The Tides of Destruction

I’ve been in a space of deep-seated anger.

Deep-seated anger—you know, the type of anger that makes you feel restless. When you hear something that feels so contrary to your nature, you feel the slightest bit of resistance in your body and suddenly, the need to lash out! To yell, to scream “SEE ME! HEAR ME! Feel me”

Yeah, that type of anger.

I think we each feel it. It’s been such a wild two years hasn’t it? All the hopes and dreams of what we built on the fragility of “security” wasted away as a virus came in and snatch the rug from underneath our feet. Reminding us that safety and security was never quite that safe. Oh but we knew this. We knew it. Don’t lie—haven’t there been a many of times that you walked outside to take a stroll around the block and a young man smiled in your face, his eye lingering a bit longer than you’d like? And you found yourself confused, wondering “do I have something on my face?”

You felt it—in times were you were prompted to speak aloud in front of a group of people and not only to speak aloud but to speak CLEARLY. Efficiently. Effectively. To move people with a deep sense of conviction and admiration. And safety was stripped away just as quickly as you were asked to speak, wondering “what would they think about me?”

Living in the illusion of safety has helped us only in as so far as we are able to see it’s illusion. To understand that safety means to truly feel that you have a right to be here. Deep in your bones, to feel it vibrate in your soul, “I have a right to be here. To exist”. But a good majority of us do not feel this.

How could we? Our history is convoluted with so much pain and suffering, the stripping of our very humanity and oh, the tales and stories of slavery! A sure disease that makes us feel so unworthy.

Yeah, this anger is layered deep.

I’ve been frustrated. How have we sold ourselves a tale of lies? Lies that have made us so unseemingly, we have forgotten that to walk on this earth is not a privilege but a birth right. That to exist is to play out Gods plan perfectly and to create is to truly be free. I’ve been angry.

And so many will say—“a woman?? Angry? A black woman at that, not a foreign sight—it’s to be expected! They walk the earth so bitterly, of course you would find the likes of her angry.”

But you see…my anger is holy. From the same womb that created this existence, I gaze into your face and witness bliss. The sweet symphony of all of humanity, a gift that has been graced to touch the Holy Mother, as feet kiss the ground that created our flesh. As spirit sanctified our breath.

So you see, hell yeah, I’ve been angry. We are so much more that we have become to be if only we would allow ourself to ascend gracefully. To remind each other that money, prestige, the likes of intellect and the mind can hardly superseded the stirrings of the heart and spirit that created all that be.

I hope our anger allows us to wash to the shore of God’s feet and infinite awakening gently.

I pray that our anger allows us all to be free.

I remember you

the lines of your face, deeply groomed grassy heaven

My tears furled in the crevice of dark tresses

I remember you

Dark, tall and handsome

An enigma

Not seeking to be chased but enjoying

The thrill of desire

I remember you

We lay, sprawled between silk lies

A tangle of webs caught between several truths

Things we’d hoped our hearts would hide

But see…I remember you

A wistful tale of love unrequited

Or perhaps too immature to ignite this fire

So important to my own song—

I suppose you’d helped me find my own

Touching traces of insecurity

So that I would unveil the real me

Not so pretty or so peaceful, no:

Painfully human, fleeing ease and flow

I recall—

Much laughter in the height of the morning

3am, hearts soaring

Recalling dreams of tomorrow

Though it’s actions turned sour

A hidden place inside of me

Stories never ventured, still unseen

You see…I remember you

The thrills of diving to the deepest end

Pulling me back to my waters ocean

Liquid desire tracing back to the Source

A sure testament of love as a compelling, mystique force

I recall, infinite stories of who we’d wish to be

Becoming all that God meant for me

Perhaps trading in another,

to reignite my own energy

Yes…you gave me a wonderful gift

The gift of remembering me

I remember me.

