psyched out

originally written/posted on jan. 4


i'm always walking a tightrope between two selves.
this fragmentation is what causes stops and starts in my rhythms.
it silences my prayers and my words.

one self operates from 9-5.

the other works in my real life. 6pm and beyond.
the one that wanders through dreams.

centuries ago i probably would have known many more women--surrogate mothers, sisters, friends. servant of the goddess, insulated by the temples, praised and protected for my sensitivities and ability to cross between worlds.

these days, those same proclivities are generally considered to be somewhere between insanity and naivete; modes and methods once essential to serving the divine and comprehending life reduced to vague dreamscapes or fleeting memories.

not many folks remember how to cultivate or harness them. myself included.
i am trying to--destined to, even--relearn.

still.
i'd be a basket case if i allowed myself to be myself 24/7.

my too-small house would stay full of stray animals and humans in varying states of homelessness. anyone who came to my door would be, at a minimum, fed.

against everyone's advice, i'd probably adopt a dozen foster children and teach them all how to read, sing, and dance as if their lives depended on it.

i'd kiss the sunlight back into any decent-looking man with sad eyes and hardened hands who crossed my path.

my heart would break. daily. maybe hourly.

i'd weep at the state of the world on cue.
(to the point of buying stock in kleenex...)

feel the pain of a thousand children in a breeze. and run to hold them.

the full power of my sensuality would be equally attractive and repulsive. i'd probably be a woman with many more lovers, but infinitely lonely as well.

i might bear several more children than i "ought" to--husband or no--unable to fathom why i should cease participating in the cycle of life as frequently and abundantly as god(dess) allowed, convinced the earth under my feet would provide everything we needed.

i sometimes wonder if i'll ever be strong enough to live that way. even figuratively.

for now, i'm grateful that i've learned how to survive. i do not live in fear of losing my mind like so many of my brothers and sisters on the street.

no one told them it was ok to be that way, that it was more natural than what they'd been taught was "normal".

some were berated and abused for being themselves. others were ignored, left with no mirror to reflect their lights back to them.

still others simply could not bear the weight of this world: the restless, forgotten, havoc-wreaking spirits; the lack of order and symmetry; the faces of those who have forgotten what love looks like.

it ain't easy.

one month

mid-december
get the usual approaching moon time signals, no big deal. go on about life, thinking i'll be doin my thing in a week.


late december
nothing happens. blame the solstice (they usually throw me off a few days)
feeling a little off, breasts hellishly achy
realize i haven't had a period since late november...


new year's day
take (another) pee test 'cause the ones with the crosses were too confusing.
get those two lines.
surprise, surprise.


jan 2
return to work. make gyn appointment.
won't know shit (for sure) til the 17th.


jan 12, afternoon
can't wait, take the 2nd pee test (week + 4 days later...anything hormonally-related would cause it to flake...).
two lines again. darker this time.
some spotting in the afternoon, which i know can be a big deal...or not.
try not to sweat it since there's no pain.


jan 13, evening
the worst cramps i've ever had in life (two aleve didn't do the trick. can't walk. wanna throw up).

more bleeding. scared as hell.

i'm @ my mom's & have to play it off like the cycle from hell 'cause we already decided not to say shit til about 3.5 mos. in, for various reasons.

finally make my way home at almost midnight.


jan 14, morning
still bleeding, but cramps have finally stopped.

go to the bathroom...

pass something that i know had to be some part of what caused those two lines.

no more sore boobs. no more queasiness (til later).

skip work, but gotta keep it together...got a plane to catch...


jan 17
was supposed to be the big day...confirmation. finally.

snow kept me from the doctor's office, but a phone call left me feeling helpless.

after i explained, was gently told there wasn't a lot they could do. no need to reschedule unless i have other symptoms.

i sniffled a bit when the bleeding started, but now it really hits me:

i could have been a mama. and now i won't be.

