What are you?

Rude right?

I mean, I thought it was quite obvious I’m Black American, but I guess not.  It is now a long running joke with me and my friends about my questionable ethnicity.  This seriously has gone on for many years.

What I find so intriguing  about this phenomenon is that usually there is no segue into the question.  No conversation connectors that might make asking this question logical.

I remember,  for example, sitting in a community hot tub once.  This dude,  never seen him before,  just asks,  ” Are you African American or Indian?–I can’t tell.”

Yup, just like that.  And then he asked me if I’m a Christian . . .and seemed surprised when I left the hottub.

Another great moment happened yesterday. I attended a Zumba class at a dance studio.  I usually only attend belly dance class, so I’m not a regular here by any means.  I took my place in the back wall because I am not familiar with the steps.

A woman next to me says, ”  You look  familiar.  What are you?”

This is how it happens.

No transition, no hello, or “is this your first class?”  Just–”what are you?”

Although I have had this question asked many times and many ways, I was taken off guard this time.

I remember several times replying, “I am a Leo. What are you?”

But not that swift today.

So, I asked her what she meant.

“What’s your background?”

She thought I was from Guyana.  Which has been assumed before.

As far as my nationality is concerned, people have different theories.  People have told me I am from many different countries–Haiti, East India, England, Ethiopia,  Egypt, Barbados, Dominican Republic, Canada?  Yes, Canada really, Jamaica, the Phillipines, and Columbia are a few.

Why no one guesses America is beyond me.  I feel sometimes I just might make things easier on myself if I just tattooed an American flag on my forehead.  . .

but then I would probably be asked to explain  why I have an American flag on my forehead when I’m actually ____.

And then I would be seen as a traitor.  Ok, bad idea.

When visiting an East Indian restaurant a worker there started speaking to me in a language that I cannot even name.  Several people have walked up to me and have started speaking to me in Spanish.

It breaks my heart when I give them the deer in the headlights look.  ”I know nothing of which you speak.”

Granted, I am learning Spanish, so now at least I can let

Tibetan refugee Rhea

people know in Espanol, that I’m learning.

American Rhea

I just do not understand why complete strangers feel ok with asking me this question.  What difference will it make in your life to know this?

I just decided to have fun with it, because even if it is a rude question, people continue to ask.

Too much to write on all this.  What I need is an interactive map.  A map I can post with the places people assume I am from. . .

I’ll work on that. . .

Bermudian Rhea

 

 

 

When you find out the answer let me know

Ah, massage.  I realize most people think of them as a time to unwind and relax. However, it is a rare occasion in which I can enjoy a relaxing massage without going into some in depth, spiritual exchange with the massage therapist.  I have tried, it just does not work out.

Perhaps I should just commit to silence and before the appointment and then schedule time for coffee and conversation with the massage therapist later?  Worth a shot.

So, it’s this phenomenon people experience that was the topic of discussion during my last visit.  I call it self neglect. It’s amazing, because I’m sick with the flu as I write this, and I’ve been noticing all the things my body does all on its own to heal itself–create a high body temperature to get rid of infection, cough to release phlegm. ..and I watch people around me doing things to directly go against any healing of the body, like smoking, for example.

I am not exempt from this, mind you.  I keep having my hip worked on the massage table because I’m not really good about doing the stretches the physical therapist recommended some time ago. I tell the masseuse I have been lazy, and she will need to work the spot.

And so this question gets posed on the table, “Why is it so difficult for us to do things that are self enhancing and good for us?”

And the enlightened masseuse replies, ” If my bike looked like Philly cheese steak I would be in the best shape ever. I don’t get it either.”

So, now both of us are stumped.

Believe it or not, wisdom sometimes comes from the most unlikely places.  And I have to say, if there is one nugget of truth I learned from my eighth grade Algebra teacher, it is this:

“People don’t want to do what’s good for them.”

He says if it has a warning labels somewhere on it that it will kill you, this is what people will want to do.

Now, you have to understand my 8th grade Algebra teacher to get a full appreciation of what’s being stated here. Dude looks like he came straight out of central casting for 80′s pimp. Mid height textured fro, silver satin shirt unbuttoned revealing gold chains.  Shiny rings on every other finger, gold capped teeth, and a jeweled money clip. He would always make sure to flash all the one hundred dollar bills so everyone could see during the class.