———

I guess love is never truly lost

Never taken or held behind

A finite fire smothered on a summers night

Illuminating the path to witness the stars shine

Gazing above, the heavens hanging on the edge of time

Reminding that it’s presence has always been alive

Time has taught me time and time again

Human love is only for the purpose of true remembrance

———

I saw God’s face

He smiled softly

Drove me deeper into the cold waters that met me

Cleansed grime and smut from clouded soul

Embracing insecurities and wounds of old

Salt stitching each layer of raw skin

Purging the cloud of sin from within

Loss and doubt that arose in a lack of faith

I’m happy that our imperfect love led me back to God’s face

Thank you

For leaving this memory of you.

Limitless Living—The Art of Detachment

If there’s anything I’ve learned from traveling, I know how essential it is to pack light.

Traveling across the country has been a grace only inso much as you are able to practice a keen amount of flexibility. Some days will be absolute chaos—moving luggage from one place to the next, gathering groceries for the upcoming week, trying to build a temporary home out of a foreign location. The ability to be flexible is an indispensable trait that allows for one to have a deeper experience in new locations, an ability to nurture self-compassion in difficult moments and encourage growth. This flexibility in traveling, I’ve observed, is also something that is integral for our ability to create a healthy space psychologically as well.

To “pack light” literally means the way it sounds—to release baggage that simply is not helping us any longer. We each have years of experience, mental concepts and perspectives that become crystallized as we get older. But some of these crystalline perspectives cost us the ability to have inner growth. Or even inner peace. We feel heavy because we hold old stories to our chests, as if those stories even defined us; we clench tightly to old hurts and forgo forgiveness even as our palms bleed from the strain of constriction; we attack ourselves in the name of “self-preservation”, though it does nothing but damage our own inner trust. And when time comes for us to fly, we wonder why we are the bird that never leaves the nest. Leading to inevitable death.

To enjoy travel not only means enjoying seeing and experiencing a freshness of life around me, but also within myself. I can no longer afford the brunt of holding on to past hurts that no longer serve my ability to be peaceful and joyful in the present moment—my hands are too weary. I can no longer afford to spend the duration of my short time of this earth in self-caused pain, suffering and stagnation—my time is too precious. And I can no longer make excuses for worldly attachments fastening around my neck, keeping me tied to slippery ground, causing a rigidity in my uptight spine—I am meant to fly high above until I reach back into the heavens.

This is what it means to live a life that is limitless. A life that is all mine; a story between God and I, letting go of everything in between. I am so far beyond being defined by the resting place I place my head and so I will journey this world like a traveler—building a home within God only and myself.

What does living limitless look like to you?

The Breakdown Before the Breakthrough

Have you ever experienced a moment where you are feeling overworked, exhausted or a lack of motivation?

We live in a society that tells us that we must find a way to sustain ourselves, build an accumulation of power, turn our creativity in to profit and be of some help to others. In this same society, there is an overemphasis of intellectualism, “following the herd” mentality and overworking. In this paradigm, there is this created image of success that glamorizes monetary wealth but sacrifices inner spiritual relationship to God and Self. This overexertion can cause one to feel undervalued, overworked and still yet, under-appreciated which of course makes way for one to experience something that many of us abhor – burn-out.

Burn-out literally feels the way it sounds, as previous innocent intention give away to others expectations or requirements of your behavior, work ethic or social responses. We begin to move in ways that we do not quite understand—like saying “yes” just to say “yes” and fearing the repurocutions (sp?) if we were dare utter our “no”. We begin to take jobs that we do not truly enjoy, simply so that we can “pay the mortgage”. We stay in relationships that no longer feed us for fear of being alone and/or undesirable. We pay attention to what others are doing because we don’t trust that we know what’s good for us and we hate ourselves for it. We begin to lie to ourselves about our innermost feelings because if we truly faced our sufferings we feel that we would crumble. Until one day—we do.

This is burn out. It’s the moment where you realize that you have walked way too far along the wrong path and still have not found a way back home. Feet burning, legs aching, you frantically run amuck in circles, searching for a kind place to lie your head, some semblance of peace but find only suffering. And that’s when you realize your suffering comes from a place where you can no longer hide—within yourself.

