lost & found

lyrics

i can't say what this song was about for her, but for me it recalls the ongoing challenge to integrate my ego... the protective part(s) of myself i've constructed around my true Self/soul.

sometimes protection becomes obstruction...

love, lust, and the in-between: thoughts on street harassment

{trigger warning: discussion of street harassment, sexual coercion}

in the spirit of some of my other musings (see: the slutty posts and the "what's natural" piece), i'd like to share something that's been on my mind, even though it might get me yelled at.

well...maybe not.  every time i've thought that was going to happen, it hasn't.  instead i get yelled at for things i think are pretty straightforward.  go figure.

each year as spring and summer take their sweet time getting here approach, sistas in my internet circles start speaking out about what's commonly known as street harassment.

i understand the concerns, particularly when there is actual physical intrusion involved.  and, as always, age, class, sexuality and certain physical characteristics can serve as buffers and offer privilege.  

i know the game has changed.  case in point: my ex was stabbed 'cause a woman wouldn't give a dude her number, and he intervened when the dude got outta hand. 

i know there are intersections with domestic violence, rape, coercion and other forms of sexual violence. i stand with women who feel uncomfortable being approached in an overt and/or crude manner--for whatever reason(s)--and i defend their right to defend themselves, if necessary. 

i also agree that some men are too quick to presume all women are comfortable with the same level(s) of approach, touch, and closeness.  i am not better, more special, nicer or "easier" than my friend because i'll let you hug me or rub my shoulders after knowing you for an hour (if you're cute.  maybe. ask me tomorrow.) and she won't.

we are not all the same woman in different skin.  stop that.


no, we should not be called outta our names.
no, a stranger should never fondle his genitals at the sight of you.
no, men shouldn't hiss, click, whistle or snap when they can otherwise speak.

our anger at those things is justified, a righteous, powerful tool that propels us towards gaining our just due.

yes, men should know better.
yes, male egos shouldn't be so fragile.


but...i also see complexity in this. 

as a daddy's girl and a woman who deeply loves men, i sometimes regret the ways we have this conversation.  it's a shame we've come to a reality where a woman has to consider all this when receiving an appreciative--albeit lusty--glance* or a good-intentioned request for a smile.**

i wonder what's been lost because many women have difficult, non existent, or deeply damaged relationships with their fathers and other men in their lives.  how does it hurt us when we've never lived with a man who was genuinely invested in our unique gifts and general awesomeness?

what would happen if we could hear a brotha say, "wow...you're beautiful" and genuinely reply, "thank you"--whether we wanted to exchange information or not?

i ask because i have a tendency to dig until i get to the root.  and in this situation, the root doesn't always feel like sexism or street harassment. it feels like broken hearts and shattered trusts.

as we fight against patriarchy, kyriarchy, and an encyclopedia's worth of -isms, it's important to understand the layers of interpersonal healing woven into these structures.

intellectualizing and analysis is very necessary, but we must avoid using it as a heart-shield.  remember to fight the real enemies, heal the real wounds, mourn the real losses. 

it is essential that we find time to love, to enjoy one another, fall into bliss.

i believe there are moments when we can afford that.

let's not lose that in the struggle.



*which they ALL do. even the sweet, artsy, wonderfully enlightened ones. hell, especially them. often, it's what they do AFTER the glance that matters.

**which might actually be genuine, if corny or ill-timed.  

synergetic synthesis

a few years ago, i consciously began the process of synthesizing the parts of myself i'd either scattered far and wide, or pushed into obscurity.

many of us split ourselves this way, for various reasons.  for me, there were times when this scattering happened in the name of protection, but more often it was simply to fit in, feel normal {whatever that is}.

in a general sense, some folks become aware of these splits, then try to gather in the disparate parts.  others allow the soul-shards to wander--at best never fully actualizing their full potential; at worst, fearing and hating the manifestation of those aspects in others.  sometimes people will even project that hatred outward.

in any case, if you've been reading along for awhile, you know how often i've used this space to speak on the process of re-integrating my self back to myself.

