Anonymity

Situation: An awesome occasion has transpired! Beautifully executed, from start to finish. There have been raving reviews. But, you're literally hiding behind the scene and don't want to be noticed because you think your importance is insignificant. You don't NEED to be seen! You're letting others 'show' your work, even taking the credit - and they do it with pride, while in the shadows or behind the curtain you lurk... unassumingly, unselfishly, unnoticed.

Is it that you think so little of your contribution and addition that you don't want visibility in any form?
You say you don't NEED a stamp, don't NEED a pat on the back, don't NEED to be pointed out, as a matter of fact. 
Well, the reason YOU explained, is that you're just exuding the love in the things you love to do and you do it 'just because'. Anyway, HE gets the glory when you're through and that satisfaction, in itself, is enough for you.

But are there other factors involved; other reasons you don’t want acknowledgment … maybe self-esteem, self-worth, confidence, or a physical imperfection? Maybe you've never really had anyone to encourage you to pursue your talent. So many questions and possible answers as to why you want to be anonymous. Yet, you smile and go on… So unpretentious, so humble, so modest. What a BIG heart you have!
But, unbeknownst to you, you ARE seen from afar and admired by many. Some of whom, like yourself, are not accredited their accomplishments. Your 'worth' does not go as unnoticed as you may think! 

Summation: Humility is not exploited, but anointed! You ARE acknowledged. There are rewards that await you for what you do. Maybe not by any physical means of your own, but be aware! That there is an "All Seeing Eye Watching You" and sees…

Blessings,
PJ Payne

Let's Move

As we grow and mature into the adults we have become, we can’t help but remember the ‘bridge that carried us over.' Mine was my mom with all the moral lessons she instilled in her kids along the way... spiritually and ethically. She was a woman of many words, and I especially remember when she used to say, "Don't worry about what's going on now or the past. It will come back full circle." Never would I have dreamt that shoes, furnishings, toys, cars, music, styles of clothing, jewelry, even hairdos would evolve. We see this all the time in our children's choices, trends on TV, and social media. The change may be that a style has a different name or different hue in color, but in essence, it’s the same. Somebody just revamped an old style! And we always want to be in style, right? Even as children.

Don’t you just hate it though! Think of all of the older styles of clothing that have made a comeback... a complete circle. Makes you think you should have kept that paisley blouse, hoop earrings, or clog shoes you use to stylishly flaunt. But of course fabrics, colors and cut have changes. And ‘new age’ folks CAN tell the difference, so “Nah, it wouldn’t work!”

Have you ever asked yourself, what will styles be like in twenty years? Who knows? But what we do have are the memories. Unless, medical issues arise, memories won't leave and sometimes we can vividly go back. They are etched and fixed! 

So, reflecting back on life, it seems times really have not completely changed. And memories make you want to return to those young carefree childhood days, but unfortunately, you have to progress with progression.
So cherish the memories. But until retro returns and comes back around, let's move forward.

Blessings,

PJ Payne

What's the Fuss?

Isn't He amazing! God gives us just what we need, in His time, which is when we need it. Sometimes we don't even realize that we need it because we think we can work our own magic. We're running around hustling and bustling, trying to figure things out; shedding tears; blood pressure rising... we get in a frenzy when our backs are against the wall. Stuff happens!! So when we can't find immediate answers, those humanistic instincts kick in. 

"How soon we forget whose child we are". As Christians, we say we know God, but do we really?? We throw up our hands in despair; we throw temper tantrums like little kids who can't have their way; we get all worked up because 'we' can't work out the problem; we personalize failure and give up! But guess what? That's really what He really wants us to do... let Him. "Who's your Daddy"? Who will take care of you? Who's got your back? Who will catch you when you fall?

Just when we think it's all over, we've run the race, we've lost the battle, He is standing on the sidelines watching and waiting and then... HE INTERCEDES!

He guides us as He touches us; clears the path of obstacles so we can see.  He takes the reins to lead us out of confusion. He helps us to think clearly, so as to not draw our own conclusions.

And then, only then do we grasp who truly has the answers. The only magic touch is the 'Touch of the Master'! He guides us across the finish line. And when we let Him guide us through the path He wants us to take, we will realize we're in for the race of a lifetime. Consequently, we wonder "what was all the fuss?"

Blessings,

PJ Payne

In Me, Of Me

As a poet and writer, there is always something that inspires me to put on paper what's in my head. The bulk of my inspiration has come by seeing and listening to the works of some of our most renown Black Poets, namely Phyllis Wheatley, Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou. This is Black History Month, so I think it nothing short of appropriate to honor unparralleled writers and authors. 

