Thursday, April 7, 2016

An Assignment - Not a Report of My Death! :)
SandraTeresa Davenport was many things to many people. She was grandly Bohemian. She moved about the earth as she pleased. She dressed herself in an easy, colorful fashion, always with a collection of trinkets around her neck and wrists. Her uniform was long, flowing skirts, mostly black with overblouses, shawls and baggy pants. She spoke clearly, with great authority, never leaving room for doubt, never needing encouragement or prodding. Knowing Sandra Davenport had many ‘affects’.

SandraTeresa Davenport was a hell of a woman!

She was the third child of six born to Claude and Ethel Davenport. She constantly sought her place, her voice, her standing in the group. She was also seeking her place in the world, on this earth.
Sandra was ‘born in a female body in black skin’. This gave her inner warrior an extra edge. That may account for her formidable brain power: a trait she shared with all her siblings. Brilliance.
Birthplace - Clarkesville, GA
The word Edgy is one of the first words that come to mind when thinking about Sandra. She had a talent for putting even the bravest men, smartest women and most likeable liberal racists on edge. And she used it so well.
When this trait was mixed with her edginess, quick wit and beautiful smile, SandraTeresa Davenport became a walking/talking braniac demon—something to fear, to dread, and to befriend, if allowed. She was a wonderful friend. Her favorite thing was gifting. She loved Tea and many people here now have something Tea-related that Sandra gave them. She was very generous, in every way. Time, talents, opinions, all unsolicited, correct, and freely given. :)    
Her natural leaning towards helping people lead her to alternative health and healing. She never failed to consult on which herbs to use for which ailment, where it grew and how long it lasts.
Her family size and standing pushed Sandra to find and develop her natural talents. She was a gifted speaker and writer. She laughed often, loud and easily! Her laughter was like notes of joy randomly dancing through the air.
Sandra learned to dance listening to Smokey Robinson sing ‘Shop Around.’ In that year, she was six years old. She knew then, that she loved music, dancing, and, Smokey Robinson. She never gave him up and she never stopped dancing. Another thing she always said, “Before yawl pronounce me as surely dead, play something by James Brown. If I don’t start dancing, I’m dead.  [That's why you hear him singing right now.]
She was pretty—without makeup and always smiling, even when she was causing somebody to quiver, quake and pray out loud. But San was like that.
You are here today because you experienced some of the above described ‘affects’ of knowing SandraTeresa Davenport. 
 Sandra was also often heard to admonish us, “don’t cry for me if I leave here before you do’. I ask you, how would we not cry? How would we not despair? Who, now, will fill in the gaps in what we think we know about religion? Who will be first on the floor when Motown oldies come on?  No more SandraTeresa Davenport? No more easy and quick answers to questions about alternative health and medicine?

Although seminary-educated and ordained, she espoused no traditional religion, cursed many of them and dutifully avoided all of them. She did, however move in large, definite strides toward and into metaphysics. She never doubted the truth of reincarnation. She marveled to think of the growth of the spirit, from one lifetime to the next and the next. Today, she is stepping up to her beliefs and understandings. She is rising to that great unknown now she knows. All her questions have been answered and she continues to rise. She left this old world much healthier than she found it. She left it more light-hearted. She likely is encouraging us all always to LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways! Amen.


Wednesday, April 6, 2016

For the record, I was never a good employee.

There is somebody somewhere who will agree but today, I honestly do not care.

Wearing a Name Tag. Wow.
Work was always a thing that I had to do if I wanted to survive. I can honestly say that out of the numerous jobs that I've had, I have enjoyed maybe 3. I really enjoyed teaching third grade at a charter school and Phoenix Arizona, but I hated detested and despised the administration

Work was also difficult for me was that I had to be supervised by somebody most of the time. Generally, the somebody supervising me was far less intelligent, less adept and/or experienced in what we were doing but somehow or another, they still had that position of Supervisor over me.

