Greetings Yall,
I received a few comments when I was preparing to delete this blog that have led me to decide NOT to delete it.
I will leave all past blogs here HOWEVER....all new postings will be at my Other blogger blog
The Resurrection of the Town of Women
Hope to see you all there!
Ecstasy, Abundance, and Bliss to all
O
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Deleting This Blog
Greetings All,
I am will be deleting this blog shortly please find all bliss blogs at my other blogger location-The Resurrection of the Town Of Women
O
I am will be deleting this blog shortly please find all bliss blogs at my other blogger location-The Resurrection of the Town Of Women
O
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Reflections Over the Past 39 Years...Its Been a Great Ride
October 28, 2008...I reached my 39th revolution around the sun...SMILE
My biggest birthday present was a trip to Atlanta to participate in a Haitian Voodoo ceremony in which a friend of mine "married" the loa Erzulie Dantor
Invigorating...in spite of the fact that my ever swelling womb caused me to sleep through the last half of the singing and dancing..SMILE
I was awakened to what I call 'real' life at 17 by the voice of Bob Marley...while visiting my sister I was introduced to him through the Exodus album, it had been borrowed from her Nigerian boyfriend
My mind was opened by the meaningfulness of the lyrics and the truth of what he was saying rang true...I was captured and sought to know more
One song in particular-"So Much Things To Say"- held my mind, the lines
'I'll never forget no way they crucified Jesus Christ
I'll never forget no way they sold Marcus Garvey for rice
I'll never forget no way they turned their backs on Paul Bogel (?)
And don't you forget no you who you are and where you stand in the struggle'
I asked my mother, the most learned person I knew, who Marcus Garvey was and she wasn't sure and said I should seek answers at my local library
The library where I lived, Columbia TN had absolutely NO information on Marcus Garvey and now that I think back...it is amazing that my mother had not heard of him...having grown up in Cleveland OH during the time period not long after his heyday....hmmm curious????
Anyway...as I write about it...I see that my mother raised us in a manner that was revolutionary for Black children...when the US was at war with Libya she called us to the television and said look at Qaddafi, he looks like you and I, she took us the globe and showed us that Libya was in Afrika and said they are fighting Black people, people that look like us and are from the same place that we are from...when the MOVE headquarters in Philly were bombed she awakened us before daybreak in the morning and said the only reason they bombed these people is because these people were led by a Black man, there is no other reason, these people were not doing anything wrong, they were not hurting anyone, their crime was being Black and she made us watch the entire newcast as we dressed for school
She taught us that were not Americans, but were members of a Master Race who had been able to survive the rigors of slavery, the middle passage and racist America
She taught us that ancient KMTic/Egyptian civilization was a BLACK civilization and that Egypt was in Afrika our homeland
So I suppose I was building upon what I was taught to be moved so deeply by the words of Bob Marley and when I was lucky enough to find a little bit of information on him in my school library I was uplifted and transformed by the platform and vision of Marcus Garvey , the UNIA and the Black Star Line
For the remainder of my senior year I listened to little else than Bob Marley to the extent that my mother asked me to please stop playing it over and over because it sounded like folks beating on garbarge cans-I didn't learn until later that she was actually accurate in her description of steel drums...LOL...kind of
I entered into the hallowed halls of Fisk University elated with the prospect of being able to learn more about my people....and my Alma Mater delivered...I was inundated with the literature of the Harlem Renaissance, the visually revolutionary art of the 60's and 70's and an education style that primed FISKITES to be the next Black leaders...we were reminded in every class that it was the Black man's time to rule and that we must be prepared to step up and take the mantle of leadership upon graduation...all art classes began with Afrikan art and then moved forward into classical European and then into Black art forms such as Jazz and blues...humanist thought classes and political science classes challenged us to form new world views and new spiritual views...I was being groomed and molded daily hourly...not to mention the sheer joy of being around ALL BLACK folx all the time...our vibration was so beautiful, so creative, so powerful
By the time I came home for the summer and refused to be ignored until all the whitefolx behind me had been serviced in line at our local dept store...and expected cars and trucks to stop if I was in the crosswalk whether their drivers were black or white...and was vocal about these racists acts...my mother feared for my life and second guessed her decision to send me to a black school
And so on and so on...fast forward to the summer before my Junior year and my boyfriends friend was making all types of changes in his life and attributed them to one book which he said we HAD to read...he loaned me his copy and I devoured every word...THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MALCOLM X!...the summer was 1989, it was the tail end of the Tawana Brawley scandal and Public Enemy was admonishing us to Fight the Power, Spike Lee asked us to Do The Right Thing AND all around we were sporting afrikan medallions, dashikis and baby dreds...we were reviving the revolution of Black Liberation that our parents had left behind and we were LOVING it...within this climate, I conceieved my first child....SMILE
I was RIPE in every way by the time I found out I was pregnant...I was growing out my natural, seeking ways to study Islam, and looking for an Afrikan name to be known by...I was an active member of our Black Liberation group on campus "The Conscious Party"...I felt happy and free and meaningful...I told my mother I was pregnant and that I was keeeping the child and giving it an Afrikan name and raising it as Muslim...my mother, who had raised me to be such a free and proud Black thinker...was appalled at my these child rearing choices...it was the first of many philosophical rifts in our relationship
In May of 1990 on the day the world had mourned Bob Marley 9 years earlier my daughter was born
Nailah Imani...our first outing...Louis Farrakhan's speech in Birmingham AL!!!!!!