during my morning prayers, i cried--tears of frustration, longing, mourning.  but those tears made way for an important realization: today, i'm probably more fully integrated than i've been since childhood. i still have moments when i wonder how i'll be received, but i no longer fear myself or my power.

i took a deep breath and stood securely in the knowing that people, places, and circumstances of my life  always adjust to reflect my state of being.  as long as i follow the patterns and heed the signs, things run smoothly.   there is no reason for this phase to be any different.

gotta keep moving...
[again]

short memory, long history

in all the discussions about what's going on with black folks, i often hear references to things like post traumatic slave syndrome, the industrial prison complex, loss of identity and culture, etc.

i agree with these explanations, and we should definitely be aware of them.  however, what i rarely see woven into the conversation is the more recent history that has decimated our communities and placed gaping holes in our historical memories.

vietnam scarred our parents' generation and layered generalized PTSD onto our other wounds.  many were lost during the war, but we'll never know how many were lost in the streets after it.   

in the 80s, the crack epidemic and reganomics formed a perfect storm in urban america.

on its heels, the early days of AIDS wiped out scores of queer elders, simultaneously claiming the intravenous users crack left behind.

but even before all this, before integration and the civil rights movement, there was the destruction of places like rosewood and tulsa's black wall street.  we had our own businesses, banks, goods and services, schools and social supports. but when we got too good at it, we were often put back in our place.  

despite it all, we have survived and thrived. no doubt about that. still, when we start to wonder "what went wrong?" i think we can have a tendency to reach back a little too far for the answers.

the fact is, in the last 30-40 years, we've lost many--known and unnamed--who could still be singing songs, writing words, and painting pictures to inspire, enlighten and lead us.  mentors who could have ushered us over the ground we seem destined to endlessly retread--because we're leaving too young to tell our stories and share our gifts.

just a thought.

so when the scripts start running for the millionth time, stay mindful. dig deeper.

love energy

i was listening to an awesome radio show yesterday, and one of the hosts touched on the depth (or height, as it were) of the sacred energies created by a man and a woman dedicated to sacred relationship.

while i was glad there was no outright disparaging of same sex couples, it made me think of the energy i've observed with those relationships.

a few disclaimers: i'm staying within the binary because that's generally been my experience, at least to outer understanding.  also, i'm speaking from the standpoint of energy, not person-to-person dynamics as such. in other words, this is about what my "antenna" pick up when i strip away the "stuff" and get to the essence of the thing.  finally, for brevity's sake, i'm sticking to monogamy. 

i agree that man/woman complements create the highest vibration in the sense of creation, since this is the coupling where physical creation takes place. this is how the energy of loving comes together to create new, actual people. of course, that serves a crucial purpose.

womyn complements form an energy of creation in a different sense--art for art's sake, in a sense. there is an intimate, deep knowing, and a safety rarely seen in man/woman complements--with the possible exception of elder couples who have spent most of their lifetimes together.  womyn together seem to craft this space in far less time and at a younger age.  

complements involving two men form a cone of strength and manifestation. they emit amazing degrees of actualization, determination, drive and power. it is almost like being near the sun. i wonder if it is this drive, particularly when manifested by black men in relationship, that makes folks so uncomfortable.  because, you see, black men aren't supposed to be or do anything. put two of them together and in love, and...yeah.

this is why i've come to consider any intimate relationship rooted in a spirit of love, reciprocity,  respect, and mutual benefit as sacred, regardless of how the people in that relationship identify themselves.  it takes all kinds of energy to keep the world going 'round.


sidebar (or, blog 1.2): one of my major concerns is that there is an emphasis on tossing non-hetero relationships into the realm of abnormality or dysfunction--in ways both subtle and overt--with absolutely no analysis around the quality of relationships themselves.