Areas of my employment include: 
  • Animal care
  • Civil service [state and federal]
  • Corrections
  • Education
  • Finance/Insurance 
  • Law
  • Non-profit
  • Publication
  • Retail


Best Supervisors was the retired Navy Commander, followed by Yvette at the Alabama Department of Public Service. Others were tolerable and more-or-less friendly but I won’t bother you with any more names.

I worked in law firms in Atlanta, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Beverly Hills, and Washington DC. Law firms are all the same everywhere. There are two things I loved about the law firms. First, every Friday we had happy hour. Somebody brought a whole lot of beer and all kinds of finger foods and things like that. Those of who wanted to gathered in the large conference room and just sat around drinking beer and eating finger foods. I guess that was supposed to be a morale builder or something like that. I can't say.

The second thing I loved about law firms: they gave holiday bonuses. Once we got a summer bonus one of them gave us an anniversary bonus. Then there was another one which gave us all a gift of an extra pay check on its 50th anniversary.

I really marvel that today, 16 years into the 21st century, people are still advising other people about how to dress for success. People instruct what to say in an interview; how to get along at work; how to navigate the business office culture. This is very disappointing and disheartening. I really thought that by the time today got here, people would be doing something different in the workplace.

I just thought [and hoped] the supervisors would be able to relax and leave people alone and let them do their work. I also thought [and hoped] that people would leave other people alone and let them do their work. It never occurred to me that today women would still go to work and make less money than their husbands for the same job. I never dreamed that there would be so much harassment in the workplace that there would an entire area of law surrounding it [sexual, racial, age-related, sexual orientation]. Wow.

My Dream Job.

Obviously, it’s at home.

The Reverend's Apothecary
Makings of a Great Potion
I am a healer-woman, known by all as the one to call in a crisis. My work utilizes herbs, oils, lotions and potions. I use every part of an herbal plant to make some sort of remedy for some ailment and am paid well. My work is well and widely-known. My offerings may be teas, tinctures, unguents, or they may be culinary preparations with one or the other herb added.  


The tools of my trade are kept in an extensive apothecary. All my herbs are grown outside my house, in a small but thriving garden plot. I wear long dresses with loose-fitted over blouses or baggy cotton or linen slacks. A collection of trinkets adorn my neck and wrists at any time and I enjoy perfect health. I am an Alternative Health Minister!

SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways!

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

I will begin by telling you a great way to avoid disappointment: Follow your own mind. Avoid influencers.


Sometimes a person is so influenced by what someone else wants for them, they forget what they want for themselves.
Influencers always have some ideas, input, direction, suggestions. Ignore them.

Image result for primerica life insurance


Every time I entered into experiences that I wanted for myself, I have always been successful. The one time in my life when I had total disappointment-- complete failure--was when I became a Primerica Financial Services Agent. Wow.
I sat for and passed the first exam. That one was followed by other exams for more licensing. There was one that was supposed to really ‘open lots more doors’ for me. I sat for and failed it four times. After the first time, I had to pay. It was not cheap. Each time I was told it was an investment in my future. Not so. Money lost.
There is no reimbursement for the thousands I spent on gas, food, lodging, parking. Again, money lost.
One must have a market for success in this business. I didn’t have one. I couldn’t create one and I could not get into anyone else’s market. I should have known I was done-for when an entire clan of people cancelled their policies within a week’s time.
Not only that, it was impossible to 'convince' people that life insurance is a financial necessity; not an option. Stupid me. I learned. 
I continued to try and build a market. I continued to drive 45 miles one way to attend two-hour Saturday morning training.  I continued to prospect for new business. I continued to pursue people who I had talked to previously.
I never once thought that I would fail. That is, until I accepted that I had. In five years, I didn't clear $500. Wow. What. A. Shame.
It was 5 years before I convinced myself. I looked at what I had done and not done and realized that it was time for me to stop. I weighed my accomplishments against my expectations and disappointments. Stopping was the only option. I learned a great deal about finance and a great deal about the life insurance business.
There is no way I could consider doing it again nor could I consider recommending it to someone else. I learned enough about it well. I could very easily teach the business to someone else. That would be it.
In my entire life, I never had put so much effort into anything for so long with such desire for success and had greater failure--never.
Failure isn't something that I'm accustomed to. Primerica will always stand out as my biggest failure. I did not succeed. My desire to succeed pushed me to listened to other successful people in the business. I watched what they did and I tried to mimic what I learned. Somehow or another, it simply did not take. For a short while afterwards, I felt a slight bitterness. After that, all I felt was relief.

