Cannabis & Coffee Chronicles #1

It's been some time since I last laid down an entry. I am awake, focused, and motivated. For what? Just... to live. To thrive another day without worrying about what I missed or got wrong the day before, but to do better than the day before. Learn from the past to understand and live in the present in order to influence and change the future. That's my motto for the day.

Right now I am sipping on a Starbucks Blonde Roast flavored with french vanilla creamer. I just smoked a hefty joint; a mixture of Matterhorn and Cherry Diesel. Quite the pleasant aroma and feeling I get once smoked. I've minimized my coffee intake as of late, but they need to drink more water is an issue I am yet to address. I have begun to do more herbal teas yet the body's need for pure water is of the essence. I suppose I didn't get the urgency in the memo, yet my body is definitely telling me, "Bro, GIVE ME SOME F***ING WATER...". I'll listen today. And tomorrow. And the next. Just do it.

This is my morning practice, this journaling. I often beat myself up for not being more physically active in the mornings such as in doing my meditation and yoga practice. I usually do it at some point of the day and I think that matters more than anything. As aforementioned, just do it. When the feeling, the mood and the urgency occur, at any given moment, just do it.

Weed is my wake-up call. It is also my mid-day balancer. It then becomes my caffeine boost at 4:20 PM. Last but not least as the evening encroaches upon me, I take to the CBD flower to rest my body and allow me to ease into dreamland once I am ready to call it a day. It sustains me in a way that I never thought of directly because after doing it for over half of my life, literally, well, it became just a habit. One that once played out as more of an addiction than anything. It is where that word addiction even became a thought in my head. "Am I an addict? Of course not, that is impossible..." I'd think to myself. Years later I would learn better and take care of the demon known as addiction.

I have been able to treat cannabis as the spiritual, mental, and physical healer, enhancer, and support system that it is because of the very fact that I was willing to think, talk and finally write about it based on my experiences throughout the years. I treat it as a supplement to all that I do. It is even a muse for me at times.

"The Munchies" are not even a factor. I can eat with or without but one must admit the delicious extra-ness that takes place when under the influence can be nothing short of marvelous. When I was a wee lad growing up in the hood, I remember that feeling of satisfaction, almost like, as Stewie Griffin says in a Family Guy episode, a mouth orgasm. Delectable was the dinner that I ate when I was high as a damn kite, coming home stoned from Sonny's place after chilling with Brandon, James, and some of the homies from around the way. Mommy had a plate all ready for me, sitting in the oven covered. I'd stroll in hoping she didn't smell anything that faintly resembled the chronic I'd smoked hours earlier. See back then I could smoke a blunt with three or four friends off of a nickel or dime bag of some hydro or skunk and be lit for hours. The good ol days.

My mother would greet me in the kitchen, calm, cool, and collected. Hell, I wondered if she was high at some point. Of course, that was a hard HELL NO, but still, the thought crossed my mind. I would get my plate, warm it up, and sit down to ingest the wholesome goodness that mommy prepared, all the while sitting at the table with me, talking to me about the day and such. I'd respond in between bites, hardly ever lifting my head and meeting her with my eyes. Couldn't chance her seeing my bloodshot eyes. Boy please, too late. She'd often have this soft grin and playful, teasing approach to her demeanor whenever we talked over my dinner after I'd been out puffing the herbal essences. We'd laugh, or I'd laugh and make jokes at things which in return made her laugh with glee. Man that woman knew I was f***ing ripped! She confessed as much years later

I asked her why she didn't ground me or get upset or worse yet, wasn't scared for my safety considering all of the horrible things we learned in school about cannabis consumption. She said, "I wasn't too worried about you going in the wrong direction; you were a good kid. If you were going to be late, past curfew, you called; And you got good grades, why mess that up?". I was amazed at my mother's openness at times. She was able to tolerate many things. She'd sure as hell discipline me if I dared verbally disrespect an elder, grandma, or an important authority figure. Yet she could tolerate me smoking weed and wandering about the city we lived in. Ok, fair enough.

She always give me the soundest advice though when I was out and about:

-Don't wear your hoodie up on your head if it isn't raining or cold (yep, years before the Trayvon Martin murder tragedy)

-Carry your school or state ID at all times

-If a cop stops you, say yes ma'am or yes sir and do not put your hands in your pocket; know your phone number, address, and grandmas number by heart (I knew ALL of my family member's numbers by heart)

-Pull ya britches up; there are no thugs in this house

I'd say that is sound advice from a mother. And more specifically, a mother of color A.K.A. an American black mother. Nuff said.

Life is great. I can look back and I am inspired by the graciousness of what life has already offered me and what is being placed before me now. This is a tough time to live depending on where in the world you are destined to inhabit at this moment. I often say, "Even when things are bad, my life is STILL a good life..." It puts things into perspective for me and allows me to offer thanks to the universe and to the luck that has been bestowed upon me in my life. And when I do this consistently, the abundance continues to steadily flow, and always in the right amount.

Cannabis speaks to my very being. I love the conversations that we can have. We're bonded and bong'ed for life LOL. "I need my weed".

A true friend indeed...