Phylicia Rashad: “You Are That Splendor”

Thanks to her relationship with our president, Dr. Gina Spivey-Brown, the Phylicia Rashad, who played the role of Claire Huxtable on The Cosby Show (1984-1992) served as my university’s commencement speaker last Friday. I am not exaggerating when I say we were over-excited to hear her speak.

But…

The moment she stood up and approached the microphone, a hush fell on the arena. You could hear a pin drop in a service that is usually filled with sound–shouts, squeals, callouts, air horns. Instead of taking selfies and posting on Instagram, students’ eyes were trained on her. Attuned to the cadence of her voice.

I think many expected Claire Huxtable.

Who they met was Phylicia Rashad—authentic, unscripted, soft, humorous. Through her moments at the microphone, she touched something deep within us and conjured what has been dead for many of us—a humanity deeply rooted in the waters that stretch from Africa to Europe to the Americas. She reminded students, all of us, really, of the “hopes, dreams, wishes, and prayers” of our ancestors that guided us to this point; she reminded us that they still walk with us, not literally but metaphorically, and we must honor that.

Ms. Rashad spoke extemporaneously, inspired by a midnight stroll through our awe-inspiring campus. 

Lyrically. 

Spiritually. 

We were captivated as she wove literature, oral history, and personal anecdotes into a message to the graduates–to all of us.

So much of what she said struck a nerve with me and I’ve already decided I will use one of these quotes to open one of my book projects.

You have everything. You don’t have to go looking for anything. You have it within you. Hold that. Pay attention to that. Believe in that. 

Hold fast to the stillness of midnight in midday. Hold fast to the silence in your own heart in the middle of cacophony. 

“God got beautiful splendors.” — Gem of the Ocean. You are that splendor.

Know your own worlds of being and stay within your own element.

Be true. Be beautiful. Be free. 

Come back to this place often and you will always remember who you are, where you have been, where you have come from, and what is given to you, and who is  walking beside you, behind you, in front of you, and inside you. 

I am not a celebrity hound. We fall in love with the roles actors play, but really don’t know who they are “in real life.” She even remarked on that in her oration:

It’s easy to be the perfect mother when the children are scripted and you’re scripted too. 

Through that comment, she taught us, actors are performers. Human. Fallible. And I’m more interested in that part—connecting with how they are like the rest of us. 

I didn’t vie to get an audience with her or take a selfie–though that was the one request my hubby made as I left home. I quietly sat in the background and observed. I saw a person who thoroughly enjoys being in the room, absorbing the sounds and vibrations into her own skin; who looks deeply into the eyes of each person who speaks with her, who consents enthusiastically to every photo; who has walked this earth as many people and has settled unapologetically into herself.

What I saw was not performance. What I saw was real. Regal. Elegant. Timeless.

I did speak with her. Babbled something. I don’t know what since I was still processing her words. 

Hers was not an urgent speech that inspired listeners to run into the world and change it. It was a speech that invited us to do something more significant—look inward and decide how we will be in that world. 

Something in my spirit quieted. Another thing in it stirred. And I need to sit with it for some time and let Spirit do its work. 

An Open Letter to My Mom | On Rest and Finding My Song

Dear Mama,

I know you are concerned about me. Whenever we talk lately, you mention my busyness and remind me to get rest. I have been listening and trying to heed your counsel. I am finding my way back to rest, not the superficial kind though. Not the simple pause between one workday and the next. Deeper rest. The kind that reaches all the way down into the soul and settles there. The kind where I set everything down. Not only the nine-to-five but the everyday scurrying and hurrying and the soul-wearying mental and emotional clutter that silences the song in my throat.

Perhaps, without realizing it, that’s what you have been reminding me—to not neglect my song.

And there’s something else I’m hearing when you urge me to rest. My rest helps you rest. 

You have spent nearly your entire life working in one way or another. It began when you were just four years old, when you were left alone to watch your infant sister while your mother—my grandmother—ran an errand. You received that instruction and followed it dutifully. I have watched you live that life my whole life: always operating between the lines, never straying, always obedient to what is right and what is good. You have worked hard and tirelessly. To the exhaustion of your mind, your body, and your soul.

