On the final day of November I wake up at 5:00am. I lay in bed, frozen in a warm space and try hard to ignore the urge to get up. For more than a month I’ve been waking up at 3:30 so honestly, 5:00 is kind of a treat. It usually takes about 15 minutes of an infomercial to lull me back to bed, but today I decide to just go with it.
I slowly move my body from bed to kitchen persuaded by thoughts of chicory coffee w/ copious amounts of milk. I make coffee. I sit in my kitchen and look around. Stacks of stuff from all my recent projects stare right back at me. All the supplies from Soulflower Saturdays at Pinot Wine Bar. All the things I gathered up for the HBG Picnic & Workshop are still in plain sight too. Funny thing is I like order. It calms my nerves. But here in my personal space I seem to have created a quiet chaos. Since I live alone it’s easy to build or dismantle at my leisure. But I see the pattern & I know it well. Move from one thing to the next. Deal with the aftermath later, much much later. It’s how I’ve always rolled. It’s not a selling point I like to think about, so I pour a cup of coffee, top it off with milk and head back to my bedroom.
Instead of dealing with all the stuff my brain is currently cluttered with I decide to clean my closet. I believe this is what is commonly referred to as avoidance. I don’t care though. My closet is giving me the blues. It’s too small for me. It’s not even that I’ve outgrown it. It’s aIways been too small. I continually make allowances for the lack of space by moving things out more than I move them in. It’s not fun, but whatchu gonna do? Work with what you know that’s what.
There are so many things I need to deal with right now. I’m not just saying that because it’s the holidays and apparently people go through this often during this time of year. I’m saying it because it’s true. I need to seriously decide where I want to be. I need to stop being afraid of love. I deal with less than, far too often. It’s time to change my way of thinking. But more than anything else I need to omit this notion that I was a better version of myself in the past. I don’t like to compare current Devoya with previous Devoya unless it’s to point out the things I’ve learned or improved upon over the years. But seriously…Devoya at 30 was kind of ideal! I would mess somebody up to be that girl again. But in order to do better now, It’s time I retire that feeling and move on already. Le- Sigh.
You know what? It’s nice to come to these conclusions on my own terms, in the bright light of morning with a freshly cleaned closet and warm coffee in my favorite cup. I told y’all I like order.
Devoya Mayo is Co-Creator of The Happy Black Girl
Get To Know An HBG is her favorite column to write.
You can contact her directly at firstname.lastname@example.org