yes, the "hedonistic gay man" can be a problem, but so can the straight "pimp/playa". making all hetero relationships automatically "ok" is highly problematic for its own reasons (see: marital rape apologia, domestic violence, and the acceptance of wholesale child abuse).  we have to become more aware of these dynamics so we do not fall into dangerous, false hierarchies that keep us separate from and oppressing one another.

the year of living single {part 3}

{if you're just joining us...part 1 and part 2}

being forced to dwell in the "inbetween" for so long and in so many respects has proven to me that precision, appellation, and specificity are not always the paths to understanding.

the japanese say flaws make things more beautiful. wabi-sabi.

there's also some quote floating around about the value in a cracked thing being its ability to allow light in.

that's how this phase of my life feels.

it is perfectly all right if things are incomplete, complicated, or blemished.  i can allow them to enter, sit with them awhile, then release them without committing myself to mending, untangling, or polishing.

in part,  the relationship has not emerged because i'm examining the beauty of the uncertain interim--and enjoying it.  the purpose has not arrived on a white horse, backed by fanfare and bearing gifts--at least not yet.  but nearly every day, i have a new strength to boast about. 

no matter what glittering temptation comes my way, my higher self and the entities that guide my steps and light my path give me the resolve to say "no" (or "yes"...) with perfect peace. 

i listen, and i am rewarded. 

that is in the agreement i made in orun.

i am wise enough to stick with what works, and refute what does not.

that is my gift.

the year of living single {part 2}

since i wrote this, i've been thinking...

intially, i thought giving voice to that milestone would throw me into lamentations, but it actually gave me a rush. it was empowering to acknowledge my triumphs as a non-tragic, single woman.

this morning, a sistafriend presented an exercise that got me thinking about the year ahead. my heart raced as i shared dreams i've been keeping close to my heart--some i hadn't even put into words until that moment.  as i crafted each sentence, i felt, deeply, that it was all completely possible and well within my grasp.

put another way, i'd been (un)consciously working, striving, crawling and struggling to get to the point where i could articulate that specific, blissful vision.  i'm still buzzing from it.

this energy, this momentum wouldn't exist if i were still pouring myself into the energy trap my relationship had become, or allowing a less-than-optimal relationship to do the same thing.

i am absolutely certain that i cannot settle for less than real love, partnership, and reciprocity.  period.

i'm looking forward to my future.  now more than ever.    

false media

{title track}

tonight i had a bit of an epiphany about competition-based reality shows. i'm sure i'm not the only one, but here goes:

if there are enough top models/top chefs/brilliant designers/gifted decorators (and the list goes on) to perpetuate several years worth of these shows, why does it matter who's the "top"?

now, i understand that there are prizes, career advancement opportunities and various other carrots at stake.  i also don't mean to imply that there's anything wrong with honing your craft and being the best at what you do.  that's a great thing.

but, beyond that...

it should be quite obvious that there is no dearth of beautiful women in the world, so why do we need a "top" model?  

if you can cook, and you enjoy cooking, why subject yourself to an insufferable prick of a man (or, at best, someone who enjoys playing that role), all manner of stress, and the scrutiny of millions of strangers just to "prove" how good you are?

see my point?

talent isn't rare.  giftedness isn't rare.*

there are many of us on this planet. each of us is born in a particular corner of said planet, with these gifts, talents, and abilities. 

please understand: expansion and exploration is a wondrous thing. i'm not saying spend your life in a one horse town if that's not what you want to do.  sometimes you're not born at home.  go out, see the world, have a great time.

but, in that world-seeing, if you find a niche that contains family, friends, joy and abundance, what does all the stress and the scrutiny matter?  what are the real reasons we get caught up in all this competition and hierarchical thinking?**

what's wrong with being an awesome force in your community, shining so brightly that you bring the world to you instead of forcing yourself on the world?

how many bloggers who make livings from the breakthroughs and breakdowns are living vicariously instead of using their talents to the fullest? conversely, what does it say when the only viable outlet for gifted satirists and social commentators is a sort of vicious voyeurism?

there is no need to create false hierarchies and artificially unattainable goals.  we have what we need.  

who has the audacity to tell us that we don't?  m.a.c.? nike? walmart?

please.  those things should be icing on the cake, not the alpha and omega of our lives.

let's get real. for real.


