long-time readers will be familiar with the evolution and incarnations of the goddesspace. it started out as a sort of eclectic, crystal-centric space devoted to the divine feminine.
phase two was lovely, but short lived. i never really took to the space, and the end of summer ushered in a strange, difficult phase.
so i started again. the initial idea was great, the execution mediocre.
just as i started to birth the space, money got tight and inspiration waned. but as i've been able to give name and form to the shifts i've been experiencing over the last few weeks, the fog lifted and i could finally give the space the time and attention it deserved (i'm sure the new moon energy didn't hurt, either)...
plenty of light, color, and quartz. triangles enhance energy.
feathers...beauty, expansion, warmth; a reminder to keep the spirit light and prepared for flight.
i'm hoping that this one will last at least as long as the first, if not longer.
typically the "self love" posts are more about imagery than words, but inspiration led me to take some good but "too hot for blogger" shots, so i won't be going there.
but i can say that i gained a new appreciation for the ridges and ripples my lovers enjoy.
i got a view of my tummy that made me want to kiss it.
i learned that maybe i shouldn't be so critical of the slope of my breasts; they look very different from outside angles.
my thighs aren't as fat as i think they are.
twisted and turned a certain way, i am full of mountains, valleys, hills and waterfalls.
one shot put me in mind of a melting golden candle.
Today's Writing Prompt: Transportation Describe your primary mode of transportation. Do you wish it was different?
these days i'm always on the commuter rail, so yeah, i wish it were different. i enjoy driving more, but...the environment. i wish i could fly or glide or sometimes i think i'd even prefer a bike. i mean, what's better than the wind in your hair? but then... the cars and the exhaust. blah. but yeah. flying would be really, really dope. definitely.
i think i'm coming down with another one of those writing compulsions. but i don't know what to write about. that's when it gets particularly frustrating.
there are all these amorphous forms filling up my head. glimmers of ideas or feelings or word arrangements trying to manifest themselves, but with no clear channel for expression.
i suppose i'm the channel, but i don't know exactly what i'm supposed to do.
i can't always be taken over. i don't always have the time.
then again, i can't always shake off the impulse, either.
physically, i'm fine. i.e., i don't feel like some massive cleansing is in order.
spiritually, i'm in some kind of spin cycle.
emotionally, i'm stronger, but still a little fragile. like cooling caramel.
...and there was more, but i got distracted.
y'all have no clue how thankful i am for this five day weekend...
time is still blurring hopelessly. it's all i can do to keep myself on task at work. i won't even speak on the house. even coworkers have expressed a general difficulty keeping focus this week.
last night i came home to a disturbed house and barely got to sleep.
the squirrels are in the kitchen walls again. i know they can't get in--and even if they did, they'd have the cat to deal with--but the scratching is maddening.
i'm back to thinking about moving, but will the money be there? probably only if i get that second job...
i have a cake to bake. twists to redo. a new goddaughter to see. bills, bills, bills. i need some water.
the snowflakes were pretty this morning...
i think i need a break. maybe run to the bank and the grocery store. i want to scrub the kitchen floor and do a quick spiritual cleanse of the whole place. burn more incense. i think i'll feel better then.
now, as i've said before, i'm about as much of a conspiracy theorist as any other black person in america. however:
(1) if all this illuminati stuff is not (or only partially) true, it's irresponsible to keep tossing it into the wind and
(2) if it IS true, where's the outrage? was there ever a time when we weren't "sheeple"? and, if we know less now than we used to, what changed? were there people who knew about this stuff? what happened to them? how long ago? what about in the rest of the world? are we all idiots?
and, most importantly, where are the solutions? no one ever talks about that.*
plus, it's painfully obvious that enough people don't know (or don't care) to combat these illuminati people, so aren't we all screwed anyway?
i feel the same way about 2012. if it is, in fact, the end of the world due to some cosmic catastrophe and the only way to avoid it is to get off the planet, three years can't save us. the technology's not there, and if it is, only a select few know about it anyway.**
bottom line is, i suppose i question the motives of shock jock conspiracy theorists as much as i do those of the ruling elite.
so, if you're into this sort of thing, feel free to drop me a line. maybe i'm missing something...
*zeitgeist is a notable exception. i recommend it to anyone who's interested in this kind of stuff as a far less alarmist, even handed treatment of the topic.
**personally, i agree with those who say 2012 is meant to usher in the start of a new age of humanity, i.e. spiritual, social and psychological evolution, not the "end of the world". as far as catastrophes are concerned, i'm more worried about the ones tied to global warming than anything that might happen when the planets line up. not to say a big ass comet couldn't hit the planet, but, again, what can we really do about that?
no collectors calling me self awareness knowing when to buy a cookie for sanity's sake rose quartz culinary skills fresh sheets resourcefulness sometimes just not giving a fk
...is one of those days when i feel held together by gossamer fairy wings, radish beams and duct tape.
somehow i wound up leaving the house, basically only because i couldn't think of an excuse good enough to warrant not coming in to work (damned work ethic...), despite feeling like my soul was caving in.
the ancestors said they were gonna get me through the day, so i'll have to trust in that. right now, it's the only thing keeping me upright anyway.
i love y'all. i really do. but y'all ain't runnin shit.
i understand where you're coming from, but until we have a multiple-party system in this country that reflects the actual diversity of opinion and politics in this country, your message will not be effectively heard.
we've been falling through the cracks too long, and these days counterculture is almost a joke.
don't get me wrong; largely, i agree with you. politically, i'm about as far left as you can get without falling off the continuum. i am a practitioner of traditional african spirituality. i was raised to trust and love my people above all else. i am anti-war, anti-capitalism, and try to remain cognizant of the role of all sentient beings i share the planet with.
but i am also aware that that is not the consciousness that founded, established, and/or runs this nation. and, since it is a nation founded on a european, judeo-christian foundation, it may never be.
i believed the cia put crack into our communities and that 9/11 was a fixed game long before either conspiracy theory became popular (y'all just wait on that 9/11 one...it'll take awhile...). i never supported this mess in iraq. i know my leaders often lie to, cheat, and steal from me--whether i vote for them or not.
but when we have a chance, even if it's a small one, to show the world what more liberal, inclusive, and equitable leadership looks like, we've gotta take it. even if it means taking one for the shitstem.
i know good and hell well obama is not the messiah, and never thought he was. i don't even believe in a messiah--but that's another post.
he doesn't share my history or even my bloodlines, although, presumably, his wife may.
besides, even if he's as different as we're hoping he is--and i'm starting to think he just might be--he's not gonna be able to fix this mess in 4-8 years, 'cause it wasn't made in 4-8 years.