I studied with the NOI in earnest for the next 2 or 3 years...during which time I also had another daughter...Kamilah Laini...married and divorced their physically abusive father...and returned to Fisk to complete my bachelors degree after a two year hiatus
By the time I got back to Fisk...I didnt do it if it wasnt Black, didnt talk about it if it wasnt revolutionary, didnt participate in it if it wasnt about the downfall of the wicked ass system! I had expanded my hero base to included Huey Newton and the Black Panther Party for Self Defense and Dedan Kimathi and the Kenyan Land Freedom Army...I wrapped my head in Afrikan cloth, clothed my body in baggy blue jeans and Fisk sweatshirts and wore combat boots...always ready in case The Revolution should begin...chanting the lyrics of X Clan at all times like a mantra
I took the last electives I needed to graduate among them...classes called Revolutionary Black Movements, Malcom X the Icon, The Black Experience in Religion and Afrikan history I and II...my professors all of them white except one...taught me that my Ancestors all over the world had been fighting against oppression since the first Arab enslaved us way back in the 13th century...and that we had won that fight in the 60's and 70's with the independence from the colonial powers and the regaining of our lands and our political power over ourselves BUT that these same colonial powers had used their money and Super Power status to then pay off our own Afrikan leaders to overthrow the revolutionary governments that had been built...I was enraged and saddened and overwhelmed...I needed to pray but wasnt sure what God's name was...I needed a spiritual base and the NOI was not feeding me in that way...so one day in hour of extreme want...I fell to my needs and told GOD-I do not know what your name is , your true presence has been cloaked in lies BUT I need you to deliver me, I need strength and help and support and I know that these things come through you...I can no longer pray to the God of slaves, who I know was put into place to keep me and my children enslaved forever so I pray to the GOD my ancestors prayed to before coming to this horrible place and I beg you to answer me, help me, help my babies, deliver US!
Within a week I had purchased Tell My Horse from the school bookstore and my Black Experience in Religion teacher had introduced me to the worship of the Orisha...even though he was a Christian minister...he considered my questions in class and after class and my passion and enthusaism and pointed me to a passage in a book about Oyotunji Village in SC and said..."this is what you are looking for"...ALL PRAISES to my Munificent Mother Oshun!!!!
Within the next week I met three people studying traditional Afrikan spiritual practices and was invited to attend the next open meeting being held...within months I was a devotee...then a prestigious member of the elite inner circle and in two years a priestess of Oshun!!!