*dr. estes makes this point beautifully, often and well.

**i highly recommend reading yurugu.  one caveat: i do not see euro-descended folks in the 21st century as a monolith; i firmly understand that there are whitefolks who "get" it.  that said, "getting it" almost invariably involves an immersion in either an african culture or one (e.g. native american/indigenous, asian, etc) that is fewer degrees removed from humanity's ancient african ancestry.  also keep in mind that much of what we think of as "european culture" is western, anglo-saxon and/or northern european.  eastern europe and the moorish-influenced nations have some marked differences.   

outlier (cont)

the same facebook page linked to this piece later on. it's written by a yoruba woman and feels a little more comprehensive.

given this beginning, i'm gonna keep my eyes open for stories of the "other" women...

there's definitely more to this.

outlier

in today's internet travels, i came across this paper about sexuality in yoruba culture.

i enjoyed reading it, as i always enjoy further insight into yoruba culture in particular and african cultures in general. but i'm almost always left feeling like the odd woman out.*

as i've said before, i completely respect and honor the places and spaces of wife and mother. and the tenets of the yoruba ideal definitely feel more sane than 99% of the messaging we get growing up women of color in america.

but the "am i bad/wrong/weird/tainted??!?" stuff creeps up anyway...like, i wonder if i'd be "proper" even if i were raised within that context...and if i were "proper", i'd probably be very unhappy.

on the other hand, maybe i'd just need a "secret concubine" or two?

see, THOSE are the women i wanna know about...they feel like the ones i can relate to.

but i suppose they don't write papers...


*not that i have shit on gbltqi folks who are practically invisible in these discussions, and whose stories--even in cultures that were inclusive/accepting pre-european contact--have been eradicated, obscured, lied on/about or dismissed as folly.  i'm speaking personally as a cis, straight black woman since the author is outlining "my" ideal sensual life as a student and spiritual devotee of the culture.  hence, i chose not to delve into the problematic aspects of the gender binary, lack of queer/alternative perspective, etc as i've done elsewhere.  

however, i also read a great summation of the 4th annual africa conference on sexual health and rights today that touches on precisely those issues, as well as disability. 

kiddie dreams

i've been watching the olympics--as i'm wont to do when they come around--and all these visa (*blink*) commercials about olympians and their childhood dreams got me thinking: did i have those sorts of huge, grandiose thoughts as a little girl?  could they be a window into my purpose now?

obviously, it was nothing as singularly minded as mastering a sport or hobby.

but i did. 

whenever i watched the oscars, i'd practice/envision my acceptance speech.  for best original screenplay.*  

and i was always pretending to be interviewed about stuff.**   i expected that i would be important/cool/___ enough that folks would want to ask me questions about...something.

so...i should be a screenwriting actress who gives fabulous interviews.

i could live with that.


*in other words, when most little girls are probably dreaming about winning best actress, or at least being the star,  i'm sitting there thinking i'm gonna WRITE the best movie.  however, my mother maintains that i used to declare my desire to be an actress.  so maybe it was a little of both. 

**i still do, kinda (don't tell anyone...).  this is probably why i really like formspring.  somebody with that same childhood-based compulsion probably came up with it.

i'm a soldier in the army

every now and then, the perfect song comes out and fits right into your life...

i'm a soldier of love.

the first dozen times i listened, as the words started to emerge from the melody, i was captivated. 

i've been torn up inside / i've been left behind / tall i ride / i have the will to survive...pain. loss. memory. the struggle for sanity in the midst of rejection.

when she soars into i am love's soldier, then dips into i wait for the sound...

perfection.

sade's given us so many gifts...sweet taboos, bulletproof souls...and now she's channeled an anthem for those of us who didn't have a name until now. 

do we really have to wonder why we forgive her for abandoning us for decades at a time?

