a psalm for hard days.

i was supposed to be writing a building in public log today. this thing where you tell the truth about what you’re learning on the journey for those who are interested in keeping up with your progress. the last few have felt more structured.

but i have no motivation to write that version. instead i am sitting in the LaGuardia airport crying behind my sunglasses in a chair at gate 20. mind you, it’s 6:45a. and i forgot that i’m wearing glasses where you can still see my eyes. which is why the black woman in the pink track suit with the beautiful natural afro sitting across from me is looking at me like, sis u ok?

and right now i’m not ok. and i’m frustrated by that because i should be.

by all accounts, i should be floating. the last 48 hours have been nothing short of extraordinary. there were two experiences yesterday that are a marker of our progress and growth. one that was a full circle moment that connected my old life to my new one. and the other was evidence that my practices are becoming fruitful. both things i’m not at liberty to share just yet but both are pretty incredible.

and yet in the midst of the progress i feel regression. and it’s disturbing my spirit.

for the last 48 hours i have interacted with many, many people. my trip back home is solo and i was excited to have the day to myself to reflect on all that’s happened and get some deep work done. there’s nothing like a couple hours at the airport or up in the air to have space to do some of my best work. i can have my headphones on and no obligation to speak to anyone for hours. bliss.

so this morning, when i arrived at LGA (which is beautiful btw), i had an extra hour before i was meant to board. so i got in the starbucks line excited to get some treats for myself. yesterday, i was pretty much in a fasted state because it was an important day and also just lost track of time and had a few things at a late dinner. i woke up super hungry.

as i’m perusing the line, knowing i’m alone, i think to myself i’m literally going to get everything in my heart’s desire. caramel macchiato. bacon and gouda sandwich. a rice krispie treat for later. and a water.

when i went to check out, I couldn’t find my bank card in my bag. i’m scrambling, moving things around in my bag trying to find it. trying to remember where i last placed it. i’m starting to panic because the line behind me is super long, filled with people who are all in a hurry trying to grab their morning caffeine before the day breaks.

after what feels like forever, i still can’t find my card but remember i have it on apple pay. i am remedial at how to use Apple Pay because i rarely use it. so i’m now asking the barista how to do it. he’s being so kind and so gentle, saying take your time because he can tell i’m now getting self-conscious about holding up the line. we finally got it to work, but now it says that the card is declined. i tell him, that’s crazy. do it again. it’s declined again. now im thinking maybe it’s apple pay. he asks, is your card locked? i look at him puzzled and reply, i have no idea what that means.

so i go back to digging in my bag looking for the physical card. finally i found it in a pocket i never place it. and i feel relieved. ok we’re good now. but as i go to tap the card, it says it’s declined again. and now i’m officially out of options. i feel defeated.

i say to the barista who has the look of pity in his eyes, you know what. nevermind. something is up. i don’t know what it is. i’ve held up the line for 5 minutes. so im just going to step over here and see what the problem is.

my first instinct is that because i’m out of town my bank is being weird. but i haven’t gotten a text from them asking to verify a purchase. so i login to my banking app and see that i have only $14.51 in my account. the Starbucks order was like $17.

i think to myself, how did my account get so low so fast? i realize while i’ve been in New York, i’ve only really had to pay for Ubers or order food. in those apps i have my work card stored. but i’ve never put my work card in apple pay even though i’ve been meaning to do it. it’s on the impossibly long list of things to get done that i seem to never have time to do. after scrolling the transactions, i see that i’m behind on reimbursements, amongst other things. had i taken care of it before i left, i wouldn’t have had to deal with this public humiliation of not being able to pay for starbucks in an anxious line full of strangers.

there were years and an entire era where i never had to check my account. i’m not in that era right now. the last five years have been a struggle financially. i went through a brutal divorce that robbed me of nearly everything i had worked so hard to earn. and after leaving corporate, i lived off savings for four years, paid for college and invested in this mission. i decided to start my life over. live a mission-driven, people-first, service-driven existence. one that honors God’s intentions for my life. and it has been up and down. more than i imagined. and more than i hoped for. even though we have raised seven figures as a business and have a company that is operational, we are still just beginning, paying ourselves what we can. it takes more time when you do things the right way. i don’t own anything. no house. no car. i have two suitcases worth of clothes. i have no stocks, bonds or 401k. that was all wiped out in the divorce. and i have depleted all of my savings. i am still recovering from the damage done by my marriage.

the truth is, through this journey, i have always had exactly what i needed, exactly when i needed it. i have never been without. i am beyond blessed. and there are so many people who are actually suffering. i know i’m being a brat right now. and most days, even with less, i’m so, so much happier. but even with that data and 100% rate of needs fulfilled, financially it feels like walking a tightrope and holding on by what feels like a thread. i thought things would be different by now. i thought there’d be more cushion or breathing room. but there’s not. and it makes me so angry. and it feels embarrassing.

