Urban Thought Collective

She sat on the stoop, head hung low and with her arms wrapped around her torso, giving herself a much-needed hug. The sun was peaking through the trees and she sat quietly alone, rocking back and forth like her body was swaying with the wind.

When I saw her, my stomach twitched with nervousness because I knew this was going to be drama.

As she walked towards me she smiled a big smile like she was greeting an old friend. And with the warm welcome she began her story. It’s a story I’ve come to know too well. It always starts with someone doing something to her, someone conspiring against her, someone holding her back, or as she claimed on this day, someone being jealous of her and trying to get her. When I looked into her eyes I could tell she was gone. Gone. I don’t even think she heard a word I said because she was so busy living in her world. She didn’t realize she was the only one there.

This is a lost woman. This is desperate woman. She was looking for help. And she turned to me. I obliged, but I realize when you look in someone’s eyes and see a blank screen, a thick cloud, a heavy fog obstructing your view of their soul, you leave them alone.

At some point I knew I had to distance myself from her. It’s hard to tell someone who is in such a desperate situation “no,” but I realized in order to help her I’d have to decipher “crazy.” More than that I’d have to understand “crazy” and doing that could possibly open a Pandora’s box. I wasn’t willing to go deep cover, to possibly lose myself to help her be better.

My co-worker asked why I chose to help her in the first place. I said because she’s homeless and she asked for help. She’s a woman who’s lost everything including her child. She’s been bouncing from shelter to shelter and eventually sleeping on somebody’s porch all the while toting a bag filled with papers that are more like fragments of a puzzle piecing together who she was. I allowed what I saw – the homeless “bag lady” – to silence the voice within me that told me to stay away. I remembered the voice a month or so later on that sunny windy day as I spoke with her and her not hearing a word I said.

The voice is never wrong. Never. Looking back I see that I judged the voice. I thought it was insensitive to her situation. I thought it was judging her. So I didn’t listen, and in doing so, I put her before myself. And then her world started to infringe on my peace. Her world was trying to inject this negative energy in my space. It’s a blessing it didn’t take long to catch on. There was a time when I hung in with folks for much, much longer than that only to walk away feeling drained.

I remember watching Oprah’s Soul Series when she spoke with guest Byron Katie about how to say no to her relatives who manipulate her for money. She said their attitude is “you got it, why not give it to me.” She said she does it hoping it’s the last time they ask but it never is. So Ms. Katie coached her on how to say no (which was funny to watch). But I recalled this episode once everything was said and done. I learned in that moment when I realized my peace was at stake that I’m not willing to sacrifice it no matter how it looks. Just like Oprah’s relatives not understanding her telling them no when she’s a billionaire. My peace of mind is just as valuable. Even more so.

But I’m not going to lie. I envision the “bag lady” and ask myself, “Damn, Yaminah. Are you being a selfish bitch?” If the alternative is disturbing the tranquility I’ve worked hard to build in my life, then in the illustrious words of Redman, “I be dat!”
Peace.

UTC readers: In all that we seek to be or do or have, we humbly realize that in the Presence is our power to think, our very thought of aspiration, our will to commence, our strength to keep on, our power to achieve, and the glory of all our accomplishments. This is the Truth and it is now done. ~ A prayer from “Discover the Power Within You”

Envisioning you with much love, light and fulfillment. See you next week.

Yaminah Ahmad is editor-in-chief of The Atlanta Voice and contributing editor to Collective Voices, a newspaper published by the non-profit, SisterSong: Women of Color Reproductive Health Collective. More information on the group can be found at www.sistersong.net. Ahmad can be reached at missyaminah@gmail.com.