...but neither would mccain.
that said, there are times where you recognize the need to compromise on the macro level in order to make it easier to do what you do on the micro level.
i am not an activist, and don't claim to be. i have love for all of you who feed the community, who raise money and run education campaigns for political prisoners, who tear down this system brick by brick, and who lose life and limb to do so.
but i do see this particular election as a real chance to finally, possibly, have efforts like yours see the light of day. it's already becoming clearer to the mainstream that mobilizing the grassroots is how you truly effect change and get things done.
that's why obama pisses them off--the energy behind his campaign, ideas and platform are reminding us ALL of that fact, and it's imploding reaganomics, the bush administration's lies, and everything in between.
...just like y'all knew it would.
have you noticed that they're finally paying attention? all the misunderstandings, rumor, and innuendo going around about obama that make it painfully obvious that they don't know black folk too well, even after 400-some-odd years?
it's finally sinking in: we're here, we're not going anywhere, and neither are all the other black, brown, yellow and red people they tried to keep under the heels of their boots.
and, horror of horrors, we might even rise up and wind up running their precious, lily white, city-on-a-hill nation.
brothers & sisters, i know you don't "believe" in this thing, but by the will of the universe, we've come to live in it, and most of us are uni-lingual, monocultural products of it, no matter how much marx, fanon, diop, and marimba ani we read.
that doesn't mean it's fair. doesn't mean it's right. doesn't mean that our ancestors don't deserve justice.
it just means that change comes in a multitude of manifestations, and sometimes you've gotta look beyond your usual horizon.
so, even if you've never voted before, i hope you vote(d) today.
i feel like i'm in the midst of one of those challenging transitions where i need a lot of quiet.
there's a constant sense of work, strategy, maneuvering.
it's imperative that i keep my spaces clean and clear. clutter equals stress, and dirt is especially irritating.
time is precious and needs to be rationed wisely.
my body's changing again. i'm not sure how to feel about it. my mother told me once that my father's sister--whom i resemble pretty closely--suddenly started to slim down around 30, despite having at least one, if not two, of her daughters by then.
on the other hand, there are folks around me with far more pressing issues...hence, i'd feel almost silly complaining.
but...stress is stress. and i'm trying to keep mine from becoming too overwhelming.
ok. so i got blasted with this song not too long ago during a random encounter with an urban radio station...
if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it?
the feminist in me cringed immediately. why does a sensual relationship between two consenting adults have to involve undertones of ownership, constant power struggles, and a tax break in order to be deemed acceptable?*
my enjoyment of and/or emotional connection to a man has no bearing on whether or not he finds me desirable enough to "put a ring on it".
when i want to be monogamous, i am. when i don't, i'm not. and i'm not gonna beg a commitment from anyone who obviously is not content with lil ol' me.
so. fast forward to earlier this week when someone sent a link to this video, giving me the opportunity to listen to the song beginning to end.
it still made my feminist bones ache, but i was forced to make a confession.
she had a point.
as someone who's been in the position of feeling like a man is wasting your time and your precious divine energy by failing to make a commitment beyond sexual fidelity, it does ring true.
you don't want to see me with anyone else? don't bore the hell outta me. you want to avoid a shattered ego? make a move.
while i don't think it's a good idea to go flaunting new dude in front of old dude when his numbers are barely deleted from your SIM card, there is definitely something to be said for losing your place in line.
brothas, please note: we will not wait for you forever--despite what we might say to you when we're deeply in love--and the farther we are from, say, 18 or 21, the more we mean that.
we all know the man who's been on some, "yeah...i cheated once or twice, and i don't never call when i'm gonna be out late with the fellas and i banged up her car that one time, BUT SHE AIN'T HAVE TO LEAVE ME!!" this song is for you.
[sidenote: a recent conversation with the ex noted that brothas are, slowly but surely, stepping up 'cause, "we sense y'all are gonna take our sweet honey away." to which i replied, "GOOD."]
and, to be fair, there are the usual dangers of the wrong women making this their anthem. specifically, ones who wanna use songs like this to avoid looking in the mirror and facing their own knee-high bullshit. or the ones who just want to perpetuate unnecessary forms of drama. sistagirl, that ain't cool.
so, ms. carter, if this is truly intended to be a call for the (fully grown) sistas who've done the work and put in the time to tell their mates to step up or step off, i'm with you.
...feelin' the choreography, too. word to bob fosse.