I’m writing this now and it seems so bizarre.  But yes, this was my 8th grade teacher.  He ran a very ghetto night club.  This club had a reputation, even in those days–I mean, this is a place in which people lost their lives. . .

And it would close, and open up again under a different name over time as some clubs do when terrible things happen. The last I heard, the club actually offered a “Food Stamp Friday” promotion.

Yup.

I am not sure if teach actually still owns this club, hopefully he has moved on to better things?  I just think, wow, how did this man end up in the classroom teaching impressionable, young children.  Amazing.

At any rate, he was on to something.  It’s crazy because if someone were in my care, like a child, or even an animal, I would make sure that all healthy things were theirs every day.

So, why do I chose not to do healthy things for myself every day?  (Like get enough sleep for example?)

Does anyone know the answer to this question?  Does Tony Robbins?  Deepak Chopra? Oprah?

Anyone?

Cafe Gratitude

I had the most extraordinary experience today at a Kansas City restaurant.  It’s so much more than a restaurant.  I’ve not experienced anyplace quite like it, and wrote a Yelp review, which I decided to post here as well.

My higher self did not accompany me on this visit to Cafe Gratitude.  I chose the cafe because I have a great appreciation for natural and healthful foods.  I want to eat foods that turn into beauty and health, and support the businesses that promote this lifestyle.

I had just experienced a 1 1/2 hour flight next to a young boy who told me everything about his play station, his dogs, his BFF since preschool, somewhat classified information about his father’s job (oops), and  even– yes, even the history of Godzilla.

Operating on maybe 4 hours of sleep, and frustrated I could not find the place after circling around several times, and then having a similar frustration with finding a legal parking space, and oh, almost forgot–

stopping at “Total Tool”. . .

(I mean, one simply MUST stop by Total Tool before going to Cafe Gratitude),

Bottom line, I just wanted to grab something and go . . .

So, my review of Cafe Gratitude is written in the spirit of deep sleep deprivation, tiredness, and stress.  I appreciate the intentions and efforts of all those involved in creating such a space, and feel it should not be discounted or belittled in any way.

My thoughts in this recollection is not to poke fun, but rather, is sort of a reflection of what happens when different states of mind collide.

And now, the review. . .

This is not a “grab and go” place. It’s really a kind and self enhancing environment here.  I  felt as if I had walked into either:

A.  An ashram
B.  A cult of some sort
C.  Rehab

It’s syrupy sweet, and not suitable to some.   I read the affirmations everywhere, and smiled, took a seat at the bar, and was then asked the question of the day.

Yup.  It’s sharing time folks.

The question, “What are you giving up?”

My answer, “Excess.”

Answer of the woman sitting next to me, “I think I’ll answer than one silently.”

Perfect. I’ll use that one next time.

So, waiting for my food, so many observations.  Mainly, the slow, melodic, almost hypnotic kind of  accent everyone that works here uses.

I kept hearing food orders being called up in said accent:

” I am present.”
“I am humble.”
“I am extraordinary.”
“I am comforted.”
“I am connected.”

And in my mind?  Let’s just be honest. . .

“I am freaking nauseated.”

I laughed at my low vibrational affirmation– if there is such a thing.  I needed the laugh, almost as much as sleep and food.

So,the meal.

“I am Fortified”  has an amazing sauce, bitter vegetables, and amazing flavors. I  chose quinoa, which was tasty. I felt the food came from the earth, and it felt nice to nourish myself in this way.

I only wish there were a tinge of sweetness–just a little, just a little– maybe in the form of cranberry?

I wish the vegetables were a little more cooked. Although the flavors were really amazing in the dish, it seems there was something missing in the cohesiveness of the dish. . .

I intend to find out what the missing piece is on a second visit. . .

So, basically, Cafe Gratitude is an experience all its own–and then there is food.

My first visit was kind of a culture shock because I was not aware I needed to do the pre-work of getting centered before visiting–I just thought I was coming for food.

But now that I know, I’ll make sure to pack my higher self next time.

Namaste.

Cafe Gratitude

333 Southwest Blvd
Kansas City, MO 64108

Me and sage

It happened again today.  First time in four years. 

