirit to be broken
She will not yield to the doom that comes with temptation
Her daily challenge is to find reason to smile, to care, to be

Many look upon Her actions with disdain, contempt, without care
Others laugh at the “pitiful wreak” that fights to forget the pain
Not knowing the inner ordeal, not knowing the flashes of disgust
But She holds fast to Her humanity, even while hidden
But She finds the path to Her own strength, even in the dark
For how can an outsider see the trauma that besets Her

Long ago, in a place that was once safe, secure, called home
She was made to do that which disgusted Her
Over and over, Her trust was betrayed
By the one that was said to be trustworthy
By the one that was supposed to protect Her
Or by the two who had come together to create this beautiful Child

And Her heart ached then as She did Her best to cope
How could they even look at Her, how could She look at them
What was once precious was taken without thought
Taken to never be returned
Taken with no regard to the price She – and we – would ever pay
And the price has been dear to all: tears, hurt, shame, guilt, ignorance

From that moment forward She is changed
Forced to deal with something Her young mind has no preparation for
Made to act as if everything is all right
When in fact Her world has become a nightmare
When in fact She can no longer dream Her innocent dreams
Flashes of fear and hurt become a familiar fixture in Her world

So how does She cry
What has become of this radiant young child that has been so violated
Ten, twenty, thirty, even fifty year later – in this present day
She still sees those sights
She still feels that violation
Only, now the burden is part of Her perception and, it is as it is

We wonder where Her anger draws its power
We think She is crazy, not in touch with reality
Yet She truly is… even more in touch than we are
Because She has not yet found a way to forget
Because the very ones that violated her are still about
And She has held Her pain, Her truth away from all, save a few

She will question you when She cares
She will discard you when She fears
She will love you from Her Soul
She will do so not by being shy, but by being bold
The good in it, the bad in it, the fullness of it
And in the end, if you are enough for Her, She is enough for you

… How She Cries …
Loudly, softly, confidently, fearfully, deeply
Yes, so very deeply
She cries to be free of the haunts, the past hurtful memories
She cries to prevent the lose of Her Soul this tragic violation demands
She cries because She will find a way to breathe

What is the role I must play in all this
Am I the cause for continued duress
Or is mine the hand that will accompany Her in the journey
The choice is ours to make – Hers and mine
Yet, I’ve long known:
A challenging journey shared is always a better journey survived.