checking in...


still feeling a little odd...plus my spirit got a bit of a jolt yesterday, so i'm kinda recovering from that.

still trying to get some words out. they're slow in coming.

steeling myself for the job hunt.

before i went to sleep last night i kept feeling like i was trying to leave my body again. is my freedom that compromised? what am i trying to connect to?

i would have loved a big breakfast...scrambled tofu (don't sleep...it's fantastic when done right), fake sausage, buttery toast and jam, juice...maybe even a slice of french toast. but who has time for all that? maybe i'll treat myself this weekend...


i think all those green foods yesterday shocked my body into detox mode.


guess it's a water/juice/tea day for me...



lately i've been feeling like i need to eat, constantly. but i'm not really hungry.

it's a hunger...something deep and strong. it's not negative...it's not compulsive or obsessive. there's no greed in it.

but it's present.

i think it's a wanderlust. i wanna go somewhere, do something. i want to expand, live, breathe in a space bigger than the one i'm allowed right now.

it's all coming...i know it is. maybe that's what's causing the longing. i know it's all just around the corner. i can do everything but touch/taste it...it's not quite close enough for that...

but it will be.

i'm very rarely impatient, but right now i feel like a horse just behind the starting gate. i wanna go, NOW.

my senses are coming back to me. all of them. it's an adjustment, but also an answer to a prayer. i'm feeling more alive than i have in years, probably. so that means having to take a look around me and wonder, "is this really enough?" and in some very important ways, i'm saying, "no. it isn't."

so i'm hungry.
not starving.
not desperate.

but it's just enough to drive me to hunt.

last night i dreamt that my boss decided to drop all kinds of personal crap in my lap. like, endless letters full of her problems and issues, expecting me to solve them. i promptly let her know that that was not my burden to bear, and i refused to bear it...plus i was gonna keep the letters as proof just in case she tried to punish me for not being her therapist on top of everything else.

not to mention my officemate had a dream i quit...

i've done some reflection. the energy loosed by the cleaning/purging has settled quite a bit.

now it's time to start jumping into action.

adupe ori mi


white texan conservative xtians turning to islam...

...'cause the church is just too liberal!


the video & the pre-printed description are below.

Please Visit http://www.turntoislam.com for more documentaries. For this video Please Link to our webSite. http://www.turntoislam.com

The documentary explores the lives of several Texan families. Muslim and Non Muslim, and their views about Islam and life in the West.

George W Bush may be backed by Christian fundamentalists but in his home state of Texas, Islam is the latest big draw. The Bible belt is transferring its allegiance to the Quran because, for many erstwhile Christians, believe it or not, the church is too liberal.

Eric was a Baptist preacher before he became a Muslim 14 years ago. Now he prays five times a day and even in the middle of watching a football game. His wife, Karen, also a convert, is covered from head to toe in the traditional Muslim burka. Islam, says Eric, is everything I wanted Christianity to be. His mother has found it hard to come to terms with her sons conversion and believes he will return to the Christian faith: Then he will be a dynamic preacher. Eric says: "Maybe some day she will embrace Islam."


more gratitude

i'm having a pretty annoying morning, so i need to count some blessings...

brazilian music
having options
dream books
shea butter
water coolers
dudu osun soap
chocolate! (thanks, girl)
digital photography
working automobiles
cute security guards
trader joe's moisturizing cream
having options
friends who listen to me bitch
casual work dress environments
tazo tea (especially "calm")
cheap parking meters
warm showers
the omnipresence of spirit
clean desks
disinfectant wipes
flat shoes
carol's daughter "almond cookie" soap


i want that house.

the one i stare at every time i ride by...

the one i now know has 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, has been renovated and the basement finished.

it's supposed to be outta my range.
but i want it anyway.