as i get to the gate, with no coffee and no treats, i pull out my laptop and start processing reimbursements so i can fill up my account with enough to get home.

the tears just started flowing rapidly. i’m tired. this journey has been long. and most days i do my best to endure. but today, the day after a magnificent day, i feel broken.

sitting to my left is a Jewish man, who’s wearing tefillin. i google what it represents:

it’s a set of two small black leather boxes attached to long leather straps. each box contains handwritten parchment scrolls with specific passages from the Torah (from Exodus and Deuteronomy) that instruct the wearer to keep God’s words close to the heart and mind.

he has the Torah open and he’s quietly reciting Hebrew to himself. it reminds me in the midst of my tears to start a conversation with God.

why am i crying like this? what’s underneath this? why do i still feel like i’m struggling? you know what we need. where is it?! i whisper quietly but angrily under my breath.

as i pause, breathe, exhale and wait for the answer, the tears continue to flow intensely. i put on my Bose headphones and start playing Optimistic by Sounds of Blackness. it’s my go-to song when i’m down. it always, always pulls me up. as the chorus comes through, i lose it.

Don’t give up and don’t give in, although it seems you never win

You will always pass the test as long as you keep your head to the sky

You can win as long as you keep your head to the sky

You can win as long as you keep your head to the sky

Be optimistic

i am unable to stop the tears from falling. i bury my head in the turtleneck of my oversized black sweater. slowly, images from the day before gently start to come into my awareness.

yesterday, i shared space with someone who is a trigger for me. she has a lot of money. she is very influential. she flies first-class or private. she’s got a big team. she’s light skinned. she is conventionally beautiful. she has long beautiful flowing hair. she’s fashionable. designer everything. she’s beyond charming. she says whatever she thinks and she doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her (or at least that’s how she appears to move). she is everything i’m not. and she has everything i think i want. or thought i wanted. i’m still not sure what i’m supposed to want. i sometimes don’t know what’s me or what’s God.

she’s acquired it in a way that my spirit, soul and body just won’t allow. from what i’ve observed, she’s motivated by money and status. she’s a little brash. she’s a little harsh. she’s a little cutthroat. she’s willing to step on people to get to where she wants to be. she talks down to people. she speaks with a conviction about work, life and leadership as if it’s the truth. and maybe it’s someone’s truth. but it’s certainly not mine. it all looks really good. and sounds really powerful. but to me, she represents the thing i can’t stand the most: selfish ambition disguised as service.

i thought yesterday was a great day. and it was. but her presence had an unexpected and unconscious impact on my spirit. and while i’ve gained strength in many ways, i am still very fragile in others. i’m in recovery for a lot of things. comparison is one of them.

and the truth is i don’t really know her. she is just another human who’s trying to figure out life. and i know she’s worked hard and sacrificed a lot to get to where she is. but it feels like she’s winning. and in this moment it makes me feel like i’m losing.

there are some days where i feel like i’m on the right path. and i know that i am. and there are days where it all feels like it’s too much. and there are days that make me wonder if it’s worth it. there are days that make me wonder if we’re making a difference at all. and there are days where this all makes sense. and there are days that i have no idea what’s going on or what any of this means. and there are days where i encounter something or someone that makes me want to go back to my old life.

it’s hard to be in the world and not conform to it. it’s hard to do things differently. to do them with integrity. it’s hard to get up every day and pour into a mission you believe in. it’s hard to keep going when you don’t see the results you want to see. it’s hard to have the restraint to stay disciplined and stay in your lane. it’s hard to be in space with people who trigger you and not judge them. it’s hard to love who you are and not want to change yourself. it’s hard to trust God. it’s hard to keep believing. it’s hard to live by faith. it’s hard to not know how it’s all going to work out.

it is so unbelievably uncomfortable to write this out loud. and to publish this on the internet for anyone to see. but i am in practice of not caring what you all think. i am a recovering people pleaser. i am in practice of living a naked and unashamed life. i am a recovering performer. i am in practice of writing the truth of my story out loud. i am in recovery of thinking that my story doesn’t matter. i am in practice of not waiting to document the journey when it’s done, pretty and inspiring. i am in recovery of hiding the messy middle. the process of becoming is very painful. and i wish more people would tell the truth about it. so i’ve decided i will. no matter how insane it feels or what it looks like.

i’ve finally calmed down. the tears have stopped. i think i got it all out, whatever that was. two scriptures flowed through while i was in the air:

be still and know that i am God

and faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

i was reminded of a prayer i prayed a couple days ago, God use me. i audibly laughed out loud. our interpretations of that statement are not always aligned. my prayers continue to be answered. it’s just not what i always think it’s going to look like.

today, i got to spend time alone reflecting. i wrote this story which is my deep work for the day. i had my headphones on and got to escape in the clouds for the day. and i got my coffee and treats sitting in 22A.

cheers to climbing cringe mountain.

sending u so much love,

m