For the past few nights, I’ve been up til almost 3 am, keeping myself company and comforting my wild mind. Between the new (super moon) and mercury entering retrograde, the universe has been busy. As a result, I feel supremely powerful and I imagine that this energy is so intense, it refuses to shake me loose — even if it means staying up til almost dawn. Today was slow and calm. I spent my early afternoon reflecting over what meditation and my tarot reading had to say. More about balance, prudence and clever execution of plans. I cannot explain how God-filled and magical I feel and have been feeling since the start of the new year. It’s almost scary — almost intimidating — but because I know it comes from a good place, fear escapes me, and instead I cleave to obsessive thinking. Go figure. I want to be better and I am becoming who/what I want to be. But within this space I am dancing, repeatedly, with patience. Patience is the song that guides each step. I want to give myself the space to be still but also the room to be bold. The room to grow and bloom and become fresh/new. I believe so much in the possibility of shedding this current skin and growing into a more appropriate version of myself. One with more breathing room. One I can wiggle around in and grow into. My current coat suits me no more and I have become frustrated and annoyed with it’s uncomfortable fit. I am ready for something new. But nothing will come simply because I think NOW is the time. I have to live through my process, each day. Pushing through it, like trying to move a boulder from in front of passageway or a door. Each day another push, another shove. Then resting, then trying again. Sun up, sun down. Trying again the next day. Being committed to clearing the path. A little progress here — a little frustration there, but never giving up. Each day, rising to give it another go. Another push. Another shove. Patience.
you will look in the mirror
and you will be captivated by your own magic
— or atleast,
I pray this happens for you.
I pray that you will come
to love yourself,
not just superficially,
not just a self infatuation
for the roll of your hips
and the curvature of your soft, round face.
I hope that you will love yourself
Enough to demand what you want from life
— enough to hold fast
to the promises you have written
in your diary,
from the days you swore
you wouldn’t break your own heart
I hope love will teach you
to be gentle and firm.
To honor yourself
in the same way you expect others to.
My prayer is that you will be
overrun with joy from simply accepting
that you are infinite and deserving.
Powerful even while running on fumes.
demand more from ourselves.
Make the most of our time,
be realistic about our reactions,
be accountable and wiling to receive
what life and spirit have to show us.
One day you will look in the mirror
and you will be captivated
by your own humanness.
You will be as accepting
of your flaws as you had hoped
others would be.
You will be comfortable and confident.
You will be graceful with yourself
as much as you are realistic.
You will be honest about your lack and your loss
and you will work to reclaim
the very delicate parts of yourself
that you have compromised.
One day you will give in, release your resistance.
One day you will free yourself and you will fly.
I pray this happens for you.
The best advice
I can give myself
right now is to stay ready.
To keep myself in
the proper spaces/state of mind
to handle my process
I’m being graceful with me.
I feel a powerful
rumbling in my gut.
My spirit is expanding
and I am learning the
fundamentals of my journey.
Have you ever felt yourself
growing new wings to fly from?
I pray the sensation visits you soon.
During the last week of 2014 I purchased a book from Bus Boys and Poets, after taking my mom out for a breakfast brunch. I searched the shelves looking for a new read that would not only refresh my recent mood(s) but set the tone for whatever positivity and newness I was hoping to manifest in this next chapter of my life. Of course, I ended up browsing the Love/Spirituality section and was captivated by the title, All About Love by Bell Hooks. Since deeming love to be my theme for the new year and because Bell Hooks be Goddess, I knew those two reasons were enough to make my way over to the cash register.
Since that day (Dec. 24th) I’ve been like a kid in a candy store when it comes to soaking up the goodness of her warm words. It has truly been a treat to ingest such enlightening perspectives about love and compassion, chiefly through the eyes of women — who are, more often than not, the practitioners of this spiritually powerful/unconditional love. What’s more, Hooks raises amazing points about our willingness (or lack thereof) to express our lack/loss and our desire to receive love. Many of the same theories I have held about society and even myself as I have been moved to discover and uncover as much about love as I can — especially in new and unexpected spaces in my life.
I don’t believe in setting a schedule or marking a calendar to determine when you will become a new you. I just believe in doing it, PERIOD. Any moment is a good one to change your perspective, eliminate negativity and most of all, welcome in love. You never know what small trinket(s) the Universe may put in front of you or use to open your eyes. I pray that when the time comes your hearts and minds will be open and willing to receive unconditional love — and not just by way of romantic relationships but through art, nature, spirituality, good food, great music, and honest self reflection.
LOVE ON and without fear.
what will become of us,
when we lose complete sight of ourselves,
when we neglect our power for too long
and invite in the worry to wear us down…
what will love become,
if we are too hurt to notice,
to feel it brushing softly against our cheeks…
when did we forget that nothing is real,
and everything is everything,
and WE ARE … infinitive,
Infinitely blossoming into something new,
what will become of me,
if I cannot(do not) keep healthy outlets
for my woes,
and routines for my spiritual freedom
i fear the place i might allow myself to venture,
places where spirit won’t travel to deliver messages
because the good things stay up high
and what will life become, if we continuously,
and so often,
lose sight of our powers(selves)
Hands become these very spiritual vessels when we look with fire in our eyes.
