abbreviated autumn

(a more fleshed out version of this)

i was outside earlier, and i could smell winter.
not autumn. full blown, icy, frosty, foreboding winter.

just that fast.

a week or so ago, i could barely stand to wear long sleeves, now i'm chilled to the bone. i can almost see snow on the horizon.

my native american ancestors are stirring--always the second half of the fall sensitivities. it makes sense. there's the day of the dead, thanksgiving...

something about the colors of autumn forces them to make their presence known.

the strange thing is that i'm almost looking forward to the cold and the dark and the disappearance of the sun.

i can't remember a time when i've wanted that, not even for the sake of christmas. it's difficult for me to be cold. i don't warm up easily; it takes a multitude of hot liquids, blankets, and layers and layers of clothing.

but i think winter justifies my current obsession with quiet, peace and solitude.
i've been nesting with no promise of a baby--at least no physical one.

hopefully this means true rebirth in spring...


i hear, i act, and i am rewarded

i popped up this morning after a somewhat nonsensical anxiety dream. feeling too lazy to go to the farmer's market, i started fooling around online. soon, i started to feel like i was being pulled away. a familiar feeling.

time to do some spiritual work...

there is still a part of me that attempts to ignore that pull. i suppose it's ego and conditioning--the drive to be "normal", the inculcated tendency to act like communing with the intangible is silly and childish. but spirit is insistent; to act in false ignorance is to betray my name.

so i tore myself away from myspace (i'm making that sound much more difficult than it actually was...) and got cleaned up: black soap and a yemonja rinse with sea salt and molasses.

then i settled in, opened up and listened.

spent the late morning and early afternoon tied up in shrine maintenance & meditation: cleaning vessels, pouring libations, dusting fabrics, reflection with ifa. the house still smells a bit like a temple.

despite my stubbornness, i always enjoy the work and feel enriched for having done it. there is something special about coming home from a long day and inhaling traces of candle wax, incense, and gin. i might walk in ready to curse out the world, but as i kick off my shoes, i am greeted by my warriors and my little black cat. they instantly transform my mood.

i am home.
i am loved.
i am protected.
i am connected to my source.

after today, i am certain that this past week took a more out of me than i thought.

i only left the house today to get some food.
the laundry remains in a bag, in the hallway.
i really have to get on that.

i suppose i'm still birthing...

but i've learned my lesson. the fount has been shut off. i will invest no more energy in this endeavor than is necessary. gotta keep that fire from flaring up.

and next weekend i'll be celebrating my new beginning...


maferefun esu...

modupe, esu, for helping me through. may you always open my roads towards peace, progress, and elevation. ashe.

i was told there would be days like this...

it was a rough week, and it's not quite over yet. but i remain empowered by the knowledge that this change is real, it's happening, and i have manifested it for myself. it is meant for me, and it will be glorious. i have nothing to worry about, and all the craziness will pass.

pms has been another challenge; a difficult to navigate power surge working on some deeper-than-usual levels. i've been uncomfortable and tired, and there are very few people i'm interested in speaking to. i probably just need peace and rest. i am trying very hard to be attentive to and respectful of my cycles; if i need to hide, i need to hide. nothing wrong with that.

i really don't know what i want to do with the evening. i need to do laundry, but i'll probably wind up lighting a bazillion candles and reading some cards or something. maybe editing.

the only person i could tolerate in my space right now is honey, and he's out of town on business.

so...that's that.

edit: after some thought, i've decided to give myself a pedicure, watch whatever came from netflix, and get some shea butter up in the 'fro.


listen up & pay attention...

why our 'flaws' are beautiful

...the quotes around "flaws" are mine 'cause i don't really see them as flaws.

that scar is a survival story.
wrinkles are the mark of a crone.
in parts of africa, gapped teeth are considered a beauty mark.

and so on.

amen & hallelujah to these women for flaunting what they "shouldn't".


i've got a lot to think about.

and some changes to go through. so forgive me if i don't write often...

the new job came through, so i've been giving thanks for that.

but now, all of a sudden, the current gig's got the money i should have had six months ago.


i need a challenge.
i need to stretch my wings away from what i like to call the evil empire.
i need a change of scenery--even if it does come with a commute.
i need...fresh air. new faces.
i need opportunities that are gonna help me in the long run.

this deal i've been offered feels like a retrograde special--do it, and you'll regret it.

esu's already spoken, and so has my ori.

i know where i need to be, and i'm pretty certain that it ain't where i'm at.

but a little meditation & some cowrie tossin never hurt.

y'all stay beautiful.


a mad, mad, mad world

there are things i'd like to write about that are better kept quiet until i'm sure of the outcome.

other things i can feel, but have few or no words to express.

i'll try to touch on what i can, 'cause i have to get something out...

i feel another project coming on--that, or something calling out to be finished. i had a promising story/novel come to me a few years ago that i haven't been able to develop into any kind of coherent whole. it pokes me every now and then, i scribble whatever comes, then i leave it until the next time. not exactly a winning strategy.