*cracks knuckles*

let's see if i can get to conjurin'....

is this what birthing feels like?

ok, y'all.

i feel weird.
like, outta my damn mind weird.

i'm all over the place...i blame hormones for any weirdness last week, but now that i'm leveling off on that tip, i still feel...uprooted. i'm guessing it's just all the clearing/moving/shifting of energy, but...it's a very strange thing.

maybe it's the season. i tend to be very inert in the winter. sometimes bordering on depression. thankfully i don't feel that way this year...probably because i took some intiative and got on the ball early this time around. still, it just doesn't seem worth doing much of anything.

maybe it's not quite time yet. maybe i have to let things incubate for a few weeks, start thinking about manifestation closer to spring. should i keep things in a state of germination and reflection for now? maybe i'm moving too fast?

on the other hand, i'm afraid of active procrastination.

i started my desire book, per mama gena. that's been really fun...and it's definitely helping me conceptualize what i want for my new home/wardrobe/life.

i've cleaned out my closets..given away some things and thrown out others. shoes included. i'm making space. and i'm happy about that.

but you know how it is when you start kickin up dust...suppose i just have to check for dust bunnies & such before i move up a level.

i can sense the movement. maybe that's good enough for now.


makes me wanna holler...

you know, some days it's all i can do to sit at this desk & keep from crying...

maybe i'll allow myself a pity party tonight, let some of the tears flow, and use the weekend to get the strength to keep going.

i'm so BORED.

hell, i can't even shop at lunch. there's nothing around that's not a pawn shop, $1 store, or full of meat...

every time i go to the market down the street, i'm surrounded by some of the poorest & most pained of my people...and it ain't like me sitting here doing my 40 hours is doing shit to help any of 'em.

every month another block of houses is sacrificed for them to build more "biotech parks" and what not...

just this morning i found out one of my bosses is going to india next month. india. are you fkin kiddin me? and i could barely get to VEGAS last summer?

and i'm moving to a smaller office. that i'll still have to share.

fk this.
i need better
i deserve better
and i'm gonna get better.

i just have to go out there and grab it.

i wanna feel like i'm doing something, anything, to actually make a difference for someone else. i need to be working, somehow, with and in the real world. or at least get a promotion every couple of years. get paid enough to save some money, travel, AND treat myself to some goodies every now and then with NO problem.

this place offers me none of that.

on the bad days, i still feel like there's not a place for me in this world--at least not one that offers a decent paycheck. i have to keep telling myself i'm wrong--that i just don't know any better 'cause no one around me has known any better. ppl in my family just work. my parents do things they love, but it just so happened that what they love is pretty well built into the existing socioeconomic structure.

still, telling myself i'm wrong and trying reroute my circuitry is the only way to stay motivated enough to go out there and find what i'm looking for: the stepping stone that will allow me to get to a place where i can work for myself & for my people.

i can't give up.
the world needs me, or i wouldn't be here, right?

i chose this destiny.
time to pimp it out.


the tiger has lost his teeth
finally effectively caged
entombed in a vessel that has rejected its abuse
or maybe, simply
has stopped trying to speak to a world that won't listen

revered now that he is silent
many forget the brash youth
butterfly light
full of hornet poison
aligning with uncompromising blackness instead of
feeding into white supremacist fantasies
of who he should be

and now
you can almost hear the awwwwws
as they film him blowing out
birthday candles

fk their short memories
and their false smiles

we remember who you were
who you still are
we will teach our children
to remember the beauty of your prime
make sure they know
we respect your peace
but also know that it was forced upon you.

(c) l.a.m. 2007

although i don't deal with boxing on any real level, i've always had a soft spot for muhammad ali...mainly 'cause young pictures of him remind me of young pictures of my father...

i truly think it's possible that today, when he's smiling at the crowds of people who adore him now, that sometimes--just sometimes--he's laughing his ass off and blessin' ALL of 'em out. or at least half of 'em.

age mellows, certainly. but there's gotta still be a little of that raised-fist arrogance left in him.

so, in that spirit i say: happy birthday.


my latest theme song...

it's playing on my myspace page, and i listen to it several times each morning...

i wanna believe
that love is the color of something here
i wanna believe
that words can save the world
wanna live my life
like survival depends on it

if they only knew
if they only knew why we go
if they only knew why we do the things we do
why we go chasing stars
shifting moons to find more time for truth
when life finds you blindfolded and lonely
running from gray clouds
go & find your voice
and never stop chasing stars...