I checked into a hotel.  Got somewhat settled, noticed a strong vibe, and had to check out after an hour of trying to convince myself the room is fine and I need to get over it.  Besides, who wants to pack up all the crap to move?

Me!!!

The first time it happened I was in Iowa.  The hotel was fine.  It was clean, but not the nicest.  But that’s ok.  I mean, I have stayed at some very questionable hotels.  The very worst was a motel in Iowa after the flood.  It was the only room I could find due to people who had lost their homes staying in hotels, and construction workers and engineers being bused in.

The room was so horrible I did not even turn off the lights.  I refused to get in the bed.  And bathing was certainly out of the question.  I just dosed off in a chair and convinced myself I would be fine in the morning. . .and I was.  It seems as if nothing but rough truck drivers and their shady counterparts stayed here.  So yuck.

Well, this other hotel was not like this.  It just had a vibe.  I walked into the room and there was a recognition.  It was just so loud and so clear to me–something went down in that room.  Something very terrible and significant. This was further confirmed by uncontrollable itching I experienced during my one hour stay in that place.

I didn’t even explain anything to the dude at the front desk.  I just called a different hotel and got the hell out.

And today, I kept telling myself to just chill, everything is fine.  And after about an hour of trying to make myself feel comfortable, I could no longer fight it and decided to leave.  I tried to ignore it, but it just kept bothering me.  So, I just told the girl at the front apparently I’m allergic to something in the room.

I learned about sage last year.  It’s just a way of cleaning and clearing the energy around you. I have now made it a tradition to sage my hotel room before I settle in. It makes me feel better when making my home for the night. . .or nights.

I have been told that burning sage smells like pot.  I do not know, or care for that matter.  So far no one has come knocking on my hotel door requesting to search the room for pot.  And I always burn incense in my hotel room as well.  Just makes it feel like home.

The car.  Well. . .I should have taken fire safety before saging the car.  I thought I would be efficient and save time and burn the sage while driving slowly to the post office.  Well, that was pure genius.  Even with the window rolled down, there was smoke whirling all throughout the front seat, with me coughing, head out the window trying to breathe. . . .

and then flickers of burning sage landed in the back seat. . .so now i have a hole in the back seat of my car. 

Don’t sage and drive. Take a bowl or something with you to collect sage pieces when you sage the car, when it is in parked.

I’m now all settled in my new hotel room.  I feel as if I can breathe now, and move, and be comfortable. 

So happy I moved on. . .

 

City of surprises

It seems as if I am behind in life.  Like I’m trying to catch up with things that other people do or understand earlier than I have.  I try not to be down on myself about it, after all, I had no control over my limited exposure in my formative years.

I have not been extremely fond of my understanding of “American culture,” and I’m finding out quite quickly that I don’t know  what American culture really is.  It just seems so broad. . .or something.

I understand I was born and raised in the states, however my experience has been very limited with most of my time in the Southeastern USA–mainly Alabama.  And my Bama experience is not a complete reflection of what life is like here in the states. . .I don’t know America.

So, my visit to Kansas City was such a huge surprise to me.  I have heard of people saying that midwesterners are “good” and “honest” people.  A line in Rich Mullins song, “Hard” comes to mind, “I am a good midwestern boy, I give an honest day’s work when I can get it.  I don’t cheat on my taxes, don’t cheat on my girl, I got values that would make the White House jealous. . .”

And you know what, props to KC.  This is what I noticed:

• People are friendly and polite.  I mean, they let you pass in the hallways if you need to.
• People let you change lanes in traffic.  It blows my mind!  I even changed lanes without need just to see if someone will let me over, and they do it every time.  And every single time it freaks me out, and I go through this “OMG, I cannot believe this statement every single time it happens.”
• In business, it seems people don’t say more than what is necessary.  I like this. It seems rather drama free and to the point
• Seems that everything is geared towards quickness and efficiency (I found that out as soon as I stepped inside the airport)
• They don’t take my housekeeping tips in the hotel room unless I leave a note.  So, when I left a note telling them it was a tip, they left me a note back thanking me for it How cute!
• The parking is free in the parking garages.  I kept looking for places to pick up my ticket but could never find it, and then posted something on Yelp and locals told me yeah, it’s free.  What is this??!!  What???!!
• The fashion of course is different than what I am used to.  Young dudes tend to have beards. I mean, it’s like the norm.  Dark rimmed glasses, sweat shirts , jeans, cross body bag, and beard.
•  Not a lot of jewelery or accessories on the females. However I did notice a disturbing trend of severe chunking highlights and way too many Vera Bradley backpacks
• There seems to be a lot of investment in the local community in agencies that assist others