*to be clear, i am not anti-marriage. i believe that a deep, spiritually and temporally committed union supported by family, friends and loved ones is totally possible and wondrous. i am, at heart, a serial monogamist. it is the judeo-christian institution full of "submission", "helpmeets", and other disparate notions of gender inequality, authority, and further perpetuation of the nuclear family myth/pod--in situations where that family structure is inherently dismissive of community--that pisses me off.
honestly? i am pissed that we are even bandying about these elementary ass issues that every other industrialized, western nation has done something about or acted like fking GROWN UPS on...on paper at the very least.
we need to get on the ball, and fast. this is really not helping anybody. we're so far behind, it's not even funny.
one of the most pointed things that obama did was speak about looking 10 years down the line.
that's the energy we need, not a symbol of the breed that's dying in state and parliment houses all over the world.
thinking only about the next 4-8 years and then expecting that to garner some kind of change is ridiculous, at best.
get a grip.
vote for whoever you want to--we're not gonna get outta this mess in less than a decade (or more) anyway. may even take a generation. and i'm sure you can already guess where i'm leaning.
but we need to take a good, long look at what we're doing and what we're turning into. and if we wanna make it better, we need to start thinking like big boys and girls, not infantile automatons fueled on xenophobic fear, soundbites, and walmart goods.
it's been a rough few weeks, and the sudden onset of pms isn't helping.
i was feeling kinda blah this morning when i boarded the bus. but then i looked up and saw the full moon still high in the sky. the sunrise was at my back.
i briefly acknowledged and gave thanks for the sun's rainbow sherbert display, but turned back to the moon to ask for strength.
something in the cloud pattern took me back to august when i sat on the beach with yemonja. that morning, i could also see the moon and sun together.
almost immediately, i felt blessed beyond measure. my trials are simply an ebo, and it's temporary.
i've been stating my needs a lot lately...probably a good time to count my blessings...
unexpected encounters good friends mint tea love my cooking skills a body that's pretty healthy even when it's sick-ish a cat that kills nasty, icky bugs cheap(er) grocery stores a working car sick time a comfortable bed w/ lots of pillows being able to do laundry @ mom's house
i'm finding that i'm surrounded by love, but in a strange-bedfellow sort of way.
i am not in love. but i do have several of my needs met.
i feel adored, cherished, and loved. still, i can admit that i only have about 1/2 (good day), 1/3 (not so good day), or none (bad day) of what i really want.
as the days get shorter and colder, i know that summer exuberance will give way to my cold-weather cocoon. meeting people will be much lower on my totem pole when staying warm, soup, and new year's conjuring become priorities.
do i want to cast one more love spell before the leaves turn? should i pack it up until spring?
eh.
i've got a lot on my mind, but i should probably lie down awhile...
all last week, before the cold grabbed me, i'd been feeling like i really needed to cry, let loose. but it's extremely difficult for me to release without a catalyst. crying often requires a logical progression of carefully controlled environmental factors.
i tricked myself into all this a long time ago. as a good little girl who didn't want to get anyone into trouble, i got exceptionally good at hiding my pain.
i had rules:
if you must cry, only cry when you know you're utterly alone.
if you're caught, say it's about something else.
talk to the dolls, your angels, and god.
breathe deeply. inhale the tears.
in a pinch, push it all down into your stomach (note: remember not to eat for a few hours after this trick)
all that sort of thing.
not only did i get good at hiding my feelings from other people, i became proficient at hiding them from myself. i learned that it could be hard to hide the tears when i couldn't stop the ugly thoughts rushing through my mind. sometimes i had to get up early. or stay up late. i didn't have time.
mostly, i just put my fingers in my ears and refused to listen. and more of that stomach-pushing.
occasionally i took it out on a boyfriend or lover, or cloaked it in a dream like haze to take the edge off. the most benign option: find a way to fictionalize it and write it out.
these were my survival tactics and, as such, have been difficult to relinquish.
the very idea of letting go, showing weakness--even when i'm alone--can terrify me.
some part of me is stuck in time, holding back that huge dam of black water that threatens to overtake and kill me if i let it out.
but i know better. the water's been drained, purified, redirected, released. the pain is not what it was. i am not who i was.
lately, these kinds of revelations are coming in waves. i know it's part of a push to revert me back to my true(st) self, but even that's laced with fear. it's a self i don't quite remember.
i cannot begin to explain how difficult it is to consciously remember what i was "before". i used to think my cloudy memories were simply a manifestation of how i process information. now i wonder if it's really a symptom of the neutralization of so many powerful, life-altering feelings.
hm.
apparently, when i was younger, i used to say i wanted to grow up to be an actress.
it'd be interesting to see what i could do on a stage with all this real-life training...
i've been having some really interesting conversations lately...
one thing that came up today was the notion of calling folks on the jeezus train** "stupid".
while i saw his point, i hesitate to call anyone "stupid" for their faith. i could easily be called a lot of things for killing a chicken.
but...i'd definitely call it "misinformed".
it's my firm opinion that any time your god has you suffering on the planet s/he supposedly put you on, something's wrong. something's also wrong when just about any and everything that feels good/right is arbitrarily forbidden. for everyone. (e.g., premarital sex is WRONG, even if you're not a sex addict, even if you're in love and monogamous, even if it's a mutual source of comfort and connection, etc.)
bottom line: i could care less if you pray by standing on your head and shouting "shabadoo!" 10 times a day...but you better have food on your table and your kids better have a future.
if you're more worried about what's going to happen after you die than how you're living right now, that's just plain anti-common sense.
but it's a damned good way to keep "the people" down and out.
**there was reference to another convo about the difference between baby jesus and grown ass man jesus.
baby jesus is a good way to make folks take all the crap you throw at them...meek and mild and rosy cheeked and all that. christmas stories in hushed tones. but folks who can look grown jesus in the face understand that he was a man who was a political prisoner, revolutionary, sorcerer (let's be real), and--word to sarah palin--a community organizer.
followers of baby jesus tend to be, well, a lot more binary in their thinking. everything's black and white. all the social justice/liberally minded christians i've known have had a lot more to say about GAM jesus.
what i thought was just a simple, stress induced sore throat turned into a sinus attack/cold that's had me in bed (well, on the couch...easier to sleep sitting up there) practically all weekend.
if you're on the east coast, double up on that vitamin c. i know folks who are sick in DE, PA, DC...something's coming in w/ the change of seasons.
i came up with the term after seeing my best friend interact with her first child. there were little phrases they exchanged, strings of ridiculous baby talk in the middle of supposedly adult conversations, tearful first days at school (i STILL don't quite get that one...), etc.
mommy moments can happen anywhere and at any time. sometimes they're cute, other times they mean your doom (e.g., the look).