We hold hands with our loved ones. We touch in times of loss or gain. We speak life into each other, through feeling, caress and exchange. We become obsessed with our lover’s hands. We invite their spirit into our own; their flesh, dancing over ours. Stirring ripples of energy across our bodies; deep into the roots on our heads. And we love it. We desire it. It entices us. We become entranced by our lover’s hands. We consume them.
Such closeness. Such freedom. Setting fires ablaze onto each other because we want it. We crave it. Touch and open, flowing energy. We kiss the fire into our being. We breathe it in. For us, there is redemption in there embrace. But how dangerous. To draw someone, so closely, in. We send open invitations for things we cannot see. We draw energy contracts to with our fingers and palms and we drown in it all. We drown in the fires that feel so good, to touch.
It saddens me that young girls must always fear their surroundings because to much of the world, a woman is barely human. How terrible is it that a young lady who was either drugged or simply had too much to drink at a party, was then taken advantage of and photographed by those she considered friends. What’s worse, is the photo soon went viral and became a laughing stock amongst her peers, many of whom were present at the party.
How is it possible that we have such a huge disconnect between women and men? What are we teaching our young men about women? Clearly we aren’t teaching them to value and respect women. It’s sad that so many young men only hold respect for women in their immediate family, but a young woman who goes to their school is fair game. Where is the sympathy? Where is the empathy? What are we teaching our young people?
Are we teaching them that slut shaming is the easier, more popular method of dissecting rape? Are we teaching them that if a girl has too much to drink, she has somehow welcomed such a horrible violation? Are we teaching them to look past the inhumane acts of the rapists and predators and point the finger at the young woman with the too-short skirt on? Are we teaching them that if a young girl is passed out drunk, that she has somehow consented to being taken advantage of?
When we will we begin to take responsibility for this disconnect? How often do we see even school-aged boys disrespecting women and girls? On trains, and buses and in our communities, little ones, not yet at puberty, referring to women as bitches and hoes. Cat calling to women and girls to suck their dicks and satisfy their sexual desires.
WHO IS TEACHING OUR YOUNG KINGS TO BETRAY THEIR REFLECTIONS?
Sadly, this story is hardly an isolated incident. Jada was not the first and she will not be the last. As a young girl, I too came close to being a victim of sexual assault by a little boy I went to school with. How many more young women must be attacked and violated? When will we stand up and take responsibility for what we are (NOT) teaching young people. Look at the music videos and the magazines. Rappers referring to women as merely objects. Figments of sexual desire. Women bent over, exposing themselves. Using their bodies as a currency for goods and attention. Both genders, carelessly skewing perceptions of so many young impressionable minds.
PLEASE TAKE IT UPON YOURSELF TO EDUCATE ANY AND EVERY YOUNG PERSON WITHIN EARSHOT OF YOUR VOICE.
Teach them to be mindful of their surroundings. Teach your daughters, sisters and nieces to always be alert and cautious in social environments. Teach them to be smart. To not take drinks they didn’t see prepared. To respect themselves enough to make wise decisions about the company they keep. No one can be sure of just when a person will try to attack or violate them, and it would unhealthy to send our young girls out into the world, living in fear. But to let them wander blindly and ignorantly is just as much of a disservice.
Teach your sons, brothers and nephews that ALL women are to be celebrated and respected, NOT JUST THEIR MOTHERS AND THEIR SISTERS, BUT ALL WOMEN. Teach them to protect and to cultivate and to build WITH WOMEN, not against them. TEACH THEM TO HAVE SELF CONTROL. Teach them to surround themselves with young men who are responsible, trustworthy and respectful. TEACH THEM THAT RAPE IS WRONG. THAT NOTHING MERITS RAPE — NOT A SHORT SKIRT, OR A TIGHT DRESS OF EVEN AN INTOXICATED BODY LAYING FACE FIRST ON A COUCH. NOTHING CONSTITUTES RAPE. RAPE IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER. IT IS A VIOLATION. NOT JUST OF FLESH BUT OF SPIRIT AS WELL. RAPE CAN BE JUST AS BAD, IF NOT WORSE THAN MURDER, BECAUSE THE VICTIM MUST GO ON LIVING WITH THE INHUMANE ACT THAT WAS COMMITTED AGAINST THEM.
Be mindful of the words you use when referring to women. Speak kindly about us. Speak to our magnificence or wisdom and our light. Teach boys and girls how vital THE woman is to the family, community and to the world. Teach them how vital she is to the universe. Teach them to value and respect themselves and eachother. Teach them to walk in love, compassion and empathy.
WE MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE DISCONNECT. WE MUST PROTECT OUR GIRLS!