Language

Language defines those that use it. 

Language is a major component of identity and a cultural determinant. 

Our individual use of language is a combination of the legacy we inherit from our ancestors and the communities that we inhabit today.

Our group use of language marks our groups and territories in a war-like manner, saying 'this is who we are (as we see us), this is who you are (as we see you)'.

Sticks

and stones

 may break my

bones but names will

never hurt me – a childhood lie

that does not die because language creates

small words and large systems that grow into huge

pervasive organisms of destruction and discrimination. The

 pyramid of falsehood will continue to grow and the foundation will

widen under the pressure of the lie that is not challenged or made to die.

Marjorie Morgan Ó June 07

Racism surfaced during the slave trade: the idea of white superiority and inequality was encouraged by slavery.  Negative stereotypes and offensive language were used to support the idea of African inferiority in the world. 

This legacy still exists today.

Identity Warrior

Being me means I am an identity warrior!

I have fought for my identity and I’m keeping it. If that means I have to keep on fighting, then I will.

I cannot be someone I am not. I cannot be someone others would prefer me to be.

I can only be the me that I truly am – each day. I may be different each day, but that is me changing myself and growing into my potential.

My life is not a candidate for a TV makeover show. Neither am I looking for a personal shopper that brings ready designed and fitted identities: I have my own identity that is tailor made to fit me, by me.

It is not always a fight each day; I am not a salmon battling upstream. I am not exhausted being me – I love it! The only time I get tired is when others try to change me into the ‘me’ they want to see, only then does it seem like a battle. I am happy being me. Thanks anyway, y’all!

Today I am giving myself a pat on the back for ... being me. I am standing true to myself and I believe in me. Sometimes I forget just how much guts it takes to be myself. Each moment I achieve self-validation I grow stronger in my self belief.

To me (right now) believing in myself is something big and great. That’s how it should always be.

Internal Journeys

I know that some of the most difficult journeys I have ever taken have been in my heart and mind. And some of the most glorious journeys have taken place in the same arena. This blog has been a witness to a small portion of those excursions, especially over the past year. I have been writing my thoughts and dreams down since I was a child. I still have the diaries that I wrote in as I tentatively entered into my teenage years.

A major change happened in my life just over four years ago. December 2006 was the start of immense joy in my life. Everything in my life changed almost overnight. The impact of this external life alteration did not bring quiet reflection and an enduring residual calmness, instead there was a chain reaction of activity as I chose to instigate some long-overdue changes in my internal life as well; I wanted symmetry of movement internally and externally. Subsequently it was in August 2007 that another great shift occurred. Sometimes the changes that we go through can disturb us enough so that we never settle back into a listless existence: this happened to me. There was no way that I would ever want to – or be able to – return to the flat existence I had before.

So, there I am three and a half years ago reawakening my dreams. The dreams that had lain dormant for over a decade.

This was the start of another internal journey.

If this were a sea voyage I would say that the waves have been tossing the ship from side to side but there has never been any chance that disaster would strike. As the main occupant I have got wet many times as I tried to be Jonah-like and run away from my destiny, however, this was not to be. I am glad that I faced my fears and realised that as long as I continued to do my best as a parent and remembered to really follow my dreams I would be all right.

When I first decided to put some of my thoughts into a blog I had just let someone precious slip away, but there was nothing I could do about that then. I didn’t see the future but, regardless of that, I could not alter my choice at that time, I would just wish for a different outcome. In an attempt to heal myself from that intense loss I decided to return to a tried and tested method of reflection: I decided to write – to myself – about how I was really feeling and what I was thinking. This has become my online journal. It is better than any pill in a small brown bottle. This exposure of my thoughts has been a lifeline to me.

Sometimes this blog was not enough for me and I resorted to good old-fashioned pen and paper: they still hold an intense magic for me. I had to leave this space for a while but when I returned I felt stronger. This wonderfully intense journey has continued here for a long while now with nearly 300 posts in the last year. I have even started other spaces where I also write about the joy in my life. I am continually amazed at the many great experiences I am having and I know that this journey is only going to get better.

This is not a journal of Gulliver’s travels, it is a partial peek into my life; this is a bit of the internal journey of Marjorie Morgan. Welcome aboard the next leg of the voyage!

To be known …

Taken from a secret source …

‘My biggest fear and my biggest desire are the two sides of a single coin: to be known. I know it is life changing to want these things. I need my life to change. I guess that’s what frightens me so much. That’s what makes me sit and do nothing or do so much that I have no time to think about what I really want.

I met someone recently, well I knew them a long time ago, but I started to get to know them only recently. With them I have the sense of freedom that I usually get only when I’m alone. You know, those quiet moments when your mind is completely open and honesty is the only emotion that holds reign. Anyway, I felt afraid when I first opened up to them, but also a sense of unbound joy! I felt like I was flying without a parachute because I didn’t need one – a safe landing was guaranteed.

There was this intense feeling of happiness at releasing my thoughts without censoring them. Especially the thoughts that I had held in my heart for years, the ones that had kept me alive and the ones that put vital distance between me and death. Those thoughts. My dark thoughts. The ones where I think the worst things about, seemingly, the best people.

Then one day I dared to speak some of this hidden part of myself to you. You know who you are, I don’t need to name you here and now. I started speaking and carried on at breakneck speed because I was afraid that if I stopped I’d never start again. I didn’t dare to look at you for the first plunge into the truth pool, but when I paused to take that vital breath essential for continuation, I noticed that you were actually listening to me. Really paying attention, not just to my words but also to all of me. I felt it. I sensed the genuine interest. It unbalanced me although it was exactly what I’d been hoping for.
(I’d been searching and finding imitations for a long while, so when I happened upon the real article, I was suspended into a state of shock. For ages I could not understand if it was a game to you, or if you really liked me and wanted to be my friend. I often felt I was in a dream, but I was awake and you were there – because you chose to be, again and again. I’d ask myself what were you getting from this contact that made it worthwhile for you. My life and actions were set out like an accountant’s profit and loss book. Sterile and precise. You still came back to me and looked right into me. Your eyes never lied.)

It had come to a point where I just needed to be with you. To know you in my life and most of all, for my sanity, to have you know me. I decided that day that I wanted to be known by you. So I decided to spill some of my heart.

I guess it was a kind of test. To see if you would balk at my revelations. Show disgust and remove yourself from the circle of my life. I wanted to tell you the hidden parts of me. The secrets I’ve been to scared to voice.

I’ve already told you some things, some little pebbles of information compared to the mountainous load I want to spill now. I told you things I was ashamed of and things that I was scared to own but were all mine. You heard me, you breathed normally and carried on with the conversation.

You did not dismiss me and my heavy heart as totally naïve, too sheltered, neither did you label me as an inexperienced fool. My life experience was valued by your true attention.

My response to your reaction to me is laughter, peace, relaxation of my whole self, increased confidence in my voice to speak.’