I got married again...had two more daughters...begin to home school my babies..co founded a Temple...went to Jamaica and Afrika and Barbados...listened to and was groomed by Oshun HerSelf
Somewhere within this journey I realized that while my early liberation motives had been to get a piece of the American pie...I no longer wanted any of that rotten molded corrupt and wickedness...I realized that LIFE is good and positive and uplifting in its purest form...I realized that I myself am the bringer and supreme carrier of life as the Afrikan Woman and that this is a magickal truth that has been celebrated by the ancients since life began
I became disenchanted with the patriarchal and abusive nature of most Afrikan liberation organizations and I looked desperately for a mentoress and found none but Oshun and my own head, my Ori
I became a renegade within some Orisha houses in the US because I refused to give credence to their abusive and chauvanistic practices and I was VOCAL about my refusal...I even cussed out the brothers that I travelled to Afrika with for their unacceptable behavior while there...somewhere along the way I BECAME I WOMAN....YES YES YES
I knelt by the waters of the Oshun river while in Nigeria and asked for healing and was blessed with Sacred Woman when I returned the US
I divorced husband number two and wept before my Oshun shrine and was blessed with another free trip to Barbados and a job teaching at the university
I learned to depend upon Oshun for all things and that all things would be and continue to be given unto me
I moved away with my four daughters to the West Indies...offending many with my vocal stance against the patriarchy my unacceptance of chauvanistic treatment of any kind in any form...and my assertion and patriarchal attitudes ARE NOT AFRIKAN!...I brought my children home to the US for a visit with their father embraced my most passionate lover...concieved and bore a son
AND so here I am...in the midst of a long pause and reflect period in my own life...sitting the US still for the past 2 years even though I KNOW and my children KNOW it is not the place for us...but still knowing that LIFE is good and that OSHUN is in control always and in all ways...waiting for I dunno...an epiphany...a sign...lightening...fireworks...something...and I am now 39...carrying another child...teaching at another university...watching the election of the first black president in the US wishing my mother had lived to see it...
My life has been so good so full so transformational so led truth and wisdom and courage
I am proud of my self and in awe of my self as well...what further adventures we have only Oshun knows but in looking back I am sure of one thing
I am up to the challenge and
I am game!
My biggest birthday present was a trip to Atlanta to participate in a Haitian Voodoo ceremony in which a friend of mine "married" the loa Erzulie Dantor
Invigorating...in spite of the fact that my ever swelling womb caused me to sleep through the last half of the singing and dancing..SMILE
I was awakened to what I call 'real' life at 17 by the voice of Bob Marley...while visiting my sister I was introduced to him through the Exodus album, it had been borrowed from her Nigerian boyfriend
My mind was opened by the meaningfulness of the lyrics and the truth of what he was saying rang true...I was captured and sought to know more
One song in particular-"So Much Things To Say"- held my mind, the lines
'I'll never forget no way they crucified Jesus Christ
I'll never forget no way they sold Marcus Garvey for rice
I'll never forget no way they turned their backs on Paul Bogel (?)
And don't you forget no you who you are and where you stand in the struggle'
I asked my mother, the most learned person I knew, who Marcus Garvey was and she wasn't sure and said I should seek answers at my local library
The library where I lived, Columbia TN had absolutely NO information on Marcus Garvey and now that I think back...it is amazing that my mother had not heard of him...having grown up in Cleveland OH during the time period not long after his heyday....hmmm curious????
Anyway...as I write about it...I see that my mother raised us in a manner that was revolutionary for Black children...when the US was at war with Libya she called us to the television and said look at Qaddafi, he looks like you and I, she took us the globe and showed us that Libya was in Afrika and said they are fighting Black people, people that look like us and are from the same place that we are from...when the MOVE headquarters in Philly were bombed she awakened us before daybreak in the morning and said the only reason they bombed these people is because these people were led by a Black man, there is no other reason, these people were not doing anything wrong, they were not hurting anyone, their crime was being Black and she made us watch the entire newcast as we dressed for school
She taught us that were not Americans, but were members of a Master Race who had been able to survive the rigors of slavery, the middle passage and racist America
She taught us that ancient KMTic/Egyptian civilization was a BLACK civilization and that Egypt was in Afrika our homeland
So I suppose I was building upon what I was taught to be moved so deeply by the words of Bob Marley and when I was lucky enough to find a little bit of information on him in my school library I was uplifted and transformed by the platform and vision of Marcus Garvey , the UNIA and the Black Star Line
For the remainder of my senior year I listened to little else than Bob Marley to the extent that my mother asked me to please stop playing it over and over because it sounded like folks beating on garbarge cans-I didn't learn until later that she was actually accurate in her description of steel drums...LOL...kind of