they can even happen once you're grown and no longer living at home...
i was in the middle of the most gangsta shakespeare play i'd ever seen when my mom called. a little girl in a commercial had just reminded her of me as a child. she gushed over how sweet i was, that i was a calming influence on the whole house.
but the sweetest thing was her saying, "i don't know what i did to deserve you."
i basically sat there with my mouth open. i thanked her, but honestly? i was just getting to the good part of the movie, and i can take my mother's sentimental spells for granted. so my reaction was largely, "um...ok...thanks?" and some nervous laughter.
but, i'm gonna have to thank her today, 'cause that was a really nice thing to hear. there are a lot of folks who either wish they could relive those mommy moments, or long to witness one from their own mother.
those moments are how i learned what i was like as a child, and how much of that little girl has remained with me. it's also nice that she's accepted the adult version of me because i was "always special".
she paid enough attention to notice all of that and nurture it, so i'm very grateful.
truthfully, i don't know what i did to deserve her, either.
According to this definition, Sarah Palin does, indeed, have ‘executive experience.’ And so does every other governor and mayor in this country. But, I ask you, are all mayors and governors now qualified to be vice president of these United States?*
The obvious answer to this question is ‘no, all mayors and governors are not qualified to be vice president of these United States.’
And this is the point where McCain surrogates and supporters retort: “but, she has MORE executive experience than Obama does!”
And that makes about as much sense as comparing Palin’s qualifications to McCain’s. By the measure of ‘executive experience,’ McCain is less qualified to lead the U.S. than Palin. She’s also much more dynamic, and less likely to die in office. Perhaps she should be at the top of the ticket?
Some people believe that the years Obama spent as a constitutional law professor at a top university, as an Illinois state senator, and as a U.S. senator aren’t equal to Palin’s years on a small city council, mayor of a city with a population of 6,000, and (20 months) as governor of the 47th largest state in the union. Some people think that Obama’s experience outweighs Palin’s.
i walked in hoping i'd be able to get down some thoughts and feelings, but i can't seem to form the words yet. everything is just too amorphous and full of pure emotion and feeling...
but i am happy and grateful.
the universe is conspiring to revert me to my fuller-than-full, brazen hussy, flirtatious, bliss-creating, pleasure-loving self.
if you've been paying attention, you know i'm not christian. you also may have picked up that i'm not really fully subscribed to the institution of matrimony.
however, this video speaks to me.
she reminds me of baby suggs preaching in the clearing.
the power of the crone, the elder. the way(s) we instinctively understand how to bring spirit into our midst.
it's obvious that some force came down to bless this union--or, at the very least, to impart some wisdom to those involved. whether it was a powerful ancestor, an angelic force, or the all-encompassing holy spirit, it's beautiful to witness.
so now the evil little thoughts have started to seep in...
"oh god...what happens if he decides he doesn't like me??" "i can't keep going with this...i might get hurt!" "he might say 'no'..." "this feels too nice..."
*record scratch*
hold up.
this is not me.
since my healing began 13 years ago, i have been blessed with the ability to be near fearless in love, lust, and everything in between.
however, spending most of my 20s in an almost incessant cycle of karma breaking and lesson learning gave me a pretty decent case of amnesia.
i'd almost forgotten that risks are good...and important.
besides, my heart could very well be approaching unbreakable status. one gift of my struggle has been a near seamless internalization of reason-season-lifetime.
i am secure in my love of spirit and love of self. that, by extension, makes me secure in all things.
i can love without labels, give without remorse, and spread honey and glitter with abandon. i can share this wonderment with whomever i choose.
and so what if i happen to shed a few tears along the way? being human, it's easy to forget what i (deeply) know.
what's key is that i come back to this place, every time. because i've done the work. because i know.
thus, i was able to soothe myself: "honey, if he doesn't want you, then he's not the one. for every 'no' he could possibly say to you, you'll hear 'yes' in a hundred different ways. and it feels good because it's supposed to."
*if you are out of touch with your womb/clitoris/sexual energy, try connecting to some online information like this, books like the clitoral truth, or a gynocentric sex shop like babeland. and, if necessary, don't be afraid of support groups and individual therapy.
**iba yemonja. so often, my healing comes from water. i could never have felt this wonderful without her healing waters. adupe o for washing my feet and accepting my offerings. olugbe-rere ko, olugbe-rere ko, olugbe-rere ko. gbe rere ko ni olu-gbe-rere. ase.
maferefun oshun, latojoku awede we mo. my mother, my heart, the source of all my bliss. i give thanks and i honor you, always. ore yeye o! ase.
working downtown incense yummy salads ritual casamena's podcasts chocolate chip cookies downtime @ work digital cameras cool breezes family bedroom windows mango scented soap release pandora radio tea lights sister circles friends dreams health benefits my womb words knowing when to write "no send" letters ...and knowing when to write AND send water pocket money
ok. so it'd be fantastic to have a baby, right? because, for me, that would mean that i'm in a stable, loving relationship that's reached a point of consciousness, maturity, and connectedness where a physical and spiritual example of that love has come into existence.
all good.
on the other hand, most days i'm glad that i was not born with a consciousness that made motherhood central to my sense of full womanhood.
let me be clear: i am not anti-reproduction. i love children. i have friends who are brilliant mothers. i adore my godchildren. i believe motherhood is a calling--just like nursing, teaching or the priest(ess)hood--therefore, (a) women who are not called to it are not traitors to their reproductive organs and (b) forcing a non-mother into motherhood is the fastest way to drive a woman insane.