I have been told the shady side of KC is really on the Kansas side.  This whole KC, Missouri, KC, Kentucky is really confusing to me.  At first I thought it was a city that just happened to be located on state lines, however, I was quickly informed that KCMO and KCKS are very different cities, and there can even be some rivalries between them.

I had a fantastic time in KC– I really look forward to returning and spending some more time exploring.  The KC Yelp community has been so welcoming and helpful in directing me to where I need to go.  I was not aware that KC is actually the “city of fountains,” and it has been said only Rome has more.

I hate I missed Anthony Bourdaine’s special on KC.  I am sure there has to be a way for me to see it.  Only I’m guessing it involves a lot of BBQ?  What about BBQ tofu?  Hmmmm.

So, many surprises and many more to come from this surprising city!

Florida girl

One of the things I have noticed about traveling is that people “show” themselves all the time without even knowing it. It’s like, I cannot explain it, but when I see it, I know it.  So, sometimes I feel the vibe of a person, check out their clothes, or hear an accent, and it’s like, “your Midwest is showing.”

Or when I met this girl in Alabama, she started talking, and she had NYC written all over her.  And I just laughed and couldn’t hold it in any longer and busted out with the “OMG, you are SO from NY.”  And she immediately started laughing hysterically.

And even though I have only been in Florida for 4 years now, it seems that I have morphed into a Florida girl. It’s weird because I feel I have not changed that much as a person, but then I go to Alabama and it’s like shocking. I mean SHOCKING.

The slowness.  The sing song drawl.  The “what church do you go to?  Is Jesus Christ your Lord and Saviour?” question that always gets asked that drives me nuts. . .or even, the “what are you?” question.

Ughhhhhh!!!  I told someone once that I’m a Leo in response to the “what are you?” question.  I suppose it beats having an argument with a total stranger about why that’s a rude question.  If I have to explain why it’s rude, it’s really futile. Really.

And I have had those spirited debates (in my younger years)  with strangers in Alabama before.  One man stopped me and asked me what religion I belong.  He then told me what I was, or what he thought I should be,  and wanted to know my religious background.  I could not believe I was having this conversation in the middle of Wal Mart with someone I have never met before. . .and yet I was.

WTF?

I have learned to just shut those people down now.  Respond simply with “That’s personal, thank you.”  And if they insist, do the broken record method while continuing to walk away, pepper spray visible, “that’s personal, thank you.  That’s personal, thank you.” And if it escalates, well, I have more direct words in reserve to be used, that will not be listed on this lovely post. . .

Cheesus.

But Orlando is different.  Yes, people in general seem to be flirty here.  Obsessed with labels; their gorgeous bodies, and tend to be materialistic.  People here like to party, and like money (or at least in the circles I have observed). Of course there are some that do not fit this description, however, this is the general vibe I get about this place.

Orlando seems to be drama filled.  Missing people.  Sexual predators.  Kidnappings. If you watch a lot of crime shows like I do–Dateline, Discovery Investigation, Fugitive shows. . .a lot of these stories take place in Florida.  Yep, it’s all here.

What I love about Orlando?  Well, fireworks somewhere every night. The breeze, warm weather, International diversity.  There really is a lot to do here, and a lot of places to party, and plenty of people to party with.  Many people say Orlando is a small city trying to be a large one.  Ok, good point, but it’s cute here.

Now, sense of community?  Not so much.  Lots of people coming in and out. Actually, it’s very difficult to find people who were born and raised here…it seems as if everyone is from somewhere else.

Many New Yorkers here have voiced having a hard time adjusting.  It’s too spread out. You have to drive everywhere. And of course, it’s Not NYC, so it’s not the “center of the universe.” Bless their hearts.