When you tell me to rest, it’s because you know exactly what a life looks like without it. Because you knew that life. And because you had two beautiful daughters—mothers also—taken before they could know a life of true rest, before they could set the load down, before they could find their song. Your deepest concern comes from that place of motherly love and protection but also from grief. 

Your worry is valid. I have not rested well lately. Not exactly because of work, but because my mind and soul have been laboring, trying to manage the multiplicity of complicated and tangled things that have made me too exhausted to rest and live in my song.

I have watched you my entire life. Read your prayers scribbled on paper, notes written in the margins of Scripture. And from those pages, I have learned how to walk when the demands of life are heavy. I have learned how to shift the weight, and when to lay it down entirely. 

I have also learned new things: the ache of silent endurance of pain has taught me that silence isn’t always best.

So, I am learning how to speak aloud the things that need to be named, if only to undo their hold on me. I’ve seen enough to know the things we leave unspoken are the things that keep us fettered.

A couple of years ago, you sent a birthday card too late that arrived right on time. I will keep your words to myself [they belong between us], but you reminded me of my purpose and my gifts. I return to that card often, to make sure I do not stay sidetracked too long. 

When I look at my own son, I see a bit of me that I inherited from you—the gift of being unbothered by what does not matter and holding close what does. I am grateful for that.

[By the way, forgive me for the sins of my foolish youth, when I did not value you enough. I am still not sure how you managed to raise such a brat. 😂]

Thank you for pointing me back toward rest and song. I am listening now.

Happy Mother’s Day!

MEDITATION
11:04 MINS

#meditate
#meditatewithme
#spirituality #faith
#spiritualhome #spiritualconnection #energy #love #hope #faithandlove #soulwork

MOVEMENT

Back Arm Stretch 4 Breaths
Each Arm

Forward Arm Twist Both Sides
2 Breaths

MEDITATE

8:04 MINS BREATHING

#breathwork #SaturdaySelfCare #movement #movewithme #SpiritualCare #armstretch #soulwork #energy #spirituality #SelfcareSaturday #breathing

MEDITATION
6:08 MINS

#meditation #meditate
#soulwork #energy

Updated 'RESET'
https://asimplelifesolution.com/reset

Get moving, meditating & resetting!
I hope this serves you well.

#meditate #reset #live #love #selfcare #beauty #soulwork #intentional #resetting #wholesome #beginagain #helping #strengthinyou #meditation #helpyourself #strengthen #believe #home #fall #cominghome #help

https://thelongstand.substack.com/p/the-architecture-of-the-badlands
"Relief lasts a breath. Then you hear it: the bedrock itself is cracking." 🌑

Our internal structures speak a language beyond the physical. When things feel like they’re breaking, remember: it’s often just the old foundation making room for something deeper.

Listen to the unseen. 🌿

#InnerPeace #GrowthMindset #Philosophy #AbstractArt #SoulWork #LifeReflections

What if the quietest power isn't found in moving forward?

Sometimes it's found in returning, again and again, to familiar ground. In trusting that repetition reveals what novelty hides.

What practice has shaped you through returning?

#quietpower #repetition #presence
#intimacywithpractice #returning #familiarity
#yogaphilosophy #depthwork #soulwork

What if the quietest power isn't found in moving forward?

Sometimes it's found in returning, again and again, to familiar ground. In trusting that repetition reveals what novelty hides.

What practice has shaped you through returning?

#quietpower #repetition #presence
#intimacywithpractice #returning #familiarity
#yogaphilosophy #depthwork #soulwork

What if the quietest power isn't found in moving forward?

Sometimes it's found in returning, again and again, to familiar ground. In trusting that repetition reveals what novelty hides.

What practice has shaped you through returning?

#quietpower #repetition #presence
#intimacywithpractice #returning #familiarity
#yogaphilosophy #depthwork #soulwork