...but because so many of us ARE raised to feel like traitors if we are unsure about babies--in ways subtle and overt--it can be frightening what some women are willing to do, say and put up with just to fit the cultural norm of a good, acceptable woman. in the black community, i fear that it may be part of what's killing us.
i really don't understand how people are raising daughters to be good, quiet, prolifically reproducing helpmeets in the 21st century.
i'm not saying we don't need intimate relationships. we do. i just think that we're a generation (or more) behind in redefining heterosexual relationships and gender roles so that they work for us and not against us.
because of all the patriarchal, capitalist bullshit we're fed--by the stuff around us if not in our homes--the subconscious and not-so-subconscious message is still that the man has to be in charge and whoever brings home the cash has the power. sigh.
y'all, there's a reason for that poster saying capitalism isn't healthy for children and other living things. and there are all kinds of gifts and power that money will never buy.
all this makes me wonder what family structures were really like before colonization, industrialism, capitalism, and international superpowers, particularly in communities of color. with all being in divine order, sometimes i wonder if we're experiencing a return to something the history books never told us. that this isn't a "breakdown" in some respects, but a transition.
however, it's a transition that the powers that be are afraid, unwilling, and/or ill prepared to support.
in any case, i'm thankful each and every day that my parents raised me to be independent, self-directed, and forward thinking. that my mother could be an opinionated, intelligent woman and my father loved and respected her for it. that they worked together to illustrate how their individual strengths combined to make a stronger unit, independent of genitalia.
even if i never have a baby or get married, at least i have an excellent notion of the way it should be done.
and if not buying the bullshit kicks me out of the running, so be it.
on the other hand, hearing she's an israelite got my TKON antenna up...but more on that later.
first of all, i don't expect her to elaborate too much within 4 minutes. and i appreciate her honesty here. that's a reality for many of us (and men as well).
i think that this sista and i have some things in common. we are both lovers of our people, desiring of love, peace, and joy, trying to make our way in this crazy, crazy world. she's obviously a beautiful, intelligent woman, and i appreciate her being brave enough to speak her truth.
secondly, anyone who reads this blog probably knows by now that i don't understand how anyone takes anything in the bible literally.* it makes far more sense as metaphor. i tend to compare literal (mis)understandings of the bible to a group of folks finding a mangled copy of the matrix trilogy 1000 years from now, trying to fill in the plot holes, and calling it the one true religion.
that said...
"blame the feminists" does not and never has flown with me. anyone who has ever seriously researched the movement easily discovers that the feminism this sista alludes to (particularly in its nascent stages) had SHIT to do with women of color. in fact, most white women leaders were neglectful towards, if they didn't outright shun, women of color.
women of color were forced to develop a parallel movement based on their own issues which some later called womanism. black, chicana, latina/hispanic, and native american women have always had different relationships to their men, and the movement for liberation often included things like resisting domestic violence, condemning the criminalization of their men and upholding their culture, language, and family structure.
black women may not have needed to be "liberated" from our men, but we did (and still do) need to liberate ourselves and our mates from the racism, classism, and sexism that plague our lives. again, history tells us that our men did not feel the need to lead women around by their necks until they were influenced by the followers of abraham.
i do agree that there are plenty of sweet, loving, wonderful sistas who act as the embodiments of nurturing, sweetness, compassion, and love. i'm one of them. but i don't see the problem with being "independent", particularly in this day and age.
the statistics are what they are, and the damage has been done. if our mates are late showing up to our lives, should we remain lonely, broke, and unfulfilled in the meantime? if we heal and come into our full selves, we can support and love our brothers while also saying, "come to me ready, or not at all" until they take charge of their own healing processes.
that, to me, is not counterrevolutionary, harsh, or "against god". the consequences of the dance of wounded souls are apparent each and every day. there are too many babies being born to parents who are ill prepared to care for, love, and nurture them. we need to stop, look, listen, and HEAL before we usher the ancestors back into the world.
the socioeconomic separation of black women and men is/was perpetuated by the white supremacist system that viewed women as less threatening (and allowed them to slip under the economic radar with things like domestic work & hair care) and criminalized the men.
i agree that we have fallen into the trap of keeping up with our WASP-y neighbors, but even that wasn't possible until the mid-late 60s and integration. before that, segregation--with all its ills--offered a social, economic, spiritual, and intellectual isolation that actually assisted the black community in many ways.
i just sighed at the commentary on lesbians. sexual abuse and the lack of understanding between the sexes that the author herself alludes to are probably far more salient factors in chosen homosexuality--which i think is blown largely out of proportion by similarly minded folks--than a lack of trust/faith in the black man.
sexuality is a continuum, gender roles are socially/culturally assigned, and some of us are just born that way. the faster we can accept those truths, the better.
having seen a lot of male israelites and very few of their women, i take many of their missives with a heavy dose of salt. i'd be reluctant to join up with any group that seems to only involve women as an afterthought and/or as a mere accompaniment to the male backbone of the organization.
*steps off soapbox*
thanks for your time.
*i do believe that the old testament was meant to be taken literally, HOWEVER, it was also speaking to the very specific culture, law and mores of a particular group of people. that group was pretty small, and most african ppl at the time didn't have jack to do with it. it's also quite difficult to understand in the absence of complete study of the torah (some of that's oral, y'all) and other jewish scriptures.
the new testament is a series of esoteric metaphors, largely meant for initiates. based on what i've seen/read, it was not taken literally in its day and should not be now. if you can dig deep enough to get to the meaning behind the metaphor, be my guest. but it's been my experience that the "keys to the kingdom" are far more accessible in metaphysical systems such as yoga, hinduism, orisa, vodou, akan, native american/indigenous spirituality, etc., and that's why they are perceived as a threat.
"Here," she said, "in this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard... And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you!"