"if they only knew"

sacred sexuality

it's a shame that our culture is not familiar with the concept of sacred sexuality. i mean, yeah, you can take a class on tantra or something, but--barring ethnic heritages--we are not fully vested in the power of our bodies...and that's especially true of women.

i'm not talking about sensuality as commodity. stripping to get through college is all well and good, but it's not the point here.

i'm talking about understanding that women walk with the gateway between heaven & earth between their thighs (c) olaomi--whether they use it to bring forth children or concepts and ideas. as for men, the penis is not a weapon, but a protective, motivating activation of the life force.

i'm talking about temples where the act of sex was made into a ritual designed to continue, celebrate, embrace and encourage life.

i know it seems near impossible from our perspective, but...have you ever had a moment like that? when your lover made you feel like you were not a woman, but a chalice? that your bed was an altar? orgasms that shake your soul, blending all of yourself into one shining sphere of light?

if not, you need to find a book/relationship/person/toy/thought/idea that'll show you how.

it's not just about a release...
it's about manifesting the power to create your world.
pleasure that allows you to drift into your most powerful, prophetic dreaming.

the female orgasm is not a myth. it's the reason everything wonderful about mankind exists.

tune yourself into your goddess nature--whether you're a fertility goddess, warrior woman, medicine woman, healer, domestic, mother, artist, creator/destroyer...whatever.

be Her.
know Her.
love Her.

the memory is etched into your womb. seriously. if you open to it, it will come.

suggested reading...
(if you have a favorite, post it here or in the comments section. let's start a revolution, y'all)

aphrodite's daughters by jalaja bonheim

all about love by bell hooks

the clitoral truth by rebecca chalker

the black unicorn: poems by audre lorde

sassafrass, cypress, and indigo by ntozake shange

the prisoner's wife by asha bandele

the encyclopedia of sacred sexuality by rufus camphausen

healing love through the tao: cutivating female sexual energy by mantak chia

the multi-orgasmic man by mantak chia & douglas abrams arava


today i am grateful for...

the women who introduced me to mama gena
my ancestors
friends who send care packages
frida kahlo
clean desks
bliss inducing foods
owning my intelligence
desire lists
colorful post-its
love, period.
the ability of my physical image to mirror my spirit
love of god
trader joe's
knowledge of self
essential oils
my woobie
knowing i'm bigger than what they're (u know which "they" lol) offering me
fresh herbs


maferefun egungun mi. mojuba egun. mojuba ori

i've been feeling my egun around lately, wanting me to come and talk to them...but as i've said before, it can be difficult for me to settle down and meditate when i need to...

even so, i had the most beautiful dream of being in the presence of my ancestors. as i knelt/sat before them, i found myself saying the same prayer that i would have said aloud.

dreaming of my collective ancestors is always interesting: i'm usually in a space--i can't really call it a room since there don't appear to be any walls--filled with light. i know that there's a multitude around me, but most of the time i can't see them. it's like being in the center of a football field in a packed stadium.

i can't make them out, but they're there. and i can sense how they're feeling. if they're warning me, congratulating me, imparting some knowledge...

they're definitely happy with me. and i love them for watching out for me--even when i forget to say my prayers like a good little girl.

i'm workin on it y'all. stay on me.

little victories

my "veggie" lasagna from the cafe upstairs was full of sausage.
but i got my money back & i didn't need the cheese anyway

my boss has issues. she needs to know that she ain't scarlett o'hara, and i ain't prissy.
but i'm on my way outta here

the new computer system here blows chunks.
see above


the red plum nantucket nectar ain't bad.

i have peanuts to snack on.

it's a three day weekend.

and i'm happier than i've been in months.

so i guess that's enough to balance it all out.

mojuba obatala...adupe.
keep my head cool until i can make another way, baba, please...


feelin' myself

i think i've had the other template for, oh, 3 years. lol.

it was time for a change.

i'm creating new spaces for myself, both literally & figuratively. so...that included my virtual spaces as well. my myspace page even got a makeover.


welcome to my lagoon.


i *heart* my womb


women's intuition? that fury that hell hath not? all that love your mama gave you? it's all from the womb...

this is something of a love letter.

this morning i had the AM off for a dentist appointment. so...after that, i got the oil changed, went out for one of my favorite breakfasts, had a lovely cup of tea...

and spent $60+ at staples buying all new pens/notebooks/etc.


because since my computer crash long, long ago, my desk has become a catch all for random papers/receipts/madness. kitty's litterbox sits next to it underneath an end table.

horrible, i know.

i gave up on it, intending to have a new computer soon...
but "soon" turned into months...
and now it's...a pile of dead trees.
some important, some not.

i decided that between now & the weekend, i need to make a concerted effort to reclaim my desk.

i need to rename it, too. something like the dreamspace or spirit workshop...maybe even ground zero.

i got soulwork to do.

