TEATIME TUESDAYS Raquel Sherron

Being gathered in today's terminology hardly refers to anything constructive. Its meaning, I'm sure,  is contrary to what Sir Solomon may have intended. In fact, according to the urban dictionary, you are gathered when a person tries to come for you or question you and your authority, and you retaliate with pure indiscriminate justice. This often makes the victim embarrassed, ashamed or belittled.
Now imagine that. Someone collects all the most inconceivable bits and pieces about you and then hurls them at you like little mistles, all to break you down. Picture David slinging that stone at Goliath's head but him surviving to hear his fellow soldiers jeering at how a mere boy defeats a big ole hefty giant.
I highly doubt Solomon urged us to gather stones to hurt folks. But however you are led to interpret what Solomon means, one might agree that this act is intended to cultivate, grow, build, or protect.

An old proverb says, "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." I ain't gonna lie; I should never throw stones, seeing as my house even has glass fixtures and furniture. As soon as my petty nature rises, I remember that at one point, I was the immediate past president of the "stay-doing dumbness" club! 

I was thrown for a loop when I checked this week's topic. Before now, I had never considered what this contrasting season could mean. After all, Ecclesiastes 3 is merely that scripture we resort to at funerals. Otherwise, we quote any couplet of the fourteen whenever the need arises, according to our circumstances. 


Staring at that line, 'a time to scatter stones,' had me a bit perplexed. First, the word 'scatter' means to throw in various random directions. Yet my childhood warning had me at odds with that thought. As children, we were often cautioned not to throw stones because they have no eyes! In other words, once released, their target is sometimes up to chance. Why, then, is Solomon telling us time is allocated for scattering stones? To scatter does not suggest any kind of order to me. To scatter anything, to me, spells chaos. 

Right then, I couldn't help recalling the number of times the Bible refers to stones or rocks in some way. Most famously, David defeated Goliath with a small stone. This, though, was one of those cases where the rock understood the assignment. It also says to me that rocks aren't solely for building, but when used unconventionally, a rock becomes a weapon. So, I had to question, "Is 'throwing' a means of scattering?"

Dancing these days has been relegated to having Meg the Stallion knees and the uncanny ability to gyrate a single side of one's gluteus maximus on command. Perchance, if your Tik Tok trend can hit a million views from your mastery of choreography, you, my friend, have reached the pinnacle of stardom. Well, let me tell you now, if that is the prerequisite, many of us are disqualified. 

Much like laughter, dance is awakened by the presence of something pleasant. And no, this isn't scientifically proven by experts, but I can say with all confidence, we've all witnessed how food that hits the spot can cause one to dance happily. Or we've seen how exciting news could result in a shimmy. Most of us can’t help but bounce to an imaginary beat when we've received something unexpected but hoped for. 


Similar to music, I think dance is universal. But I've noticed that one's dance capability is relative depending on who you ask. I would even venture to say that when it comes to dancing, movement and rhythm, a particular group of people of a certain pigmentation tend to feel they have the monopoly. #melaninainttheonlythingpoppin 

Ooooh, my Gawd, Solomon! Oh. My. God! (throws hands in the air and walks out) Sirrrr, didn't we just finish weeping? Now we gatta grieve too!!?? #seriously 
Listen, this wasn't sitting well with me, either. My spirit was quite perturbed. Spoiler alert: it's plenty more list to go—so hang tight! Anyway, for the record, grief is slightly different from weeping (not everyone who grieves cries)—though they often team up. 
Remember last week I had said weeping, among other things, is associated with grief, and when a person weeps, either they are experiencing great anguish or extraordinary loss. Well, grief or mourning is dealing with the loss part. Let's be clear, though, that 'loss' does not only apply to death. You can grieve something or someone who is very much alive. 
It would be super easy for me to sit here and tell you about the casualties of what I deemed my great loves. Or I can agonize over the one I felt got away. I could avidly relive every gory detail and paint a graphic picture of my 'woe is me, I'm undone' pity party. But as a matter of clarity rather than transparency, I would like to talk about the loss of my mothers. Yes, plural. #boafem

Regardless of their outward appearance, being a funny dude is the' milkshake (jokes) that will forever bring all the girls to the yard. It's just something about slapping a guy on the shoulder and throwing your head back to let out a boisterous, almost snorting laugh. #ahfuntimes
I don't know everything, but I do know more people would rather laugh than cry, and others laugh, so they don't cry. Either way, many people stand by the belief that laughter is like medicine to the soul. 
As a kid, I've always been told to stop grinning like an ole chessy-cat. My brother could say moo, and I'd be keeling over like he was the headliner of the original Kings of Comedy. But as I got older, laughter became my defence mechanism, bursting out at the most inopportune times, causing me to come across as silly rather than nervous. 
Other times, I could type 'LOL' eleventeen million times in a day and never crack a smile. During those pretentious spells, I found myself watching hours of comedic specials to pull myself out of a mental funk. I would pop jokes like emotional ibuprofen, and just like the actual drug, the high of that good old chuckle wore off rather quickly.


It is common to laugh out of shock or disbelief, as well as out of amazement or joy. Naturally, I asked myself, exactly how long does laughter's medicinal benefits last? Is it a be-all, end-all cure, or is it a temporary fix to mask how we truly feel? Realistically, how much laughter does one need to erase what may feel like a lifetime of getting the messy end of the stick? 

Unlike most folks, I get excited when I see the caption 'long post' alert. You get to learn so much about the person doing the posting. Chances are they are about to be transparent, and somehow, reading it acknowledges that you are not alone. As bad as it sounds, it kinda gives you solace.
As I reflected on this month of August, my mind wandered to two posts I had seen that broke my heart. Each in a slightly different way. In one piece, I read of a college student's journey. One so rough that I doubt I'd have the fortitude to see it through. And the other, I watched an old clip of a scholarship recipient’s acceptance speech. His story was so moving that it prompted me to reflect on how much of my high school life was taken for granted and borderline wasted. 
Aimlessly scrolling my timeline, I saw a radiant photo of a beautiful young lady regaled in her cap and gown. I didn't know her, but her smile caused me to pause. And there it was, long post alert. I began to read her testimony through her six-year tertiary experience. With each paragraph, my heart sank as she spoke of how she was battling sickle cells the whole time. Thinking back on my autoimmune condition, I could easily empathize. But what added insult to injury was, mid-degree, she encountered one of the worse crises she'd ever experienced. An episode that was so dire that she had to withdraw from classes for a semester. Now, if you know anything about The University of The Bahamas, that in and of itself is enough to make one weep.