~Baby Suggs, from Beloved
massage training helped me gain a new appreciation for hands and touch.
according to my mother, i have my grandmother's hands...that's always fascinated me since those are the only parts of her i remember with any certainty.
these days, i feel like they spend a lot of time covered in shea butter, palm oil, or dishwater.
i started in on another pity party today, and decided enough was enough.
i started looking online for techniques for releasing anger, and found this.
it's a brief, but very effective ritual. i modified it a little according to my intuition (e.g., i found it necessary to cool/clear the energy after the release), but i'm glad that i found it now that the moon is waning. it's an excellent time to remove and lift things that are no longer serving, so that i can start fresh with the new moon at the end of the month.
i heard a bunch of kids playing outside last night, and it kinda made me feel a way about how things could have been.
i often find myself torn between the joyous freedom and flexibility of my kid-free life, and the wonder i feel around the experience of pregnancy, birthing and mothering.
but, all things considered, i've decided that kids are, at best, optional. at worst, they're a statistical improbability.
ok, so, i got chasing amy from netflix recently, seeing as it's one of those movies that everyone kept telling me i had to see.
my relationship with kevin smith had a rocky start. i was in my late h.s./early college years when he was putting out clerks and mallrats. cosmo tried to get me into his stuff, but...i simply wasn't feeling it. i recall him attempting to indoctrinate me during a lazy saturday afternoon in bed. about 10 minutes into mallrats, i demanded that he "turn this shit off".
now, with a little more life experience and a slightly modified sense of humor, i'm cool with smith. i loved dogma on sight, and he's probably one of the few people who's stuff i'd throw down $8-10 to see, no questions asked.
so, back to chasing amy.
the whole madonna/whore dichotomy has always pissed me off. when holden made his plea to alyssa in the car, my heart melted. i started thinking of how much i miss being in love, those first stirrings of knowing that this person is just wonderfully right for you (at least for now...lol), and building up to the first moment you let them know. the honesty, the passion, all that romantic shit.
and then he finds out--via an infantile, sexually frustrated, hatin ass so-called best friend--that the girl has a "past" and throws it all away.
...only to wise up later.
dumbass.
having been on alyssa's end of this latent male wisdom, i'm sorry i didn't see this sooner. it might have cushioned some of the blows i've gotten since.
i would rant and rave over where hayden got off blasting alyssa for living a little, but i know where he got off.
just like i know where banky got off with his the-man-doth-protest-too-much homophobia.
praise be to my mom & dad, i don't know what it's like to be uptight about just about every bodily function and every position that ain't missionary. but a lot of folks do--and are still living there well into adulthood.
hence hayden's hangups and inability to cope with alyssa--who, to me, embodied the free-wheeling, no holds barred feminine principle.
the movie touches on the ways in which sons are guided while daughters are either imprisoned or left to fend for themselves (e.g. alyssa's parents never being home). our desires are worthless, fleeting, and/or inconsequential.
boys get to take over the world while girls walk around in a daze wondering why they're here at all--unless it's to get the boys, who are in charge, to like them.
alyssa's what happens when (a) the "good girl" type isn't properly internalized and (b) the boys don't matter so much.
and men wonder why their girlfriends don't tell them shit. 90% of y'all couldn't handle it if we did.
what alyssa (and the proverbial amy) said was true: if we want you, we want you. all the other stuff doesn't matter.
we have to find ourselves just like you do, only there's no "wrong" way for men to do so.
kudos to smith for turning this stuff on its head and bringing it to the light of day as, i suppose, only a good catholic boy could do.
menfolks: i love y'all, i swear i do, but PLEASE find a way to handle the egos. thanks.
Beauty queen of only eighteen She had some trouble with herself He was always there to help her She always belonged to someone else
I drove for miles and miles And wound up at your door I've had you so many times but somehow I want more
I don't mind spending everyday Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved She will be loved
Tap on my window knock on my door I want to make you feel beautiful I know I tend to get so insecure It doesn't matter anymore
It's not always rainbows and butterflies It's compromise that moves us along, yeah My heart is full and my door's always open You can come anytime you want
I don't mind spending everyday Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved
I know where you hide Alone in your car Know all of the things that make you who you are I know that goodbye means nothing at all Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls
Tap on my window knock on my door I want to make you feel beautiful
I don't mind spending everyday Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved
[in the background] Please don't try so hard to say goodbye Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Yeah [softly] I don't mind spending everyday Out on your corner in the pouring rain
somewhere between last night and this morning, i came back.
lately, i'm aware of these gray spells...spontaneous underworld excursions that twist me and turn me until i'm nearly exhausted.
and then i come back.
suddenly the dreams and whispers make sense. i don't feel like i'm walking in a haze or trying to see through a barely transparent veil.
i'm joyful, comforted, and comforting. prayers are answered.
it all seems to be related to the moon...when it goes dark, so do i. as it waxes, i become more empowered. by the full moon, i'm wide-eyed and captivated, in love with the world.
10 years ago: oh goddess...these are always difficult. i can never remember things in terms of years. i would have been 20. in college. 1998. the year before i met him again. i don't remember who i was dating. i spent a lot of time in college getting over the culture shock and counting the days til i could see the baltimore skyline again...
5 things on today's to-do list: 1. keep from crying. (too much. in front of people.) 2. straighten up/wash the dishes. 3. have at least one decent dream and remember to write it down. 4. get up on time in the morning. 5. allow myself to be myself.
snacks i enjoy: trader joe's white popcorn. anything milk chocolate and caramel-filled. potato chips! cashews
things i would do if i were a millionaire: buy a house. travel incessantly invest like hell...make that money make money get all my best friends on a plane and take us somewhere fantastic get more pets get initiated in nigeria and take my family/ile with me give a few hundred thousand dollars away to people doing good shit take the time to sit down and write something go shopping!!! hire a housekeeper
5 places i've lived : there haven't been 5 (wow). just my mom's house, boston, and my apartment.
grief hope getting back to me impatience passion books growth pain movement confusion beauty help strength friendship safety waiting love frustration wanting disassociation vacation ecstasy
sometimes i feel like it's too much work for me to take care of me.
if i focus on the house, my diet suffers. a bad bout of pms, and my house goes to hell. (eating habits, too) if i go on a pampering binge, laundry doesn't get done.
etc and so on.
i know i've been emotionally spoiled. i.e., when a tangible, profound exchange of love and loving is not happening in my life, i notice it. blame the comfort and security of my childhood.