an unorthodox valentine

i've heard just about every compliment a woman would want to hear. and they were sincere...

i appreciated them all, whether musings on my intellect, my physical attributes, or something inbetween.

more than just sweet-talked, i have been genuinely loved, admired, sought after.

some stayed a few weeks, others a few years.

i'm grateful for the love i've had.

but, today, i'm longing for the love i've yet to find...

one day, two loves

it wasn't until today that i realized my grandfather and bob marley share a birthday.

they couldn't have less in common. LOL.

but i love them both.

thank you, pop-pop, for your love and your crochety old man-ness. for teaching me patience. and football. and, now, for your unwavering protection and guidance.

thank you, bob, for the music, the message, the love.

adupe ooo egun. iba ara t'orun. ase o.

underworld

as i stated my solstice prayers a few nights ago, i was reminded of the underworld journey...how necessary it can be to disappear from the world and dig deep for strength, knowledge, and power.

After several intense and painful experiences, Inanna is finally freed, thanks to the intervention of the God of Wisdom. On the path returning to the upper world, Inanna rediscovers, one by one, the things she discarded at each of the 7 gates. Each time she pauses to decide whether to keep the skill, belief or symbol of success, or leave it behind, in the process she discovers that even the few she chooses to bring back with her now have different meanings and functions. But, most important, when she re-emerges into her sunny courtyard, Inanna realizes that she is not only Inanna, she now is also her sister Ereshkigal. She has actually reclaimed a part of herself, and in doing so has become whole, wise, powerful and empathetic in a way impossible before she made the journey. [link & emphasis mine.  source]

i am here.
i am encouraged.
i am ready.

the integration continues...

{for more on this, check out anything tagged the list}

my current focus is integration and synthesis. i'm still discovering neglected bits and pieces of self that, once found, start outlining their needs and demanding space of their own.

mostly it feels daunting, but i should be excited. i mean, it is exciting, right?  i get to learn new things and move through the world with these wonderfully novel self-bits.  ultimately, that leads to more confidence and strength.

so why am i being so weird about it?

because it'll just make me weirder and set me apart, again.
because it might seem contradictory to some.
because TKON is ever busy and creeping in uninvited.


i'm far better than i used to be, but i still struggle with all of the above, determined to "fit in" to a bunch of bullshit that's not worth my attention. however, what's becoming increasingly obvious is that i fit in where i need to--with other brilliant, unique folks. and i'm meeting more of those people all the time.

i am immensely grateful for that.

maybe that's the key lesson in my last tarot reading: evolution is taking time, but it also comes naturally and continually to me.  my goals are taking shape, and separating from the dead weight was a priority. soon, i may even start "shedding" the 9-5 in favor of my lifework.

snakes shed their skin in order to grow.  they cannot become taller, and i don't think i've ever seen an overweight one. the only way to mark progress is to wiggle out of the old, dull shell and emerge anew.

all animals do that in some fashion, but snakes leave evidence. a snakeskin is a repository of information and power.  of course, the snake itself is elusive, but at least you can reconstruct its story.

my snakeskins are pages.

i suppose that's why i don't look back too much, especially when i'm journaling in longhand.

if i ever get interesting enough to warrant a memoir, someone else would have to write it.

"attraction" versus lesson-learning

lately it seems that many folks are clinging to the "you attract who/what you are" argument, particularly with regard to relationships.

i always want to interject with a, "yes, but...".

instead, i let it slide.

this is when it's great to have a blog.  

from where i sit, "you attract who you are" is a vast oversimplification at best.  at worst, it's a dangerous thought trap in a society that already does far too much victim blaming. 

of course it sounds perfect.  you keep meeting jerks?  well, you must deserve it on some level. keep finding mates who beat you? guess you need to get a black eye every now and then...but we all know it's not that simple.

i will concede this point: low self esteem leads to disastrous intimate relationships.  this is clear.  whether it's because you keep letting this one clean out your bank account or put up with the other's neglect hoping for a better day, if you don't believe you deserve the best, you won't get it.