~~*~~*~~

epilogue
i'm ok with it. we weren't planning on it, and the timing could definitely be better. but this experience has strengthened me, in many ways. i'm actually happy to know i can conceive--something i've never been completely sure of and, given my maternal family's medical history, worried silently over.

i am grateful to my ori for never steering me wrong & the ears to hear.
i am grateful to the ancestors for standing with me & giving me this lesson.
i am grateful for the orisa watching over me and guiding my life.
i am grateful to honey for being such a loving, gracious man.
i am grateful to the coven for their prayers and support.
i am grateful to my ile for the same.

i am grateful for the strength to tell this story, because i didn't think i'd be able to.

i am grateful for my body handling this with such power and grace and, in turn, putting my mind in its place ("me, pregnant? oh HELL no...i can't deal with _______!!!" lol)

ase.

worldliness

many sundays i wind up listening to the local blk college radio station...they play gospel all day.

mostly i listen because i like the singing, the harmonies. there are songs that simply give me goosebumps. some of the testimonies are my own. growing up, i didn't hear this kind of singing in my church, so it's a treat for me.

...but, invariably, i wind up hearing something that inspires a wtf moment.

just heard "goodbye world": folks rejoicing 'cause they're goin to jesus and "won't see this world no more".

hm.

i love this world.
i think i'm supposed to love this world.
it's a miracle and a gift that i am here.

...not to mention that i don't think i ever completely lost my african sense of time. the past/present/future mingle into one. understanding of one cannot exist without an examination of them all.

we do come back--whether you wanna call it DNA or reincarnation.

no, i don't love the inequality, the pain, the suffering. i don't like that children aren't safe, that women are abused, that men are faltering under the weight of ridiculous notions of patriarchy and privilege.

but i love flowers. and sex. the ups and downs of friendships and relationships. my reflection in a mirror.

the feeling of my cat's tail on my calves. music. FOOD. the laughter of babies. masturbation. rum and tequila. massage. i love to curse and spit when necessary. i enjoy laughing, loud and often.

i'm gonna do like baby suggs and love my flesh, 'cause i don't see a reason not to.

and if that makes me a sinner, so be it.

give thanks...

solitude
knowing what is possible
the love in my life
empathy
long-awaited phone calls
the sweetness of osun's honey
a decently long 'fro
amethyst bracelets
paydays
friends you can call (or who'll call you if you need 'em) at 3am
prayer circles
pizza and chocolate (best "medication" there is...)
soft, freshly made hotel beds
a great job
family
dreams

my comments are turning into conversations...

so i went over to dark daughta's house and saw the slut manifesto.

and i'm reminded that i carry a sizable "s" on my chest...albeit quietly kept and largely subdued.

she gets out sometimes, tho.

so i said:

hm...

this is really interesting. mainly because it's a lot closer to my true nature (with the exception of "relationship busting"...ha) than what's "expected" of me. i tend to be flirtatious, free loving, and highly sensual.

i would have to disagree with her re: the pussy in & of itself not being powerful...birth. period. nuff said.

that said, my mother and i have had several arguments over marriage and why it is(n't) important. i know she probably thinks i've had more boyfriends than is "good" for me, or suspected me of sleeping with people "too soon".

i've spent the last few years relatively torn (emotionally) between two men i love very much, knowing i can't have both, etc. and so on.

largely, i am a serial monogamist, and i have no problem with that. i enjoy the connections and intimacy that come with a single (primary, at times) partner. at the same time, i often wind up sacrificing some of my physical/sexual needs (to touch and be touched, daily. longing for new & different sensations. deep and full orgasm) for my intellectual/emotional ones (friendship, intimacy, passionate conversation, shared outlook). very mixed bag.

i see it, i own it, and i accept it...but there have been eruptions. when i rebel and/or have an ache for freedom, it's typically resulted in a breakup. just about every year honey & i have been together, we've separated, sometimes for several months at a time. and almost each time, i wound up with several suitors (or one in particular--the other love) filling in the gaps. but even that gets tiring because, for whatever reason, i'm usually on that "high price" end (i guess 'cause i'm a "closeted slut". ha), and fools always wanna lock me down or some shit. i learned the hard way that most men (people?) don't think of sex as something to be enjoyed, savored, and let go of with no hard feelings. for me, it's like getting to know someone, a conversation. i don't need to spend my life with you afterwards...

on some levels i'm still coming to terms with the parts of me that remember--and love--my past lives as courtesan, sacred whore, and harem girl. some part of me remembers babylonian and kemetian love temples and sacred fertility rituals. how am i supposed to fit into the narrow way(s) offered me?

i'm still trying to figure out if the notion of truly settling down--whatever that's supposed to mean--is actually for me. some days i think it is, other days i don't know.

this might be a "part 1" of something larger...

right on, hermana

y'all think i'm playin

this sista is bad. bad meaning good.

you should really go over and chat with her some time. it'll blow your mind, i promise.