Lesson:

There also comes a time when you have to weigh your losses against your gains. You simply cannot continue to put yourself into something that's not benefiting you. 
When something fails, you are free to pursue something more fulfilling. Seek success in other areas. Sometimes people will tell you that nothing is easy; people are always telling you don't give up—blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. There comes a time to stop listening to what other people say. That’s that!
SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways!
Listen In Sunday @ 3 EDT



My favorite cup - Today!




Monday, April 4, 2016

The time is 10:21 p.m. And today is Monday April 4, 2016. 

I am a little bit late but thanks to Google Voice typing I am getting this done before bed. Today's challenge is to write about travel. No problem.
I presently live in the house where I grew up. It is in rural Northeast Georgia. I have lived in four states [Alabama, Arizona, California, Indiana] and Washington DC. I have moved across country three times and I have driven across country four; the last time I was alone. I loved it I absolutely loved it.
I drove a thoroughly used BMW [which model I now forget and which I later discovered to have four dry-rotted tires]. There was an impressive sand storm in Eastern Arizona, but I wasn’t afraid.
Driving back to Atlanta that last time, I saw a mountain in El Paso, Texas. That's no surprise. I was just surprised because it springs up all of a sudden, alongside the freeway, in the middle of town! Loved it!
It has been my habit to move to a new place if I wanted to experience it. Taking a trip just wasn’t the same.
Until the first Sunday in April 1985, the furthest west that I had ever driven was Montgomery, Alabama. That day, I along with my sister and her boyfriend, took off on a trip from Atlanta, Georgia to Los Angeles, California [2,072.82 miles]. I was moving again. That was my home for four years and a few months. It was a long drive but we drove all day Sunday and overnight, then Monday afternoon we were in Phoenix, Arizona. I moved there another time, some years later.
I thought we would go through New Orleans but we didn't because New Orleans is off the beaten path. You don't pick up Highway 10 again until Texas.
I learned that Texas has mountains. I was thrilled to see the muddy River which borders Alabama and Mississippi.  I think it's the Mississippi River. Being that I'm writing from memory, I don't want to research it. 
On the westbound freeway through Texas and New Mexico, there are periodical signs posting the distance before water again.
I made this trip west once by Greyhound. The most impressive thing about this trip was being stopped by the Border Patrol in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The officers got on the bus and checked everyone's identification. That was a completely weird/scary experience. The weird/scary experience was seeing border patrol officers in New Mexico, Arizona and Texas, just like you would see ordinary police officers anyplace else.
Travel has always been a lot of fun for me. I am restless by Nature and I love new adventures. As a matter of fact, I have been feeling extremely restless here recently. I calmed myself down by deciding that I would not move out of the state of Georgia again. I would just take trips instead.
As soon as I have completed all of the tasks assigned to me for this blog challenge, I taking off on a road trip. I'm going to places that I've never been before or places I have been but didn’t spend much time. I will begin with Asheville, North Carolina; then I'm going to the coast. Another time I’ll to Charleston; drive up the coast a little ways, eventually working my way to Baltimore [where my sister lives]. Then on another trip, I'm going to Boston. There I will visit the Howard Thurman Museum at Boston University. At some point between now and the middle of the summer, I’ll visit my relatives in Fort Wayne, Indiana. So that is the end of my blog about travel. I highly recommend it.
On my other list of places to see: the Chicago railyards, St. Louis Arch, Rocky Mountains, a Ranch in Montana!
NOTE: I will eventually write books about i] all the places I’ve lived; ii] I’ve rented] iii] jobs I’ve had and maybe even the iv] great books and stuff I’ve lost in the midst of it all.
SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways! 