let me say: you have no idea how WEIRD/fantastic/silly/strange/beautiful/scary that is to me... but i know it's the truth.

and i have my womb to thank for it.
(a more-than-honorable mention goes to this book.)

there's a clarity that comes with my cycle. most people refer to it as pms, and it's seen as a very negative thing that needs to be drugged up and dismissed, post haste. my mood swings were famous, and i just told myself i was crazy along with everyone else. however, i think that thinking of my body and its processes in a more holistic, gyno-centric, and magical way over the last couple of years--not to mention being exposed more to like minded women & refocusing myself spiritually--i'm learning to reconvert that energy into the fire under my feet.

yes, i still get cramps. and headaches. and the wardrobe-killing bloating. but on the whole, my period is less about sitting around being weepy & sucking down chocolate and more about "ok. what's my status? what's my direction? what do i need?". it's a time where i become 100xs more aware of where i am/where i'm going/where i want to be.

when my womb starts acting up, it becomes the fire under my feet.

and i suppose that's what it's been all along...

so, thank you, womb. you're the best.


i wanna write

but the words don't come...
or get tangled in the synapses between my mind and my fingers

but i'm writing now,

i suppose...but
everything feels like a half assed
half sketched rough draft of a
something partly finished

notebooks gathering dust on bookshelves
while i stick my nose in yet another book
out of the ideas of others
come papyrus iv's
keeping me alive
as if i'm not creative enough on my own

but i ain't feelin myself these days...


i gotta
throw out all the old pens and pencils
file away books filled with last year's dreams
grab some sparkling multicolored pens
and plain old bics
notebooks thick with rainbow colored paper
& simple composition books
clean off my desk
and get to it.

the case against god

(hey...that's actually a book title...)

between last night's episode of wife swap and a pbs show that talked about the surge of atheist literature, i started wondering about atheism.

granted, i really don't care whether or not ppl believe in god. i tend to think that ppl who are overly concerned with atheists lack a certain amount of faith--however loudly declared--themselves. but i digress.

someone once said--and i paraphrase--that since god is everywhere & in everything, atheism in free-will having humans is just god doubting itself. in essence, the creative force having a little fun by asking the question "am i really here?".

i could definitely see that.

the thing that bothers me is, how come the only thing they seem to be against is christianity? the more broadly minded ones throw judaism and islam into the mix, but...those are only three religious ideologies. all of which, mind you, are variations on the same theme and have seemingly countless sects--including mystic traditions that, when studied, are almost nothing like the more orthodox, literal, and/or fundamentalist side of things.

still, aren't they aware that there are a ton of other spiritual systems out there?

what about buddhism? in many buddhist traditions, buddha is not seen as a god, but an ideal. an example of an enlightened life. and even he didn't start off that way, so there's no pressure to be perfect right away.

secular humanists seem to be riding this kind of line, but with all their emphasis on morality, their dismissal of any sort of higher power is almost funny. it's like watching a baby who's just learning how to crawl do that backward sideways crab thing. we're gonna reject god just 'cause. they seem to wanna shout, "i can be human without YOU!"

how about things like martial arts or yoga? nothing religious, yet each is intensely spiritual in its execution. go to yoga maybe twice a week for a month and try not to internalize the divinity of something as simple as breathing. i dare you.

not all atheists are cut from the same cloth, i'm aware. but all i hear from a lot of the louder ones is anti-christian backlash.

that's not the only game in town, people.



starts here.

call me cynical...

well, i had a really good blog idea waking up from some dreams this morning, but it escapes me now...

so i guess i'll go off a conversation i had with honey yesterday...

i'm wondering if being an american is something of a myth--at least for everyone except for wasp-y mayflower descendants.

in 1776, my ancestors were either still in africa or still slaves.

in 1920 when white women earned the right to vote, my ancestors were still left out.

just when my ppl were being freed, hawaiians were coming under fire.

the great movement west will always be remembered as a time of mourning for native americans.

and, for the record, mexicans are only crossing the borders that crossed them first.

i could go on.

i understand that i am american by virtue of being born here. i am culturally and linguistically american.

but then again, my culture is different. and so's my language--particularly when i'm off work. the history of my people in this nation is a blink of the eye compared to their history across the ocean.

many others could say the same.

and unlike the irish, italians, and other europeans who were demonized when they first arrived, blending in was never an option for my folks.