the love project is...stalled. that was easier to work from a place of angst and a need to organize unrequited emotion. but, as he's wont to do, the subject of the piece has reared his head. now there's a new set of sentiments to deal with.

i recently began to reread ...said the shotgun to the head. i may have mentioned before that i enjoy saul williams because he's the only male poet i've read (to date) who seems to be trying to understand the divine feminine on a deep level. he also seems like the kind of man i'd probably fall head over heels for, but that's beside the point.

something in his words hits me on levels i didn't know anyone knew i had. he has a way of stirring the parts of me i've attempted to subdue in the name of normalcy. i realize that that is probably due more to his mediumship than the beauty of his poetry. i sense that he is often a vessel, same as i am.

i'd like to ask him how he learned to surrender...

there's also a lingering sense of need for...a spark. some sense of purpose, a goal, something. it seems that whenever i gain a new understanding or realization it just leaves me lusting after something else.

and now, instead of the depression it caused a few weeks ago, it's starting to feel like an itch. irritating and almost intangible. there's also a sprinkling of rage i like to call hungry baby syndrome, i.e., you scream until you're fed.

welcome to my mess.

y'all mind the retrograde, now.



first things first: i love this post. and this one.

ok. now what?
i'm not sure. that's what i've been asking myself the last couple of days.

bored to tears.
praying for positive change.
preparing for the retrograde & new moon.
trying to hear all the voices in my head--and give them form.
suffering fools.
still aware.
undersexed and underinspired.

...and god only knows what else.

saul is providing an elusive muse-y vibe to life at the moment. thank you, mr. williams.

i'm not upset. or even distressed. just me outlining my limbo.

i'm confident in the knowledge that sango has me in his sights. i've heard you, baba. i'm trusting you to get me through.


maferefun egungun

the african burial ground is now a national monument. give thanks.

oldie but goodie...

i fall in love with youtube at least twice daily, i swear. lol.


i'm it...

aight. dark daughta tagged me. thanks, sistren, 'cause it gives me something to write about today...

the "rules"- Post the rules before you give the facts. Post eight random facts about yourself. At the end of your blog post, you need to tag eight people and list their names. Leave the people you tagged a comment on their blog, letting them know that they've been tagged.*

let's see.

i have a love/hate relationship with my creativity.

intellectual boredom depresses me. it's one of the main reasons i need a new job. if i'm going to be bored somewhere else, the least i can do is make enough money to take a vacation here and there and escape.

i always thought i'd find one guy, settle down, and live happily ever after. babies optional. but now that i'm almost 30 and kinda sorta single again i wonder if it's possible. after two soulmates and the past four years of trying to work it out on earth, i'm exhausted. but i know i love love too much to stop trying.

my inner vision and understanding of myself don't match up (at this moment) with my outer life. this also worries/distresses me.

i am most comfortable with one foot in this world and the other in the spirit world. but there are very few conditions and circumstances that allow this to happen.

i want a drum. i think that, somehow, i instinctively know how to play, and that learning will enrich me in some way.

i'm pretty sure i'm gonna start my locs again. i loved them. i don't regret letting go of the years and the experiences that began that leg of my journey, but when phase two starts, i want another set to mark it. maybe i'll let those get to my knees.

my unintentional weight loss isn't too bad after all. i miss my ass though.

i'm waiting for someone to write about me the way i wrote/write about him.

*i always tag in reverse. or refuse to tag, if that makes more sense. if you're up to it, follow suit. if not, cool. i've always been bad at chain letters. lol.


life lesson #281092059

even the oldest, most powerful love needs time, care, and attention.

any castle, despite its magnificence, will fall into ruin if it is not cared for.


starve your art to feed your face

i feel you, girl...

i have lost no less than 4-5 essays/poems in the last couple of days.

this time of year sends me into monk mode. prayer, dreaming, communing, writing. those are pretty high on my list right now.

fielding emails, ordering supplies, and catering to whims is not.

my best stuff comes from wide, open spaces. half trance and total absorption.

i've learned how to steal time. blogging at my desk when something strikes me, scribbling in a notebook while waiting for the shuttle, etc.

i'm still re-learning flow, trying to honor my commitment to eliminate self-censorship.

freewrite to cut the fat.
prose journaling for emotions or to chronicle life.
pure emotion manifests as poetry.
post-meditation epiphanies.

one day we'll have the time and space to give these worlds and words the shape and form they deserve.

til then, back to the grind...


it's party time...

well, not for me. but this is an unusual time of year.

my antennae are a little sharper than usual.
so i see the world a little differently.

last night i told the-man-sometimes-known-as-honey that i'm tempted to walk around with a medicine bag full of juju and bless random people. get a plane and crop dust the 'hood with omiero.

the ancestors are grieving the losses that come too soon from misaligned ori and despair so internalized it's become an artificial aura.

lamenting because their families have blocked out their voices--all the better to hear the preacher man.

etc. and so on.


life gets interesting in the fall.

p.s.--it's nice to know that a place like this exists. if i'd had access to something like that, it'd be interesting to see where i'd be now.