Hmmmm

"What is right can never be impossible."
                                           Lord Mansfield in the movie Belle

What's in a Name?

There are only two of us left, my daughter and I. The last of the Stark family. The last of this Stark family. My name-bearer brother went home to be with the Lord almost five years ago. But that’s no reason to let our name pass away with him. This has been my name for lo these many years and even when I’m married to the greatest of men, I plan to keep it. So, I will be Stark-Whathisname. 

You see, I like my last name. They tell me its origin is German and that it means “strong”. What’s not to like? In English it is an adjective that means forbiddingly bare and plain, unambiguous and harsh, complete, without clothes, and rigid. As an adverb it means utterly, to the utmost degree. I like those definitions too, as I have been all of them at one time or the other in my life.  Like today, I’m feeling utterly and to the utmost degree. Yes I am.

Friends have teased me about my name. One in particular calls me Stark Ravin’. She tells the truth. I can rave about one something or the other on a regular basis. But she never adds the final tag -- “Mad" --  so I don’t believe that she thinks I’m altogether cray. That’s a good thing.

Those who have really wanted to get under my skin have called me Stark Naked, pun intended. I’m no  prude, don’t mind being disrobed for a doctor, masseuse or a lover, but otherwise I really don’t like people talking under my clothes, thank you very much. So while I am utterly, complete and unambiguous, the without clothes things doesn't set well with me; especially not in mixed company.

Most people add an “s” to my name, attempting to identify me, along with them, as the property of the Stark’s plantation. While my family probably was owned by ole man Stark -- after all, I am a Black American -- my ancestors dropped the “s” for obvious reasons: Y’all don’t own me no mo’. Hence, I correct anyone who misspells or mispronounces it -- S t a r k, no “s” on the end, thank you very much.

Now this may have cost me some extended family because most Starks are, well Starks, not Stark (naked and utterly ravin’). But some of my could-be-cousins still embrace me as such (shout out to Tim and Marva) because they get it: I can drop the “s” and still be in the bloodline. Come on somebody.

And if this sounds like a rant to you, so be it. After all, we’re talking about my identity here. All that said, I’ve decided to keep my name until God takes me out of the earth. After all, it’s a good name because He, knowing I’d be born for such a time as this, gave it to me via my parents. When He takes me Home, I’ll return it to Him all wrapped up in a pretty pink package with a big silver and gold bow and a beautiful handwritten note that says With Love to You, from Your Daughter, The Strong, Forbiddingly Bare and Plain, Unambiguous and Harsh, Complete, Without Clothes, Rigid, Utterly, To the Utmost Degree, Karen the Stark.

Needed a laugh today, 

Karen 

The Truth You Know

I really do believe that all things work together for my good. I believe that God has gotten me to the point where that is not just The Truth, but MyTruth. And like it says, the truth that you know will make you free. That is to say, it will liberate you from all the things that pose as truth – facts, experiences, advice, tweets – but bind you. All the shoulda, woulda, coulda stuff. That is not to say that we should be in denial about the consequences we may have to work through because of past decisions. But the bondage and limitations that come alongside a mistake, error or misstep, that’s the stuff crazy is made of! That’s the stuff we must absolutely be MadeFree from.

Getting to MadeFree is not the easiest trip. Looking your belief system square in the face and discovering that most of it is somebody else’s stuff; traversing the cycle of grief that ensues after the loss of ‘innocence’; forgiving yourself and Them; resolving that even if you don’t know what to do next, you ain’t doing that anymore; and all those stops in between make for an arduous excursion that feels like it will never end. Worst part is, it’s a trip we have to take more than once in a lifetime. And no matter how familiar it is, each time is every bit as challenging as the first time. Yet it’s the only trip worth taking over and over again.

Because each and every time you get to MadeFree, you discover a more robust, whole and ready You. And who doesn’t want to be There? 

Nothing missing, nothing broken,

Karen 

Well Said

"Pray. Prepare. Proceed."    

  Judith Jamison, Artistic Director Emerita, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

Declaration

I could never have been a spy or a black ops or counter-terrorism agent. For too many reasons, I know I'm not cut out for that kind of work. But oh how I appreciate the training and commitment and focus it takes to do it.