on the other hand, what about the folks taking advantage of these self esteem issues?  where is their responsibility?  what healing do they need?  in a perfect world, those in need of some gentle uplift would be supported until they were ready to enter into relationship, appropriate emotional responses and boundaries intact.  instead, we have a predator/prey model that has folks ducking for cover, even if they might never be privy to the more extreme manifestations of the problem.*

in my understanding, interactions with others are lessons.  people enter your life for a reason, and your walk together speaks to that, whatever the outcome.  how many times have you heard about a relationship that should have been perfectly blissful, but wasn't because one or both parties were not doing the necessary work?  that's a lesson.

to use my own example, i didn't "attract" my last relationship because i hadn't done my work, although i definitely learned about a few tender spots in our time together.  it's likely he entered my life because i had started to feel i was ready for "the one".  same with him.

the difference?  i continually worked to be and maintain readiness and was open about my process; he worked in his own mind and shut me out.  i had the tools to deal with our issues and mine when they arose; more often than not, he didn't.   

then there's the money and success angle.  i.e., you can't have "broke" friends if you're tryin to ball.  well, my answer to that would be, "what does 'broke' mean?"

i can tell you right now, i don't think i have one materially rich friend.  but i have many friends and acquaintances who are billionaires in heart, spirit, intellect, and character.  i wonder how difficult it would be to find those qualities if i decided to go out and get some financially secure friends.  trust me, i've been around my nouveau riche, upwardly mobile peers, and i couldn't stand them.  i had very little in common with them on any level, even though i grew up middle class myself. 

just goes to show what gets rewarded these days.

in a time and place such as this, with so many supposed quick fixes and instant solutions, you don't often hear about the deep work of healing.  those of us committed to that path will often attract those in need of healing and must be ready to draw the appropriate lines in the sand.  one way to avoid sending out homing signals to the wounded is to get very, very specific about what we ask for.

so, instead of "you attract who you are", i would offer that it's more accurate to say, you get what you ask for, consciously or unconsciously--which i have always seen hold true.

if that's what the "you attract..." crowd really means, great.  i just cringe a little when i think of what hearing that does to the most vulnerable hearts among us, and how it lets some bullies off the hook. 



*e.g, someone who's afraid to date 'cause everyone's a potential serial killing, sti-bearing, low down cheating monster according to the nightly news and dateline nbc exposés. never mind that these elements may not even be a significant factor in their communities.

goin thru some thangs...

it hasn't been easy over here lately...

i'm walking a really fine line between going full out and just keeping it all in...trying to be the shepherd and killing every mf'er in the room.

it's truly not easy.

i know that, ultimately, i am in the process of being and becoming something better than what i was.  i am evolving and choosing freedom and power over the crumbs i was offered.

i'm trying to hold on to that. 

last july, i was thinking... (an unreleased draft)

yes, i am fiercely independent. even as an infant i wouldn't let my mother hold me too long before i fussed to be put down.

i enjoy trying to get somewhere on my own before i ask for help--i'm not sure why.

maybe because i've always been assured of a safety net. i know help will be there if i really, truly need it, so i don't sweat the small stuff. or cry wolf.

because my heart was broken too early.

because, somewhere in there, i'm a warrior.

because i can.

better or worse, it is who i am.

over time, i've learned that's something a woman's not supposed to be. 'cause men need to be needed, you know. if they're not being big, bad wolfy providers standing guard at the door day and night, they just don't know what to do with themselves.

to hell with tenderness, time, passion, or pleasure.

to hell with getting to know me inside out
or learning to speak my langage (and teaching me yours)
or discovering my deepest needs and desires.

i mean, sure, you'll rake the lawn and wash the dishes without being asked...and i'm not knocking that. at all.

but it goes so much deeper...

i saw love yesterday

...and it nearly stopped my heart.

it was so obvious and open.

somehow, when i saw those two people together, it slammed into me.

this is what was missing. this is what i've been hoping for.