Image result for ame communion service

The sacrament of communion is observed the first Sunday of every month Protestant/Denominational Christian churches,  I will share with my memories, my learning and my own ideas of what communion would be like in my 'church,' if I had one.

Everybody dresses in a certain type of outfit for communion: White [I think of it as a costume]. The adult women wear white inside-out, head-to-toe, even their earrings. I know because I've seen it and—yes—I have even done it myself. There is an altar or table on the floor right in front of the pulpit, covered in white. The males in leadership wear their absolute best black suit and white gloves.

Why does everybody have to wear white?

In spite of all the time I spent in the seminary listening to people talk about these things, I still don't know. I believe it to be--I would suspect it to be--that the purpose of communion is to rededicate and reconsecrate oneself to Jesus Christ. In order to do this one must be as pure--or at least present themselves--as possible. Jesus probably knows just how pure anyone is at any time. I doubt it matters to Jesus what anybody wears. They don’t look at this way in Protestant churches; certainly not. I can only speak of African-American denominations, because these I know--right well.
So, communion service is added after the regular service, most often. Regular service by itself is long enough but after communion, it can add another hour to hour and a half depending on the size of the congregation to be served.
Image result for ame communion service
This is How We Do It!

How is communion served?

There are several options. Sometimes the ushers bring the ‘wine and bread/body and blood’ to the congregation. What actually is served to the congregation is grape juice and Wafers. Some congregations use crumbled up saltine crackers, depending on size and affluence of the congregation.

Why Every First Sunday?

Again, I don’t know. I have no idea. The more I thought about it, the more I decided it was a very ghastly thing to do. Drink the blood and eat the flesh of another? Especially one who has ‘saved’ you? No. It’s not the same as eating a piece of chicken.

My Memories 

The male ushers walk down between the pews carrying the little metal container with the little teeny tiny quarter ounce cups of grape juice. The females come out to the other side with the plate of Wafers or crumpled up saltine crackers. They pass their trays from one end of the pew to the other. Each person takes a little teeny tiny cup and passes the metal tray to the person beside them. Then, each person takes a wafer or a piece of saltine crackers and passes it to the person beside them.
Image result for ame communion service
The Body and The Blood
The second way to do it is for everybody to line up and walk down to the front of the church to a person with the same trays. This way, people just walk down there; get what they need and keep walking. It appears to be a little bit faster.

As these Retire, let Others Come

The final--and surely, longest way--is for congregants to walk down to the altar. They kneel and the presiding Pastor reads a certain scripture. It is necessary to wait until everybody leaves before more people can come so they don't have to do it but once for each group of people. Many churches have altars in the front around the pulpit. This should give you an idea of what we would be doing today if I were a traditional ‘Christian-believing’ preacher but I'm not.

My Gathering

When I accepted the call to Ministry, I knew I would offer and alternative. I am not a Pulpit preacher; I don’t want a congregation and I absolutely will not wear white clothes every Sunday to administer a thing called communion. I did, however, think that at some point I would love to have a congregation. My congregation wouldn't be what we think of as congregations. It wouldn't be a group of deacons and deaconesses, the choir and the mothers’ board, the missions board and all that.

We would just be a group of people gathered to learn an alternative way of looking at what we believe. I have offer an alternative way of learning; an alternative route from what we believe to what we know. I am convinced that once you know something, you don't have to believe [or defend] it anymore. I knew my background and Alternative Health and Wellness would put me slightly aside from the center of anything like a pulpit preacher.

My vision for my church Gathering Room is something like a 1960s coffee shop. We would have had sofas and chairs and small tables throughout the room. A person could sip tea as we talked. Then there would be a section over in the corner for young children to play on the floor with the puzzles or coloring books.