I truly believe most writers write through inspirations and experiences. Our heritage and experiences are the stepping stones for us as black poets to articulate our movement; convey our thoughts, and construe them in print. No matter what race, color or creed, we all express ourselves… each in his/her own way; each in his/her own time. BUT writing is timeless.

I say that because in my research, I found that as a people, we may have been down in time of slavery, even the depression, but we were not out!! A prime example is Phillis Wheatley; a young girl in the late 1700’s who was sold into slavery, after being kidnapped. She was bought as a personal servant for the wife of John Wheatley, thereby customarily taking on the Wheatley name. Considered to have quick intelligence, she was taught to read and encouraged in literary pursuits…thus world-wide acknowledgement of her works. Phillis Wheatley holds the esteemed honor of being the First Published African American Poet.

I desired to know more about Phillis Wheatley, also spelled Phyllis Wheatly, because as a child, I attended a school named in her honor, as are many. And as an adult, I began writing when my kids were little; reflecting on those who were before me and during my era... their styles, techniques, etc. 

I've spent countless hours alone with a Cup 'o Joe, my Bible or journal and my inspiration-Thee. My thoughts utter via pen, whatever creeps into mind at that time...

I Write

Sometimes I feel 

as though I have 

so much to say and 

if I didn't have a outlet

I'd burst wide open...

so, I Write 

My brain goes much faster 

than even my fingers 

can wrap around a pen, 

or type on a keyboard, 

or even my body can move 

to a position, to a point whereas 

I can regurgitate 

what is stirring inside

so... I Write

Blessings,

PJ Payne

Clarity

“It was right before my eyes and I couldn’t see it.”

Have you ever been oblivious of your surroundings? Have you ever searched for something and found it was visible to everyone else, but you? That’s a sign of having too many ‘irons in the fire,’ too much on your plate, a deficit in organizational skills, not prioritizing, or just not being focused. Basically, you’re SWAMPED!

For instance, a few weeks ago I was searching frantically for my keys. Because of my sometimes hectic schedule, I tried to develop a pattern of what I do from the time I walk through my front door…e.g., keys on the counter, purse on the chair, take off shoes in the bedroom, etc. Unfortunately, the new pattern doesn’t always fit 'my' pattern, Lol. So, I continued to search for about 10 VITAL minutes of my schedule to find those keys. I retraced my steps from the time I walked through the door earlier until the time I had to leave. Nothing!! No keys to be found! On the bright side - I was even able to locate a favorite earring, which had been ‘lost’ for weeks. But the keys, NOWHERE! 

I thought about what my mom used to say “they are sitting somewhere laughing at me.” So after a while, I exhaled and regrouped my thoughts. “It didn’t help!”  I decided to make that dreaded call, stating I could not make the appointment. I walked over to my purse to retrieve my phone. As I hurriedly picked up my purse, I heard a jingle… my keys! Wow, unbelievable! Of course, I had previously checked my purse. Yep, the keys were looking and laughing.

I proceeded to make the call, as I would have had to rush to get to my appointment on time. But this extra time I had unexpectedly been given, gave me a moment to reflect on my life. I thanked God for it and thought about the things I deemed important. Why was I always so consumed with things to do?

I told you about that experience in order to tell you this. Don't get so busy in life that you can't see what's going on around you; that you can't understand something that's right before your eyes; that possibly you're being misled, you're being overlooked, or you’re being used. So many things can happen if your focus is off and you are too busy. And last but not least, don't always view things with ‘rose-colored glasses.’ Just use good judgment and clarity in your decisions.

On the other hand don't get so busy that you don't enjoy the simplicity's in life.  Just relax and enjoy sometimes! 

Side-note - my kids purchased me a Keyfinder! "Ain't God good!!"

Blessings,

PJ Payne

The Wall

Have you ever just walked around and meditated on where you are - especially if you are someplace you've never been? Have you ever just taken in the ambience of your surroundings and thought about the goings-on and the untold tales a structure could hold? I guess as a writer, I'm always seeing beyond what may be visible to the naked eye; looking for the story.
In one of my more recent ‘adventures,’ those were my very thoughts. I came up with this…

If walls could talk, they would tell a great story… 
Generate a best-seller; No pain, no glory
No ifs, ands, or buts because all is in truth
From a reliable source – the walls that surrounded you

There would be no bias, no editing or deleting
No reason for formatting words for completion
No twisting the facts, as facts they would be
No need to run, as ‘their’ eyes did already see

And seen from an equitable point of view
No partiality taken, because the walls saw YOU
They’d tell the complete story, even what you would fear
All ‘coming out in the wash,’ loud and clear

Inevitably, you would have to fess-up, 
Your word is against theirs, no room for hiccups
And who would dispute their stationary glare
That was glued to indiscretions; your states-of-affair