I entered into the hallowed halls of Fisk University elated with the prospect of being able to learn more about my people....and my Alma Mater delivered...I was inundated with the literature of the Harlem Renaissance, the visually revolutionary art of the 60's and 70's and an education style that primed FISKITES to be the next Black leaders...we were reminded in every class that it was the Black man's time to rule and that we must be prepared to step up and take the mantle of leadership upon graduation...all art classes began with Afrikan art and then moved forward into classical European and then into Black art forms such as Jazz and blues...humanist thought classes and political science classes challenged us to form new world views and new spiritual views...I was being groomed and molded daily hourly...not to mention the sheer joy of being around ALL BLACK folx all the time...our vibration was so beautiful, so creative, so powerful
By the time I came home for the summer and refused to be ignored until all the whitefolx behind me had been serviced in line at our local dept store...and expected cars and trucks to stop if I was in the crosswalk whether their drivers were black or white...and was vocal about these racists acts...my mother feared for my life and second guessed her decision to send me to a black school
And so on and so on...fast forward to the summer before my Junior year and my boyfriends friend was making all types of changes in his life and attributed them to one book which he said we HAD to read...he loaned me his copy and I devoured every word...THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MALCOLM X!...the summer was 1989, it was the tail end of the Tawana Brawley scandal and Public Enemy was admonishing us to Fight the Power, Spike Lee asked us to Do The Right Thing AND all around we were sporting afrikan medallions, dashikis and baby dreds...we were reviving the revolution of Black Liberation that our parents had left behind and we were LOVING it...within this climate, I conceieved my first child....SMILE
I was RIPE in every way by the time I found out I was pregnant...I was growing out my natural, seeking ways to study Islam, and looking for an Afrikan name to be known by...I was an active member of our Black Liberation group on campus "The Conscious Party"...I felt happy and free and meaningful...I told my mother I was pregnant and that I was keeeping the child and giving it an Afrikan name and raising it as Muslim...my mother, who had raised me to be such a free and proud Black thinker...was appalled at my these child rearing choices...it was the first of many philosophical rifts in our relationship
In May of 1990 on the day the world had mourned Bob Marley 9 years earlier my daughter was born
Nailah Imani...our first outing...Louis Farrakhan's speech in Birmingham AL!!!!!!
I studied with the NOI in earnest for the next 2 or 3 years...during which time I also had another daughter...Kamilah Laini...married and divorced their physically abusive father...and returned to Fisk to complete my bachelors degree after a two year hiatus
By the time I got back to Fisk...I didnt do it if it wasnt Black, didnt talk about it if it wasnt revolutionary, didnt participate in it if it wasnt about the downfall of the wicked ass system! I had expanded my hero base to included Huey Newton and the Black Panther Party for Self Defense and Dedan Kimathi and the Kenyan Land Freedom Army...I wrapped my head in Afrikan cloth, clothed my body in baggy blue jeans and Fisk sweatshirts and wore combat boots...always ready in case The Revolution should begin...chanting the lyrics of X Clan at all times like a mantra
I took the last electives I needed to graduate among them...classes called Revolutionary Black Movements, Malcom X the Icon, The Black Experience in Religion and Afrikan history I and II...my professors all of them white except one...taught me that my Ancestors all over the world had been fighting against oppression since the first Arab enslaved us way back in the 13th century...and that we had won that fight in the 60's and 70's with the independence from the colonial powers and the regaining of our lands and our political power over ourselves BUT that these same colonial powers had used their money and Super Power status to then pay off our own Afrikan leaders to overthrow the revolutionary governments that had been built...I was enraged and saddened and overwhelmed...I needed to pray but wasnt sure what God's name was...I needed a spiritual base and the NOI was not feeding me in that way...so one day in hour of extreme want...I fell to my needs and told GOD-I do not know what your name is , your true presence has been cloaked in lies BUT I need you to deliver me, I need strength and help and support and I know that these things come through you...I can no longer pray to the God of slaves, who I know was put into place to keep me and my children enslaved forever so I pray to the GOD my ancestors prayed to before coming to this horrible place and I beg you to answer me, help me, help my babies, deliver US!
Within a week I had purchased Tell My Horse from the school bookstore and my Black Experience in Religion teacher had introduced me to the worship of the Orisha...even though he was a Christian minister...he considered my questions in class and after class and my passion and enthusaism and pointed me to a passage in a book about Oyotunji Village in SC and said..."this is what you are looking for"...ALL PRAISES to my Munificent Mother Oshun!!!!
Within the next week I met three people studying traditional Afrikan spiritual practices and was invited to attend the next open meeting being held...within months I was a devotee...then a prestigious member of the elite inner circle and in two years a priestess of Oshun!!!