The Opening Song

Don’t get me wrong, my southern African-American upbringing would require a hymn every once in a while. Somehow, however, ‘Blowing In The Wind’ by Stevie Wonder came to my mind first. At some point, I would double back and do a music service, where we simply sing and exegete the hymns and other texts.

You would never hear me preach about sin and salvation. I indeed use the scriptures and many other sacred texts. My communion service would be a non-caffeinated Tea with crumpets.

Our gathering time would be Sunday morning or afternoon. Who knows, it might even be a day other than Sunday.  I wouldn't even force it to be Sunday at 11. Keep an eye open, it could happen any time!

We really need to look into those white costumes, and a whole lot more.

Summary of my blogtalkradio show.

SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways!


Honey Bear in a Cup!

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Image result for images of fear quotesWow how interesting: this challenge comes just one day after a post on Confession. I confessed to afraid. Generally, a Confession is an admission of some ugly thing that one has done. I don’t have any of those stories to tell. I do, however, have this one:
There was a reason why I felt like I should confess to being afraid but even more importantly there's a reason why I don't mind writing about my fears.

I am afraid

I fear many things and circumstance and it's because of what I've seen. The things I've seen up-close-and-personal in my life have frightened me beyond expression. These things have always been there and I've never seen any relief from these things.
“What Things,” you ask?

I was afraid as a child.

I was always afraid of being hit. [Yes, we got whippings.] I have always been afraid of physical violence. I'm even more afraid of physical violence today because I don't have any protection. As a child, I had parents. Later, I had only my mother. After becoming an adult, I suppose I did have the police but...

I have always been afraid of the police.

Why was I afraid of the police?
I was afraid of the police because they could kill me just as easily as they can help me. Not only that, I have always heard stories about the police doing horrible things to people to women particularly black women.
I live in this world in black skin, in a female body, alone. I don't have a spouse. I don't have male children; I don't have any children.
I don't live in a protected environment or a gated community.
I live my life and I move and I come and go and I'm always thinking about this. It is a really terrible way to live.
This is the dual consciousness that W.E.B. DuBois talked about.
I know that I am American but I also know that I am black.
To me, that means the whole world could easily make war against me and no one would stop it; no one could help me. That's a horrible fact to live with.
What follows is a very hard story to tell, but I will tell it anyway. It likely won’t read well but I seem to have some difficulty making it flow any better and I wanted it posted tonight!

No Caption Necessary...

And then last year, 2015, the 3rd of July the day before independence day the Klan had a rally in South Carolina to protest removing the flag and I start to think about what it would be like if the clan had a rally right here in town where I live. What would it be like if I looked out the window later on tonight and I thought the Klan marching up the street from the church at the top of the hill? I had an absolute full-blown panic attack I couldn't even think the only thing I could think was what if what if they decided to come in at a courthouse as they move through the neighborhood. And then what if you wanted that one person came to the front door started breaking and other person came to the back door or through the window it wouldn't take very much for anybody to get into the house where I live and I was thinking about that and I had an absolute panic attack because I don't have anyone to protect myself.

I have no way to protect myself.