so...were we ever really a melting pot?
is our shared history a cultural myth?
what really unites us as "americans" aside from the accident of our births?

i'm beginning to think that the things the media & other culture-makers say unite us as "americans" are really things that unite us as human beings--things that would give pause to any group of sentient, dissimilar human beings sharing space.

like most ppl of color, i'm always aware of the undercurrent of second opinions when "uniting" events occur (read: wars, 9/11, etc.). we know that things tend to affect "us" differently than they do everyone else.*

i think that the racial, socioeconomic, and class barriers we see today will only begin to erode once americans begin to view their history/histories holistically.

we have to be totally honest about the fact that different groups have developed at different times & in different spheres of influence. maybe then we can begin to live up to the ideals that were set down on paper 300+ years ago.

however, as long as we only see and understand history in footnotes and snippets, we'll continue to think that--since 1776--this has simply been one nation, indivisible, with liberty & justice for all.

*never forget that the media had no problem calling hundreds of ppl "refugees" for several days after hurricane katrina.


they blame hip hop for the madness in the ghetto...

what are they gonna blame for this?

HOUSTON - A 10-year-old boy was apparently mimicking Saddam Hussein's execution when he hanged himself from a bunk bed, police and family members said.

Sergio Pelico was found dead Sunday in his apartment bedroom after watching a news report on the execution of the former Iraqi leader, said Webster Police Lt. Tom Claunch.

"Our gut reaction is that he was experimenting," Claunch said after officials spoke with family members. An autopsy of the fifth-grader's body was pending.

Julio Gustavo, Sergio's uncle, described the boy as happy and curious. He said Sergio had watched TV news with another uncle on Saturday and asked the uncle about Saddam's death.

"His uncle told him it was because Saddam was real bad," Gustavo said. "He (Sergio) said, 'OK.' And that was it."

"I don't think he thought it was real," Gustavo said. "They showed them putting the noose around his neck and everything. Why show that on TV?


"fear is the mind killer"

...you should probably read dune if you haven't already.


last night was interesting. i said my usual full moon prayers, did a meditation, and tried to get some rest. but i never quite fell asleep. it was like i was still awake...trying to keep some invader away from me.

i ran, i tried to ignore it...but it kept coming at me.

i hid, screamed that silent dream scream...i did everything i could think to do...

except fight.

i woke up briefly, remembering a technique a friend taught me years ago (bless you, wherever you are): i drenched myself in light. steeled myself. i added the vision of a katana sword with a white hilt, and draped myself in white cloth. and fell back asleep.

i told whatever it was that it needed to get away from me. that i was prepared to kill it.

it tried to disguise itself, but that didn't work too well. i cut it and it didn't bleed. it was nothing even resembling a person.

so i left it where it lay.

over the last few months i've been doing a lot of work to get old obstacles out of my way. i have a path to walk, and i don't want to be hindered by ideas/attitudes/thinking that have become comfortable.

i know a large part of this is reclaiming and using my creativity.

i wrote an affirmation for myself a few nights ago:

you are a writer.
it's on the door of the closet that faces my bedroom.
when i get up in the morning and walk to the shower i see it.
my laundry's in there, so i see it when i put clothes in the hamper.
i see it on the way to bed.

i can feel it working.

but when you sweep out the old, something always wants to stay. the universe wants you to win, but your ego can get in the way. either because it's too big and won't take any advice, or it's fragile and afraid of getting hurt. i'm more of the latter.

stay small where no one can see you. don't draw attention to yourself. you're not really that special, you know...

it's not a self esteem thing. it's more so your mind's way of protecting you.

some ppl refer to that as the devil. so be it. i think of it as a human refuge.
no one wants to be assed out and fail--or, rather, have a perception of failure. myself included.

but it's when you take those leaps of faith that you realize you didn't have shit to be afraid of to begin with.

in women who run with the wolves, dr. estes talks about the "predator" that tends to attack women in dreams when they're on the verge of getting in touch with their wild, intuitive, deep selves.

that's what i encountered last night...only it was a far more literal version than the usual bad man in the woods or walk through a dark alley.

i've seen it before.
it happens whenever i shake myself into awareness.
the longer i've been sleeping, the more frightening the awakening is.

but i am a child of ogun.
i am never without my machete. and i rarely lose my way.
i have nothing to be afraid of.
my success has been assured. and i'm on my way to claiming it.

damn the haters.