i know that there are far worse things to be, know, and long for. i'm not knocking my blessings. my ori wisely chose this path, probably so i would not have to struggle through all sorts of psychological and emotional trauma.
however, for most of my adult life, i've been able to easily replace that familial loving with some very dynamic lovers, suitors, paramours, and the like.
i don't think that will be as easy now.
it takes more to get me open than it did at 18 or 23, and that's as it should be.
but i still miss the love. what can i do about that?
then again, i also miss my disposable income, energy, and yoga classes.
if you want me, say so. if you don't, say that too.
if you want to know, ask, and i'll tell you. if you hold up a jewel in front of me, it'd better be for me.
yeah, tension's ok and all, but right now? i want satisfaction.
i've done enough waiting. i've had enough of sometimes, almosts, and coulda/shouldas.
i need firm ground to stand on, promises fulfilled, adoration repaid.
if you've promised me nothing, you owe me nothing. but don't come knocking and talking big, 'cause that'll get you nowhere.
potential means very little. i'm sorry, but that ship has sailed. results, movement, progress, evolution...that's everything. i'd rather be that woman and keep my soul than watch it wither away and call it a home.
...and i'm going to keep saying it until he shows up.
the he who can do what he says...not just think about it or visualize it. who isn't afraid. who doesn't back down--from me or himself. who will fight for me like i'll fight for him. who will know that i'm his from my walk, my smile, and my laugh. who realizes that not being co-dependent doesn't mean i don't need him.
this rant brought to you by a bona fide omo sango moment. kawo kabiyesile!
overhead view (those are goddess figurines on the right...moon/bird, earth/voluptuous venus, quan yin)
$5 angel figurine i found at the salvation army...i didn't intend to put her there, but she felt perfect. i think it's the expression on her face. and that's one of my favorite ways to seat myself, too.
IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE? So, here’s how it works: 1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc) 2. Put it on shuffle 3. Press play 4. For every question, type the song that’s playing 5. When you go to a new question, press the next button 6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you're cool…
the energy's shifted significantly. even the pothos cutting has wilted quite a bit.
this isn't unusual or distressing--it often happens when i create this sort of space. eventually i have to dismantle and clear it, then start with something new.
it's been almost a year, so it's a good sign that the prayers and intentions i've put in have done their work, and it's time to move to the next phase.
this incarnation will probably focus on clarity and vision, which means more white/clear things. completely new candles. particular arrangements of crystals. i may skip the earth elements (stones, plants) in favor of more air and ether.
maybe...
3 tealights (body, mind, spirit, triple goddess, etc.) goddess card spreads plenty of quartz, aquamarine, and amethyst
it's tempting to start building it now, but better to wait for the new moon.
i went to an open mic last night at the urging of a couple of talented brothas, and i had a nice time. lots of very talented folks came through and performed.
i also realized that i have no desire to go back to that scene--at least not as a participant.
i'm not saying i'll never write a poem again--i just wrote one the other day--and i'd most certainly go to poetry/spoken word events ("i need to get out more" is a vast understatement). but i don't have any need to share my own musings beyond these online spaces.
the selective stage fright has dissipated. the idea of reading doesn't fill me with dread, but there's also no burning need to speak my peace.
time and space, apparently, have neutralized me.
i'm always going to write because, well, it's what i do. but perform? probably not.
for now, i'll keep (most of) my notebooks, but there will be a massive digital purge. it's all just dead creative weight at this point; fragments that have been lying around for so many years, there's no way to know how to reassemble them.
some things i've "thought" of, i've seen written since. it was my personal proof of the theory that ideas are literally floating through the air, and you and 500 other folks might discover a concept at the same time, but only one or two will actually flesh it out in a way that exposes it to the wider world. the other 498-499 will simply think you a genius when you do.
i've probably lost more half novels and semi second drafted stories than i've ever written--either to outdated technology, the death of my laptop, lost disks, torn up notebooks, etc. and so on--hence the paragraph under this blog's title.
and i'm not sad about it.
i don't know if it's because i'm still finding my voice, or that i'm just not meant to write the next great (american?) novel.
but i'm coming to think of writing as not my calling, but simply a vessel of expression i excel at.
perhaps i will write a book or a blog about my calling that will pull it all together...
but, i'm not a slam poet. or a mc. i'm probably not even a novelist or story writer, despite my bits of training.
i'm piggybacking her joint today. i heard about this mess several days ago, but didn't know how to respond, or if it was even worth it.
she pretty much hit the nail on the head.
i posted on okp for several years, mostly during college. while i made some good friends through the site--online and off--i've also seen just how ugly and petty it can get over there.
newsflash, y'all: a whole lot of women would be living the life erykah's living if they had the financial capability and emotional/spiritual understanding she does.
dudes wanna get their boxers in a bunch when they realize that truly conscious women, ones who are interested in living their best, most authentic lives, might just wanna have their babies and raise them and leave the rest be. in fact, some women have been forced to do so already.
in other words, more of the same--they just call you queen while they do it.
but there are other women who've come to their consciousness above and beyond those systems. others have even attempted to reform and reimagine those systems in their own images. and that's when the labeling starts.
e.g., it's cool to be a good rasta woman or a righteous earth, but erykah's just a kemetic-slang spittin' poser.
i'm glad that i've progressed to the point where i can recognize a trigger and deal with it.
that i am well past the place where i would call an innocent man and completely kirk out on him.
that i can write a poem, talk to a friend, or cry instead.
but i wonder how many women* stay stuck in that place where, if someone hits that nerve, they turn into a hurricane of fury and pain.
every time i see a hapless looking dude getting cussed out in the street, i wonder.
is she really yelling at him?
or is she yelling at her father? her rapist? the dirty old man at the corner store? the disappointment? the dude who left her semi-homeless and with children to feed? her mother? the grandmother who raised her but obviously didn't want to?
who are we truly angry with? who can we forgive? what do we do with the pain they leave behind?