Even if I had a way to protect myself, I would have to live with the fact that I killed somebody or hurt somebody. I would also live with a very good possibility that I'd be punished I am NOT inmate material.
So I paced back in forth in the house. I could feel my body changing. I started to feel a different energy surge through my body that I've never felt before.
I tried to lie down but that didn't work.
I then had an overwhelming desire to eat something sweet. I had nothing sweet to eat in the house [sweeter than Honey] and I didn't have any thoughts of leaving the house to get something. So I repeated to myself, ‘you have to calm down’.
Finally I said to myself. ‘Sandra they can only kill you one time,’ then I started to relax.
But that didn't do anything about the Fears that I continued to live with.
This was my clearest and truest experience of how emotions affect appetite. I was overwhelmed with the desire for something sweet!
I eventually calmed myself.
And then it made me so angry to think about how it happened, to know that every 6 months [sometimes less] the white people--through the white police--in a different part of the country take their turn in just incidentally killing black people.
But just the very idea that a white boy could be welcomed into an African-American church and then turn right around and kill the very people who welcomed to him and then the authorities declare that he was insane. Really!?
That's the only reason he would do it? Then he gets off.
Well when the police officer in full charge of his faculties, things does it he's not declared insane. He just simply gets sent home with a warning not to do it again. Before long, he's back at working. His children don't have to live without their father; his siblings without their brother; his parents without their child.
I also live with the fear of oppression. I live with a fear of poverty. I live with the fear of all illness. I don't have a really have a few of old age--that's one of the things that a lot of people talk about. I don't fear old age and infirmity.
Image result for charleston ame massacreIf this post had a CTA, it would be to not perpetrate fear upon people because you have some authority over them; do not deny that you use fear to control others who are different from you. Stop making excuses when you know your people have committed heinous acts of terror and hate and meanness against others. Don’t pretend to be something you are not! Because, if you take a few moments and think honestly, you’ll probably find you are as afraid as I am. So please, don’t bother suggesting ways that I can cope. I’m in the 64th year of doing just that. But...
Someone should want something better!

Sharing My Collection
SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways!







Saturday, April 2, 2016

The time is 7:52 a.m. today is Thursday March 31st.
My name is Sandra Teresa Davenport and I am competent to give this confession.

My Confession: A Post in 621 Words

I am afraid. I am fearful. I am a dreadful malcontent because of this.
It's Just Life in Yet Another Small Town in
Rural NE GA! 


This is a confession because most people who know me think I am fearless. They think I can and will do anything. They think it’s really cool that I’ve lived in four states and DC. Really? Not.

The Truth. The Confession.


I am afraid I realized that just yesterday and now I'm writing about it. How very timely this challenge has been. I want to move out of the house where I live. I want to move out of the area where I live. But I'm afraid to move. I am paralyzed. What makes me afraid? Before I was afraid of living in an apartment complex because that's where the “General population” lived. Well, it’s been 30 years or more since I lived in an apartment complex.

I Am Afraid.

I'm afraid I was afraid to move out of the area because I wasn't sure where I wanted to go. I wanted to move out of the country. I wanted to at least move out of the state. But ... I was afraid to get started. I was afraid because I've moved many times in my life and every time I did I had to regroup. That was always horribly disconcerting. It was so difficult that I couldn't even decide if what I enjoyed was worth the effort that I had to put into doing it.

I'm afraid to give get rid of all my material possessions. Not that there's so much of it, but it is my stuff. I'm afraid to have to get somewhere and not know what to do. What does that mean? Not know anybody. Not know where anything is. Not know how to meet people. Having no relatives there.

Relatives are--in many many cases—overrated, in my opinion,. But they still are relatives and they still make you feel like you belong to something. I'm afraid of feeling like I don't belong to anything or I don't belong anywhere. This feeling has always been my constant companion. This feeling is also often referred to as loneliness

Just yesterday I thought that I should perhaps write all these things down that I'm afraid of, look at them and see if I really am afraid of them. Why would I be afraid to move to the city of Atlanta? It’s only an hour’s drive away and I have done it many times. Why would I be afraid to move to a new apartment in the same area where I live? I've done that before.

I am afraid of failure.

I am afraid of seeing myself as a failure again. I'm a senior citizen now. I'm 64 years old. I'm well educated, in good health all kinds of great things but in fact I am a senior citizen. I don't have a lot of money [but ample]. I am positioning myself to make money and the doing of it has enough excitement to it that I know that it will be worthwhile.

So what happened was I did a simple thing: I went to look at a new apartment and it was so fabulous and I got so excited that I was no longer afraid ... for that moment.

That does not change the fact that I am just too, too fearful and that has got to go. It appears that the cure for fear [as worry] is action!

But, yawl know me by now, if it gets too bad, I’ll just have Tea, and so should you!
I broke this plate! Oh Horrors!

Sincerely,

SandraTeresa Davenport | The Health Reverend
LiveWellToday/DrinkTeaAlways!



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