Nights or days, whichever you choose
Cannot deny your actions; in any case, you would lose
Discrete, yet recklessly messing around
Thought you had it all together, safe and sound

Very respected, pretentiously held your ground
Then your house came crashing down
Thought you were in the clear, had a sanctimonious air
Biggity, uppity, epitome of ‘savoir faire’

The 'on-looker' that you didn't see 
Was plain in view, so you couldn't cop a plea
Had your back against the 'wall'
Could not wiggle out, even when you stood tall

The question in this story - do we know what we do?
Who we do things with; where do we do it?
Doing good versus evil… the decision is your call
Behind closed doors or opened, there is still that ‘Wall’

But heed this reminder - there is an 'all seeing eye'
Watching each step, watching each stride
Focused on your talk and focused on your walk,
And your tale WILL be told, when ‘The Wall’ begins to talk.

Inspired 2018

Blessings,
PJ Payne

"ASK..."

What one asks for is not necessarily what one needs. NO, it may not be what you need, but at the given time, it is what you might want, right? Well, I’ve had so many revelations in my life whereas I may have just thought about something I wanted, and BOOM, I looked up and there it was. And it was only a thought – a subconscious one, at that!

I’m going to tell you a story... one I had not openly spoken of ever, other than to a ‘confidante.’ And this memory came to me as I continue to read revelations and hearing stories of women coming out about sexual harassment in the workplace and otherwise. By no means does my situation hold the equivalence of severity a lot of women have endured, but its significance dictates harassment.

Years ago I worked in an atmosphere with predominantly men. The work wasn’t exactly my ‘cup o’ tea’ but it was what I needed to continue my lifestyle and pay the bills. It was one of those jobs that required women to basically ‘man up’ because that was the setting. Because I eventually transferred to a position that didn’t require continuous heavy lifting and such, my responsibilities did not necessitate much strenuous, physical work on my part. The ‘negative’ aspect of this was that I worked a continued rotation schedule. My work-day consisted of either 8 or12 hour shifts… days, evening, graveyards – respectively. 

Although they were my least favorite of the three, I preferred working graveyards because I worked alone. My favorite shift was the days, which allowed me to spend some much needed time with my family. Unfortunately, the thorn in my side was the fact that I worked with a whole crew of about seven other guys and usually one woman. My department was pretty large, so it took all of us to make things run smooth and proficient… Well, that’s how I saw it. Working with guys, I had to endure their ‘shop’ talk with ALL of the curse words to go with it. And reporting this? That was not in the cards!! I think I was in a category by myself as a young Christian woman, so I tried really hard to busy myself…waiting on the clock. 

One huffy, gruff gentleman (for lack of an appropriate description) thought he was God’s gift to women, literally! I'll call him Joe. He was tall, brash, vociferous, and boastful, a woman basher… on top of that, he thought he was the strongest of them all and knew EVERYTHING. Oh, yea. Did I say Joe was a chain-smoker??? And oh, so very inconsiderate of where he flicked his ashes and butts. I think you get the whole picture now.

Trying to make this story a little shorter, I HATED with a passion when my 'day shift' came around and I had to work with him. The other guys, I tolerated. But it seems that whenever Joe was in the mix, everything was elevated to another level, which was usually loud, abusive, and obnoxiously frustrating. I think the WORST part in all of this is that he always seemed to want to hug ME! UGH!!! Smoke and stale liquor breath. With each touch, I cringed inside and out. Then he’d grin. Seems it didn’t bother other women… but I question their caliber.

The real point I’m trying to make here is that deep down inside, I wished I didn’t have to work with him on days. I vividly recall thinking “if only I could get a small break from him - his abusive language and abrasiveness."

As I worked other shifts, there was really no interaction or communication between employees with the exception of the person whom you’d be relieving or replacing. The dialogue would be all about work – unfinished or finished duties; hardly ever would we discuss personal goings-on.

Then, my days rolled around again! That SICK feeling in my gut reoccurred. The sluggish, depressive mode hit me, but I had to do it because I was the ‘breadwinner.’ If I didn’t work, nothing got paid! Does that sound familiar? I sucked it up and went to work that gray Monday morning. But, the atmosphere was different. It was calmer, quieter, more serene. Then I realized as I grabbed my coffee from the break room and started towards the work area that I didn’t hear THAT voice. JOE wasn’t there!

I sat down and finally got the nerves to ask where is Joe?  One of the older guys asked, “Didn’t you hear?” “Hear what, I asked?" “He had an accident this weekend, he said. He severed a couple of his fingers. One had to be reattached. He will be off for the next few months."  My heart seemed to stop. My only answer was, “Oh my God!”

And you know the rest...

Blessings,

PJ Payne