What Would Maya Do?

Sometimes, in this wonderfully bumpy journey called life; it isn’t enough to inhabit our own skin.
Or rather, it’s too much.

We need some help.

Help keeping our faith. Help pushing our worn out, sad, beat up butts back on the playing field. What we need is assistance from the greats that came before us, whose battle weary eyes have seen everything.

They know stuff. They be wise.

Maybe it was a favorite teacher that you admired or perhaps it was your grandfather, who took you under his wing. Firm but fair.

If they were in a jam- what would they do?

You could turn to them for guidance, perhaps, even for a brief moment, inhabit their skin, standing taller and looking at the situation with their accrued strength, wisdom and grace.

At the Wednesday women’s group, our conversation led to the passing, that day, of Maya Angelou. We were all deeply affected. More than we would have expected. It just felt to us, that Maya Angelou would always share the planet with us….breathe the same air.

It’s been a weepy kind of week, so with her loss, the tears that welled up felt justified in their appearance. Much more so than all the other mundane shit we’d all been crying about. 

Some of us had read her books, others were just familiar with her poetry.
What we all agreed on, was her stature as she walked through this amazing life.
Not only the fact that she was six feet tall; but her grace and dignity, her sense of humor, her courage and most of all; her God-damn gravitas.

I’m sure her BS detector was especially fine tuned.
She didn’t suffer fools and I bet she didn’t take ANY shit….from ANYBODY.

I’m talkin’ to you, Oprah.

Sure, she made mistakes, but she learned, wrote about them, and was the better for it.

We all decided that when life threw us a curveball, or when we were in an emotional tornado, and needed to feel empowered; we’d ask ourselves: 
What Would Maya Do?

It made us laugh-and then we got quiet.
I think it’s now our secret password.
Shhhhhhhhhh. Don’t tell anyone.

I have a small collection of rose quartz hearts from our winter solstice meditations, so this morning, I decided to write What Would Maya Do? on one side and her quote “I Am Enough” on the other.
I’m going to give them to my women to carry around as a reminder, you know, in case they forget the password. It looks like the marker is going to wear off immediately. Maybe reaching into a pocket and feeling that little heart shaped stone will be enough to remember.

Nope.

She wouldn’t fuck around.

I have to find a more permanent marker that stays on stone.
I know that’s what Maya would do.

Who do you have as your “go to” person? Who would you ask?

Xox