If you read any of this and began to cringe as if bugs crawled beneath your skin, I want you to know that you are not alone. Many people around the globe feel like this every single day. Many people have felt this way for years and still dragged their feet along a stubborn path to a home they knew was never meant for them. And they pay in their suffering, in their lack of self-worth or self-respect, in their meekness and frailness in spirit. They pay in their lack of and resentment of living.

This is a story we hear all too often. But aren’t you tired of hearing this story? Aren’t you tired of living it? I know I was. Burn out should not be shunned or quietly placed in the back of our pockets or the corners of our mind when we hear its shadows heavy foot steps, but invited in so that it can burn through foundations of a home that was never built on truth. Its fire rekindles a sense of surrender as it strips us away from false illusions and places us into our hearts. And through withstanding the pain of loss; of shame; of guilt; the freedom of truth—we are left to look at the pieces of material left in its dust and make the conscious decision to begin this process of starting anew. Of creating a home built from the vibrations of a child’s innocent laughter; walls painted in the love of our ancestors; brick by brick built from the strength of resilience; protected from prayers in tongue from holy mystics; dripping in the creative and loving spirit of The One.

And I…. well I am your neighbor helping you to put layers of brick upon brick, while sharing beautiful stories of women and men who made it their life’s mission to live well. To live honorably. To be authentic. Listening to your story, I am the one who reminds you that we are beyond our past, actively stitching together old wounds and forgiving ourselves for past ignorance. I am your neighbor sharing from the fruits of my garden, teaching you to plow, tend the soil, plant the seed and water natural life. In the hopes that my fruits and your growing fruits become our fruits sharing with one another recipes of old, basking in the wonderous blessings of living.

Welcome to the catalyst for your home-coming.

Welcome to the community healer.

Find me on Instagram @thecommunityhealer_

The Art of Being in Flow

Do you really trust your Creator?

Do you even trust yourself?

From self-observation, one will find there are many ego games at play all in one instance. When we talk of surrender, we literally mean the ability to be able to completely relinquish control— or the illusion of such in which we place our faith in the hands of our Creator. Surrender requires trust: understanding that God’s plans are much more unbounded and perfect than our own. Some may say that they find surrender on the mat in the midst of yoga. When one contorts their body into pretzel-like poses or even a simple leaning forward onto stretched out legs, feeling muscles pulse in their struggle to release its hold, break, tear and form deeper into this shape.

Or perhaps surrender comes during that moment in meditation where words become sparse and one begins to hear sounds circling around them. Listening to cars whiz by; laughter from children across the street at a playground; birds in flight, the wind carrying melodious chirps or; a slight ringing sound of silence. In those moments where oneself begins to blend with the world around them, the realization that separation is the mass hallucinogenic illusion we’ve all implicitly agreed upon becomes ever so clear.

Maybe surrender arrives in the midst of prayer. When a chant and intention becomes vibration—pulsating across a thousand membranes and cells implanting itself through muscle memory. Our voices mirroring the very tremors that shaped the universe. With Gods name heavy on our tongue, hearts begin to tremble at the humble awareness of the familiar essence of its Creator. Reverence becoming our name, we bow our heads in humility understanding our own creation and God’s mercy in manifesting us.

In reality, many humans have issues with surrender in many aspects of daily living. Perhaps it’s a trouble to commit to a routine, to acknowledge our imperfection, a negligence to pull ourselves from self-importance, a lack of humility, difficulty with bowing our heads in prayer or even admitting that we do not have all of the answers.

The lesson of surrender arrives in many forms; in many that we have endured during this very year. As difficult as it may get, I am keen to remember that surrender often arrives in places where God seeks to be revered. In these spaces, we are asked to drop the force of “personal will” to allow something much bigger and wiser than ourselves to emerge. We are joined with the force of nature which knows no illusory separation and fully submits itself to the will of the Creator, following His commandments. And due to this submission, nature poses as eternally and infinitely beautiful—a reflection of God Himself which stands as a reminder to those whom seek wisdom. This wisdom allows for us to reclaim the seat of our being, causing the to submergence into submission and reemerge of our likeness of God, thus returning to our own timeless divine nature. In this we never fear the illusion of death as we return to infiniteness.

Thus our very breath turning into a return, reverence and prayer to The Most High.