I got married again...had two more daughters...begin to home school my babies..co founded a Temple...went to Jamaica and Afrika and Barbados...listened to and was groomed by Oshun HerSelf
Somewhere within this journey I realized that while my early liberation motives had been to get a piece of the American pie...I no longer wanted any of that rotten molded corrupt and wickedness...I realized that LIFE is good and positive and uplifting in its purest form...I realized that I myself am the bringer and supreme carrier of life as the Afrikan Woman and that this is a magickal truth that has been celebrated by the ancients since life began
I became disenchanted with the patriarchal and abusive nature of most Afrikan liberation organizations and I looked desperately for a mentoress and found none but Oshun and my own head, my Ori
I became a renegade within some Orisha houses in the US because I refused to give credence to their abusive and chauvanistic practices and I was VOCAL about my refusal...I even cussed out the brothers that I travelled to Afrika with for their unacceptable behavior while there...somewhere along the way I BECAME I WOMAN....YES YES YES
I knelt by the waters of the Oshun river while in Nigeria and asked for healing and was blessed with Sacred Woman when I returned the US
I divorced husband number two and wept before my Oshun shrine and was blessed with another free trip to Barbados and a job teaching at the university
I learned to depend upon Oshun for all things and that all things would be and continue to be given unto me
I moved away with my four daughters to the West Indies...offending many with my vocal stance against the patriarchy my unacceptance of chauvanistic treatment of any kind in any form...and my assertion and patriarchal attitudes ARE NOT AFRIKAN!...I brought my children home to the US for a visit with their father embraced my most passionate lover...concieved and bore a son
AND so here I am...in the midst of a long pause and reflect period in my own life...sitting the US still for the past 2 years even though I KNOW and my children KNOW it is not the place for us...but still knowing that LIFE is good and that OSHUN is in control always and in all ways...waiting for I dunno...an epiphany...a sign...lightening...fireworks...something...and I am now 39...carrying another child...teaching at another university...watching the election of the first black president in the US wishing my mother had lived to see it...
My life has been so good so full so transformational so led truth and wisdom and courage
I am proud of my self and in awe of my self as well...what further adventures we have only Oshun knows but in looking back I am sure of one thing
I am up to the challenge and
I am game!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Desire...
I don't know if it is "normal" ...as in what is socially acceptable and "allowed" but I want it all the time...*sigh*...and I was born this way...I mean from as far back as I can remember...I have spent large portions of my day trying to figure out how to be held more or kissed more or touched more frequently
This need is so pervasisive within my personality that I have grown to think that EVERYONE wants it as much as I do...they just do not admit it...and I have researched and studied enough child development information to have deduced that it may be some shortcoming of my early infanthood...that perhaps I wasn't touched or held or kissed enough...I mean I know I wasn't breastfed and I have six other siblings and all and Momma had to go back to work when I was around one I think...but to be honest yall
My brothers and sisters filled my early childhood with tickling and tackle football and kissing and hugging and holding and lots and lots of affection...on a level I think we worked very hard to give to each other what we did not receive from my mother or my father...I even see it in the very touchy feely way we raise our own children, such a departure from our own upbringing Now that I am a grown woman...I still love touching, being touched, kissing, being kissed...lots and lots of affection and I also have a high libido
*BLINK*
I say that with a measure of fear, trepidation, and trembling...because, even in this age of "Sex In The City" and "Desparate Housewives" it is still somewhat taboo for a woman to have and admit to intense sexual urges
Not always acceptable to be the one who rolls over in the middle of the night fondling and wanting and whose desire rises in each morning with SunRa...I suppose it must be somewhat intimidating to be with a woman whose urges constantly cause her to trepass on that most sacred, partially ego-driven and decidedly male ground of sexuality...be that as it may...I am who and what I am and although I have learned to make peace with most of My Self and love Her unapologetically THIS PIECE remains the last stronghold of the patriarchy in my otherwise gynocentric, woman centered, matrifocal psyche! MY OWN DESIRE! I still fight my own urges so as not to step on the oh so sensitive toes of those who feel that my own wants have no place in the realm of desire...those who diagnose me simply because I have needs more intense than their own...my sensuality, my sexuality remains watered down, diluted, less than full strength
I do not believe that the world is ready and I have YET to meet a lover who is ready to actually deal with Female Sexuality head on, face to face...Full, Straight No Chaser, ON TENCause female sexuality is the stuff our cultures most influential horror stories are made of...the Jezebels, the Mary Magdelenes, the Eves, the Liliths...all of these women, who are the WRONG KIND of women had the gaul to exhibit their desires and EVEN WORSE had the nerve to expect them to be fulfilled...thereby earning themselves a permanent place in exile within in the minds of those who seek to belong
And even though belonging is something I gave up on back in the sixth grade...the thorn of socialization has still been driven deep into my spine splintering so that little bitlets of it remain part of my soul even as I struggle to remove them...there is always one tiny piece left lingering right underneath the skin, that is undetectable with the naked eye but causes so much pain that you will gladly suffer through having it fished out with a needle...my desire is That Piece
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Update on Online Courses On Raising Children in Orisha, Afrikan Spirituality and Gynocentricity
Today will mark the official beginning of my online correspondence courses on Raising Children in Orisha, Afrikan Spirituality and Gynocentricity...