I love it here though.  The cost of living is not outrageous.  The weather is phenomenal.  And I love meeting the different characters. . .but that’s everywhere I go really. . .

I wish it were more progressive here, however.  Public transportation has many opportunities for improvement.  And I do not understand the laws here that are not very gay friendly, even though Orlando was just named #2 for gayest cities in America.

I’m not sure if there ever will be a perfect city anywhere in the world, but for now, Orlando is home.  I love it here.

Sacred Space

I think every church should have a garden.  I find them reflective, soothing, and sacred.  I feel the same way about inside of churches as well. . .especially if there is no one inside it.  Nothing like being inside an empty sanctuary. . .there is a presence.

My theory of Kansas City

So, I will be commuting to Kansas City for work this month.  To be clear, I have never been to this area–the closest is Springfield and Branson, MO–Las Vegas for seniors. I did not get to spend much time there because of an approaching snow storm–so basically, I flew in, quickly arranged to get out, and left the next morning.

While on the flight to KC, I thought it might be fun to write out how I think the city might be, and then compare it to what I actually observe.  This is what I know of KC at this point:

1.  The state of KS is referenced in the movie, “Wizard of Oz”

2.  Kansas and the Midwest is known for flat land and tornadoes

3.  KC has a Yelp community manger, so it has to be a cool place

So, not a lot of reference or knowledge at all.  This is what I think KC will be like:

• Conservative, slow pace
• I think people may be friendly, but long winded
• Style.  Plain Jane, minimal styling, jewelry, accessories, and cosmetics
• I feel I will not get the humor here
• I feel accents will be non-distinguishable (not heavy in any particular direction)
• I think it will be more progressive than states I have visited in the deep south

These are the thoughts in my mind about Kansas City now. . .I’ll write a month from now to let you know if my theory is correct or not.

This is what I love most about traveling. . .fascinating stuff.

What if?

So, I have been wondering what would happen if . . .

I spent my day doing things I wanted to do.

I took time out to have fun and relax and not work so much.

I worked on projects today that I keep telling myself I can work on later. . .

There is this ridiculous line of thinking that we will have more time another day to do what we feel we have no time for today. . .

The truth is, there really is never going to be an “ideal time,” so may as well work on it now.

I’m going to find out.  I have been trying to find someone to do this sort of challenge with me, but so far no takers, so I’ll just do it with myself. . .

I’ll let you know how it goes. . .

 

 

A walk in the woods

I learned about the National Parks Passport from a Yelper in Jacksonville, FL.  It’s a really fun and cool way to seek out natural treasures through parks.  The passport is divided into geographical regions, so it makes it easy to plan trips.

I am amazed at how much I am discovering since purchasing this.  It really is actually fun and I look forward to seeking out new parks when I travel.

What really makes this fun is that you can actually get a stamp for all of the parks you visit.  Sometimes special stickers and special stamps are available as well.  This program has been around for some time now, and I wish I knew about it sooner.

I think this would be an excellent hands on way to teach children about history, and feel that kids would enjoy getting the passports stamped.  In addition, it’s a great record of different areas visited within the country.

As a teenager, my family and I drove from Alabama to California and back, camping out at various locations along the way.  It took us about 2 weeks to do it, but it was definitely the trip of a lifetime.  I would have loved to have this passport then to document the parks we visited.

I took some time out of the work week to visit Fort Caroline in Jacksonville this week. I feel the best way for me to be productive at work is to enjoy myself as much as possible when I’m not working.

It’s such a shady place with a lot of greenery, in addition to the wooded trails.  The trails are well marked, and there are a couple of piers for boats.  Honestly, I was having a very stressful week, and I was amazed at how just 30 minutes in the woods, and watching the water made such a big difference in my spirit.  I felt so much lighter when I left.

I was told the fort itself was closed on the day I visited, which is a shame, but it gives me a reason to return soon.  I really appreciated the history and exhibits that are in this area.  It seems every time I visit a national park I realize how much about US history I do not know.

Passport to your National Parks

The passports can be purchased online, or at the National Park of your choice.  It seems some locations are more well stocked than others, so I would call to make sure they are in stock.

Fort Caroline

12713 Fort Caroline Road
Jacksonville, FL 32225

My review of Fort Caroline on Yelp