WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Friday, November 27, 2009

525,600 Minutes

So this is my third post Thanksgiving post. Two years ago I wrote about Big Mamas. Or the lack thereof. Last year, my post was cut short, because someone had broken into my car. And that leads me to the point of this year’s post. Dang really – have two years really gone by?!? I don’t even know what I was thinking about two years ago – unless I read my old posts. And my car being broken into a year ago seemed like such a HUGE deal – if only I had known that months later it would actually get stolen. Lol. And when I think of these things it causes me to wanna break out into song and start singing, “525,600 minutes. How do you measure, measure a year?”

"525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?" Seasons of Love, Rent the Musical

Last November I was unemployed, living with my mama, knee deep in like with this man. A year later – I work a job that I love, I have bought a house, and I am now waist deep in dislike with that nygga. Trying to get it down to the knees though. Lol. And so how does one measure a year like that? One can’t count the joy and ignore the pain. One can’t focus solely on the many tears that were shed and forget that there was lots of laughter there too. And one must be grateful for the good, bad and the that sho’ll was ugly – cause it’s all there for a reason.

And so I measure this year in the ordinary. In the everyday. Not in the extremes, but in the things that kept me sane and grounded. The simple things, the lovely, simple things. My grandmama’s Thursday fried chicken and biscuit dinners; weekly Bible Study with my old folk; my daily gmail chats with Mint Julep full of rants, philosophies, and gripes on men folk; great trips with 5 spot; dozens of little girls from the hood telling me how much they love the program I provide thus making me love my job even more; this here blog; my mama’s smile; my parents empty bed that I climb into when I’m feeling blue to watch TV or nap; lazy Saturday afternoons with marathons of The Game; my three aunties whose houses always serve as refuge and whose ears are always open; my daddy calling me beautiful; my brother and I sharing a laugh at anything, everything and nothing in particular; my drive to and from work that serves as me-time where I sing loudly and dance to my favorite songs - regardless of if white people are lookin at me; free drinks from my bartender boos; dinners with the girls where things start with a giggle, then become a laugh, then guffaws; my mama and granny seeing me off every morning like it’s my first day of school telling me to have a great day; my afternoon tea; evening TV watching; annual family gatherings and regular church services. And in all of that ordinary, in all of that everyday, there were unexpected lessons. But even better there was love. Lots of love. And for that I am thankful.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

1 comment:

OurHealth said...

Love it, I think I will try and measure this year in the ordinary as well. After all those moments are what we string together to call a life. Thx for sharing. - Vanessa