Book Signing

This month my first two literary children are going to be born. Though I often joke around about giving birth to twins, the two couldn’t be any more different in nature. The first one, Housekeeping for the Soul, a nonfiction guide to self-renewal, is written in the same voice as my blog posts, while the second one, The Book of Obeah, is a novel of paranormal suspense.

Since many of you have been following this journey from the start and have asked to be notified when the ‘big day’ would finally come, I am happy and proud to announce (seriously, I am floating about an inch over the floor even as I write this) the official birth of the first twin, Housekeeping for the Soul.

The sweet bundle of joy is due to see the light of the world next Saturday, May 8 between 1:00 pm and 3:00 pm at the Barnes & Noble at The Streets at Southpoint in Durham, NC.

Though it is not officially released, I just found out this morning that the second twin, The Book of Obeah, is already stocked at the warehouse as well. It is probably not going to be on the shelves yet, but if you are coming, and you are interested in getting a copy ahead of the official release date, please do call the store a few days prior to the event, and they will have it there waiting for you when you arrive.

Thank you so much for your ongoing support, everybody, and I hope to see many of you next Saturday afternoon.

Blessings,

Sandra


www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

School for the Soul

"God allows us to experience the low points in life in order to teach us lessons we would not learn in any other way. The way we learn these lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them." ~ Stanley Lindquist


To the joy of most children on a traditional school calendar, the 2009-2010 scholastic year is, once again, drawing to an end. In five and a half more weeks, according to one of my sons, ‘jail will let out.’ That mere comment, happily uttered while standing in front of the calendar counting remaining ‘jail’ days, made me smile.

I asked Michael what he meant by ‘jail life’ at school, and he looked at me with a wide-open, deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face; to his child-mind I had asked the unthinkable. "Why Mom," he said speaking a tad slower as one would do in front of a mentally challenged audience, "I know school is important, but you can’t do anything fun there. And, most of the time, even if teachers get things wrong, you can’t even speak up to say what’s really happening, because that’s considered talking back. And last but not least, there is all this work we always have to do! There just isn’t any time left for being a kid."

I thought for a moment about Michael’s description, and I asked him: "If your teachers didn’t have expectations, and no work was required, if you were never allowed to fail anything or run into conflicts with other kids, school would be more fun, but would you learn anything?"

Michael became silent for a moment, then he looked at me and raised his eyebrow. "Well, I guess not too much. It’s great to have fun all the time, but it doesn’t teach you much, does it?" I gloated inside, careful not to show him how satisfied I was that I had finally won an argument against the teenage genius mind, and I simply smiled at him as he walked away from the calendar and back toward the stairs to go up to his room. This exchange led me to think about life in general, and how wonderful it would be if all could be roses; but if everything was always simple, work and hardship were never an issue, and conflict didn’t exist, would we really learn anything about ourselves and others?

Hardship is often the quickest pathway to learning of our own strengths and weaknesses, and the best gauge to measure our resilience. It is through struggle that we discover we can go the extra mile, and through a bruised ego that we understand what matters most.

While listening to a memorial service a few nights ago, one of the most important things I left with was that our spirit wasn’t born with our body – it is timeless, birthless, deathless, and only using the physical body to learn from our experiences in this world. A life with no challenging experiences would be like a classroom without teachers and curriculums; it would be a fun ride, but in the end we would walk away with nothing learned and little to tell.

A day in school allows children to put in several hours of work and structure, and still gives them a bit of time for recreation and social contact; their time is used to learn and become functional individuals. Life is no different: we are born, learn from other teachers, get punished if we do wrong and rewarded if we do well, and all throughout we enjoy bits of recreational time to relieve the pressure of the challenges leading to our learning. Happy, prosperous and easy-going spells are our well-deserved summer breaks. It might take us a little longer to graduate, but the benefits of our experiences will reach all the way to the soul.

Crossroads (repost)

“At the Crossroads of Life did he stand, upon the very spot where North met South, where East became West...But there was confusion within his heart as to the direction he should travel.” ~Author Unknown

Elegba is one of the religious figures I hold dearest to my heart. Otherwise known as St. Michael in other systems of belief, he is revered as the keeper of doors and crossroads. In the colorful pantheon of the Orishas (God’s aides in the Yoruba tradition), Elegba is depicted as a jolly old man bearing a cane and a straw hat, willing to show the wandering traveler the blessings at the end of each path in exchange for a few coins, a cigar or a sip of hard liquor.

Crossroads always resonate powerfully with me, probably because as humans we are ever confused as to what path is best to take on our journeys. We are, for the most part, blind to all that exists at the end of each roadway, and are often equally fearful and excited to discover what’s on the other side.

As we face the unknown – more so if the obvious appears ominous – we wish and fear tomorrow with the same fiery passion. We are anxious to let go of fear, and we eagerly anticipate our meeting with that which we dread as it puts us one step ahead toward freedom; yet, tomorrow is but a question mark and a part of us wishes we could postpone whatever it will bring forever.

Safely traversing a crossroad requires that we let go of our fears and hang on to our faith. The future is indeed a blank canvas, but as such it can be colored in the vibrant hues of hope. Although we are nudged by our human nature to expect the worst, when we stand in front of a major crossroad faith must take our hand and lead us to the other side. Else, we remain paralyzed and unable to move forward, frozen in place by fear.

At each crossroad, only one path is the right one for us at that specific moment – if we are willing to listen, our heart knows which way to go. Once we are ready to let go of our illusion of control, and are willing to allow destiny to unfold as it must, acceptance becomes our island of peace in the storm.

The next time you approach a crossroad, silently acknowledge Elegba being there and if you so feel inclined, leave him a coin and ask him to guide you safely across. The rest will be up to God.