We ride grief; we do not conquer it

Grief will lull you into believing it has passed and then rush in unexpectedly.

 We ride grief in waves; we do not conquer it. It is wide and wild and ebbing, coming back to drench you when you think you have wiped your face dry of tears. If you know someone who is riding grief and you ask, “How are you?” They may just be answering for that day. Because tomorrow might just be all wet and the day after that, the sun again rises. Just stand in the water with them and wade. That is how we live.

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A Not-So-Short List of Rules on Interacting with Short Ninjas

A Not-So-Short List of Rules on Interacting with Short Ninjas

The first and last time I almost punched a white woman, she had it coming. I was taking my final tour as a grad student through my university’s book store, when the store manager stopped in front of me. I was almost 25 and she was fairly middle aged, dressed in an appropriately old lady suit with a skirt.  She proceeded to lose her mind. Maybe it was the backpack slung over my shoulder or the lack of makeup on my face. Either way, something foolish possessed this woman.

 (Read the rest on my guest post at VerySmartBrothas.com)

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