That said, amongst my touchstone movies is the Bourne series -- Identity, Supremacy, Ultimatum, Legacy. The movies, not the books. I need the visual. Need to see him and rewind and see him and rewind and see him do the doggone thing (with the magazine, book, towel, ink pen, vodka, blind cords....I digress)! Of course, I know that the writers take poetic license with the action, but umph!    I love it.

I'm not sure if I'm more inclined to watch when I'm focused and flowing or when I'm way off course. Doesn't matter. All I know is that when I do, watching Bourne getting to the heart of the matter, exposing and defeating the real enemy, surviving the hits and getting his whole life back, I am affirmed afresh.

Yesterday, the declaration he made in the Bourne Identity leaped off the screen and hit me my hallelujah place:  "I'm on my own side now."  

There. I said it.

Karen

Change Your Mind

It really doesn’t matter if you’ve thought that way all your life; whether you trained yourself to think that way or were indoctrinated by your family, friends, educators, church. It’s time to change your mind. Why? 

Because your old mind is not ready for your new life. 

Even if the way you used to do things worked. You had it right then. Got the desired results. Why ain’t it working now? Maybe the way you've always thought kept you on track, kept you sane, as it were. 

But if your thinking is starting to drive you crazy, it’s time to change your mind.

If you were taking a medication that used to work but wasn't as effective as before, wouldn’t you get to the doctor post haste? You have taken it every day as prescribed and have for years, but you just don’t get the results. You’ve tried to reason it away and say that it’s the weather, your eating habits, stress. But you know the stuff ain’t working. You need a new prescription. A change. You don’t really feel like going through the doctor’s checklist and follow up visits and the blood draws and the temporary adjustments until the prescription is just right again. But you did it before, gladly. Anything to be well.

Doesn’t your mind deserve the same…care? 

Granted, no tiny pill will help with a mind change, unless the problem is chemical-clinical. (Is it?) There will be some trial and error. It will take some discipline. It will take some accountability, to yourself (daily journaling?), or perhaps to a trustworthy someone else. And it will take some time. Some changes in behavior will also be in order. Maybe you need to put the word “no” back into your vocabulary. Or the word “yes”. It may mean speaking up instead of being quiet. Or being quiet when you're bursting at the seams. 

It may mean writing your new affirmation-declaration out and reciting it every single day to stop the voices in your head – the old ones – from dragging you down into the pit. 

Whatever it takes, it’s time for a change. 

Old thinking cannot create a new life.

Change your mind.

That goes for me, too,
Karen 

Handle with Care

Dear Ferguson, Missouri:

Every news report draws from my heart to my lips a new prayer for you. Today all I could utter was “Lord, help.” 

As a mother, I understand the grief that justice will only begin to relieve. As a Black American, I know  racism at a cellular level. As a Boomer I remember how neighborhoods burned after Dr. King's assassination. I occasionally drive through some that have never recovered from that explosion-implosion. As a citizen of the world, I have been bullied and stolen from; I have fought back, run away, called the law. Most of the servant-protectors have treated me with great respect; others responded with an inordinate, palpable contempt even though I was not the perpetrator. I have been very grateful for and to the good ones and have prayed out loud to diffuse the provocation of those who were hell bent on using me to make their day. 

As a writer, I need to say my say, but my say is no revelation: the Ferguson PD's press conference was too many days late and multiplied dollars too short. Because it was, there is no quick-easy route to restoration, redemption. This thing has to play all the way out.  How I wish it was not so.

That said, I think I now know what to pray: that no more lives are lost in Ferguson; that wise, humble, honest, courageous and just leaders rise up and do the next right thing. And the next right thing. And the next right thing for as long as it takes to heal their land. I will pray for Michael Brown’s family, but especially for his mother, that she will be comforted in her mourning. I will pray that none who advocate for her forgets that hers is the greatest loss of all. And I will pray that she is not exploited by anyone else's agenda, but that she will be handled with care. With great, great care.  

Sincerely,
Karen Stark