Those who have ordered a course will receive their first lessons via email today...
For those who did not order a course...each online lesson is $10 and there are up to 8 lessons per course
Each lesson may be purchased individually by clicking on the order an online course button to the left of my blog
Also here are short descriptions of each course for those who are interested...
Those who have ordered a course will receive their first lessons via email today...
For those who did not order a course...each online lesson is $10 and there are up to 8 lessons per course
Each lesson may be purchased individually by clicking on the order an online course button to the left of my blog
Also here are short descriptions of each course for those who are interested...
Raising Children In Orisha
This course will offer information and support for parents or parents to be who want to integrate ancient spiritual practices into the lives of their children...the course will not be limited to information on the Orisha but will cover Earth based cultural practices from other areas in Afrika and the Caribbean as well as North and South America
This course will offer information and support for parents or parents to be who want to integrate ancient spiritual practices into the lives of their children...the course will not be limited to information on the Orisha but will cover Earth based cultural practices from other areas in Afrika and the Caribbean as well as North and South America
How does raising children in Orisha differ from mainstream parenting?
How can I "ritualize" my birth experience? (whether at home or in the hospital)
How can I include my child in rituals? (newborn to young adult)
Bringing ancient ways into the modern world
A year and a day, when one parent leaves the home (divorce/separation)
Can they and should they still go to church with grandma?
What about holidays?
Afrikan centered/Orisha based Home Schooling/Unschooling ( a rudimentary curriculum that can be used whether your child is in public school or home schooled)
Afrikan Spirituality
This is a course in Afrikan spirituality and worldview. The objective of the class is to offer an understanding of this ancient way to those who are interesting in practicing it as a way of life or studying it or even adding it to their own current practice.
Who are the Orisha/Vodun/Loa?
This is a course in Afrikan spirituality and worldview. The objective of the class is to offer an understanding of this ancient way to those who are interesting in practicing it as a way of life or studying it or even adding it to their own current practice.
Who are the Orisha/Vodun/Loa?
What is the nature of Ancient Afrikan Supreme Being?
Affects of the Maafa (slave trade) on Afrikan Spirituality
Role of Women in Afrikan Spirituality
Family in Afrikan Spirituality
Sacred Orature: Sacred Oral Texts of West Afrika
Power of the Spoken Word, Incantations
Western Adaptions of West Afrikan practices
Gynocentricity
This course will discuss the Matriarchies and what life looks like when the womb is the focal point of all daily interactions. Instructions on creating a womb centered focus in your own life will be given. Examples of how womb centered-ness looks in the ancient and modern world.
This course will discuss the Matriarchies and what life looks like when the womb is the focal point of all daily interactions. Instructions on creating a womb centered focus in your own life will be given. Examples of how womb centered-ness looks in the ancient and modern world.
GYNOCENTRICITY what it is and what it is not(2 sessions)
The Matriarchy: A Brief Historical Overview(2 sessions)
Praise the Mother: Goddess Veneration: Historical Overview(2 sessions)
Modern Matrifocal Societies and How they Operate
How we intergrate Gynocentricity into our own lives
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Day 5 of a Ten Day Summer Solstice Fast
Speaking to my close sistah friend yesterday I was reminded of how fasting opens your eyes, increases your spiritual power and brings clarity on how to fulfill your destiny, fasting also reminds you of what destiny you chose when you bowed before Olodumare before being re-born into the physical realm...