the house needs cleaning, but i still don't have the energy. i don't know why clearing space can be so difficult at times. there's still a suitcase beside the couch from the florida trip for chrissakes.
i feel like i've hit some kind of wall...a messy wall. i'm not quite sure what i want to do with these feelings.
i just realized i've been drinking water almost steadily for the last couple of hours. i'm sure i need it.
eh. i'm not saying shit.
i'm gonna throw on something from my itunes folder and type up some more pages. if i'm gonna be stuck in the house on a saturday night, i can at least be productive.
this is one of those cycles where i feel like i need to give birth...there's little bloating, but i feel heavy and awkward anyway. i can't wait for the flow to bring some relief.
i'm coming to realize that the hurt hasn't gone away.
i forgive him, per se. person-to-person i hold no grudge.
but i'm still stuck with the emotional fallout.
how am i supposed to trust anyone with myself/my dreams again?
how will my relationships be defined from here and beyond, now that kids/marriage/picket fenced houses are not the obvious "goal" (at least not for me)?
what do i need to do to reconstruct my life/ideas around being--for the foreseeable future--a completely single woman? do i pour myself into work/creativity/the grind? do i have to keep a special space open, or will space be made at the appropriate time?
i don't want to miss out on a good thing, but i don't know how to stand the wait, either.
it's similar to how i felt when cosmo disappeared on me all those years ago: helpless, frustrated, alone, frightened, and angry.
even so, it's not like i'm gonna run out and find me a man, 'cause that wouldn't help, either.
i just need to get my bearings. since i am not used to being knocked off my square, it can take some time to recover from the shock when i am.
but i will find my way. i always do.
addendum (7.17.2008)--a melancholy has settled over the entire enterprise. i think i'm going to focus on finding ways to please and pleasure myself...dealing with outside interests seems too tiring.
it's amazing how quickly the jubliation i felt in late spring around being courted has given way to this. oh well. such is life.
rough day at work...pretty big screw up, but at least there wasn't anyone important around to see. i'm hoping i fixed it.
lots of last minute wrangling...at least i prepared for that.
ego's sorely bruised. didn't prepare for that. didn't think i had to.
kinda feeling that whole "i doubt i'll ever be anyone's mother/wife..." thing again.
had to avoid an argument i don't even understand the root of.
the candle won't burn over my prayer.
get paid tomorrow, but i know that won't be the end of the money woes. is there ever an end to those?
i'm tired. probably a little lonely. and very, very sad.
i tried to take a deep breath, suck it up, pull myself up by my stubbornly proud bootstraps...
but i can't right now. it hurts. all of it.
and i don't even think it's the hormones talking.
for the first time in awhile, i'm very aware of my alone-ness. that there isn't someone to help shoulder the burden*. that there are a lot of hopes and dreams that just aren't on the table in any real way right now, and i don't have the energy to sit by the window and wistfully hope for them.
they're just...not there. and i can't count on them being there, no matter what the shells say. this is the one area where my faith can sincerely fail me.
deep down i'm a dreamer, so that's extraordinarily heartbreaking.
but until i find a soft place to rest, that's my life.
and if i'm supposed to wait patiently--heart open and bleeding, palms to the sky--for the universe to send me a marvel, then maybe i'm not ready. 'cause i simply cannot be that vulnerable right now.
for the foreseeable future, i work for me. period. even if i do it through tears.
at least they'll be my tears.
*family/friends are the exceptions to this statement. i love both, and they're always there for me. this is more about relationships.
there have been too many rants and raves lately. so here goes:
low humidity summer mornings summer, period billie holiday records sweet kisses a cat that knows just when to love me up & watch over me family basil florida tans baths cotton sista circles pedicures watching the moon grow a little each night rosewater knowing what i need and how to make it happen
i feel like i need to sing, dance...use my body. writing it out isn't enough.
i've been back at home for a few hours. sometimes this space feels too full of memories and yet-to-be's to be comfortable anymore.
...that probably means it's time to call out some things and smudge the entire place.
the neighborhood negroes are still setting off firecrackers, some of which sound more like pipe bombs. i also had to kill a spider solo earlier, which always puts me on edge.
part of me wants to force myself to sleep, but i know i'm not that tired. i'd be up again at 3am, stir crazy.
i can't sit still long enough to watch my dvds (just started season 3 of the wire...).
i'm doing some half assed web surfing, but that's not satisfying, either.
if i had some money, i'd go out...but then again, i'd also probably drink too much than is good for me, trying to work myself into a socially acceptable trance.
eventually i'll probably get a headache, light a ton of candles, and fall asleep out of sheer frustration.
it's amazing how i can see the patterns, lessons and dreams that led me to someone; how all the experiences of this and past lifetimes weave the lens i see through.
consequently, it doesn't take me long to figure out what i want, how i want it, and how long i want it for.
and i can feel myself wanting to try again. that's scary.
but it's different this time.
spells have been broken. karma relieved of its duty.
i feel safe enough to open up, relax, enjoy, and please...yet i'm still awake/wary enough to wait, watch, and listen.
even if i slipped and fell, i could still walk away.
still...i hope it's as real as it feels.
I was walking home Looking at the trees Got the feeling that they Were looking back at me
Thoughts that occurred to me Were not of the usual kind And I don’t take that for granted no I don’t call them mine I don’t call them mine ‘Cause in my life things Are built on They're built on
Constant surprises Coming my way Some call it coincidence But I like to call it fate
The higher forces want to connect Last night in my dream I was talking to you You know who you are Were you dreaming too ‘Cause in my life Things are built on Are built on
Constant surprises Coming my way Some call it coincidence But I like to call it fate
Then on my way home I met this guy He was not so shy You know not that kind We spoke and suddenly I could read his mind You think it’s mad But I don’t fool myself You think its odd ‘Cause in my life In my life things are built on They're built on They're built on
Constant surprises Coming my way Some call it coincidence But I like to call it fate