I feel happy, free, light, airy...sweet
And I am reminded of how SO MUCH of who and what we believe ourselves to be is actually what we consume as opposed to what we actually ARE
Meaning...we are what we eat, what we drink, the music we listen to, the television shows we watch...we are the movies we view, the conversations we participate in, the decorations in our homes and offices, the friends we surround ourselves with, the people we make love to
All of these things...are things we consume
As I watch the world...not just now that I am fasting but most of the time...I see people who are tangled up in trying very hard to be and do things that are not them
I see people who believe that violence and hurt and conflict are the norm
People who think that to live in a place where there is happiness and peace is a pipe dream
People who have bought into the doctrine that they are inherently wicked...they are spiritually flawed and morally corrupt from birth
People who believe that they have a propensity towards being mean, and hateful, and harmful towards themselves, towards others, towards the EarthMother, towards Life itself, towards existence
It is not true
As a mother...I know the tiny innocent creatures full of love for life...full of hope for others...full of a zeal for living and a deep spiritual connection with everyone and everything around them that we ALL ARE
I know that this is the truth of Who and What we all ARE
It is no deeper than that
but
It is no less than that either
Friday, April 4, 2008
Iba A Se...I pay homage to
My earliest memories are lying in your lap and being rocked to sleep
Trying to suck my thumb and you telling me that that would make my teeth look like Bugs Bunny...vanity got me even then...smile...so I stopped
Trying to suck my thumb and you telling me that that would make my teeth look like Bugs Bunny...vanity got me even then...smile...so I stopped
Sleeping with you in our bed in Grandmaw's house, with the big portrait of you that hung over the fire place in our room...looking at that portrait every day and thinking how beautiful you are and praying to look like you
The sweet smell that permeated our room
Of being left at your best friend's mother's house and how long the hours would seem before I saw you again...and how I would cry an cry and cry myself to sleep cause I could not stand or understand being separated from you, your sweet smell and your face
You coming home from work and bringing me half eaten packages of life savers, being jiggled on your lap while you talked on the phone....not really liking it BUT not wanting it to end, cause I wanted to be close to you
Standing up beside you in our red VWbug and you putting your hand out to shield me when the car stopped
Watching you dress, watching you put on your make up, dancing with you, laughing with you, wanting so desparately to be as much like you as possible for so long
I also remember the turbulent years
Me blossoming into womanhood and your difficulty accepting it
I remember telling you of my first kiss and my decision to get on the pill after I went away to college
I remember how we fought every day after I turned 14
I remember the migraines I suffered from daily trying to negotiate the sharp stones and twists and turns of our relationship
I remember you dropping me off and college and saying "You grown now" and driving away
I remember you saying, "My mother never said it to you, but I do not want to die without saying it to you, I AM PROUD OF YOU" when I graduated from Fisk
I remember our arguments, our debates about Afrikan religion
giving the children Afrikan names
eating a vegetarian diet
I remember not being able to talk to you to share with you, to be with you
I remember being cut off from the one person in the world whose opinion means as much to me as my own
And I remember falling before my ancestral altar and asking your mother about it and her saying to me clearly
"She does love you, soo much, please understand that she is doing the best that she can do"
And making peace within myself
I remember watching you slip away, lose your mind, leave me , leave us, leave this world
AND STILL
you had grace, your beauty would still cause folx to stop and stare...still You were You
And I remember waiting for the rest of you to slip away into the land of the Ancestors
My touchstone
My centerpost
My earth
My sky
My creatrix
The Source from which I sprang, almost singlehandedly
Your life taught me how to live my life
Taught me not to ever answer to anyone but myself
Taught me not to put dogma over personal preferences or true actual goodness
Taught me that when you are truly yourself, you will be respected
you will be honored
you will be loved
no matter what
You were unconventional ALWAYS and ALL WAYS
you lived life on your own terms and died death that way too
You loved who you liked and dared the world to say you nay
You bore seven of us and raised five of us by yourself AND our life was rich and luxurious and we and you were envied
You are STILL the prettiest woman in the world, even though you've left this world
You told me I was a witch before I was five and you gave me every spell you knew
My queen my goddess
I pay homage to you Mama
Enter into the Ancestral Realm with peace, with glory
Knowing that not only did you live your life here on Earth well
You did it your way, as only you could have
I am honored to have sat at your feet
to have come from your womb
to have walked by your side
to be yours
Your loving daughter
After a 13 year struggle with Alzhiemers My mother passed away last Tuesday, March 25th
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