z. soledad

i have been opening to the blessings of solitude
since, in some ways, i have no choice.

i thought again of names.

zefina soledad

she that god has blessed with increase
yet who is often alone...

some part of my soul has named herself.

and it is good.

victory

lately, there have been many battles.

it's been a long time since i've been this weary.

it's also been a long time since i've felt this strong.

i am resting. building. learning. stretching.

even through tears.

i am the tiger's daughter,
newly named for a nubian lioness.

i know how to rest in the high grass

and wait.

but hunger is a compelling force.

when the time's right
i will pounce
and feast.

expect me.

mother sky

i hear you.

velvet sky dotted with diamonds, whispering secrets.

i'd thought your daughters claimed me;
they must have already known
i was your namesake.

i think i am
what i've always been,
but you stretch me into your infinite space
and tell me i belong
there.

i hear you.

as above, so below: a written meditation

some of us are comets, shooting stars, and meteors, 
meant to flash briefly, beautifully across the sky.

others are stars: fixed, nearly timeless;
distant, but burning bright with exemplary fire.

there are also planets among us:
folks creating and sustaining entire ecosystems in and around ourselves.

the early passing of comets, shooting stars and meteors is painful, but natural. we must let them go, grateful we saw them shine.

it's important to sustain gratitude for the impressions our stars leave behind.  even as they die, they create something new in their wake. 

as for the planets, we must learn to sustain them as they sustain us--for although they appear immortal, they too can pass away.

selah

a prayer to the saint of the brokenhearted...

saint mary magdalene...you heard from the loving lips of your beloved that your many challenges were forgiven because you loved much...

pour out your love on my behalf...your cleansing tears won for you the pardon of lessons learned and the vision of your risen beloved on the horizon.

surely, dear saint, whose love was refused nothing on earth, will graciously replenish us with those blessings, for which i implore your prayers.

ase.

in gratitude

it is such a gift to be learning about myself in this way...

the magnitude and multitude of visions and dream layers.

the sweetness of opening to new experiences and ways of being.

the "chance" encounters that offer new perspective and lovely plumes of fresh air.

Spirit is awesome.

elemental

on: rediscovering energetic flow

for most of my life, i've been content to identify with water, immersing my pisces mermaidself in deep waters at every opportunity.

but i've come to understand that i'm also filled with heat; a flame that can manifest as anything from a flickering candle to a raging wildfire. the temperature varies as well; i've felt it red hot and icy cool.

hot or cool, it embraces and consumes like flame: fully. unapologetically.

now i know the cycle:

my water communes with the spirits.
my fire propels me through the density of this existence.
my air nourishes both.


*interestingly, there's no earth in my chart.

submerged

although i've come to understand and accept the necessity of going underwater, i am still surprised at just how deep and how far under i'll go, given the time and space.

and i know that, over time, it'll only get deeper.

i try not to think of it as "losing days" or ignoring people...

i think (hope) my friends have come to understand...

sometimes the water grabs me.
and i have to let her have her way.

i'll always come back.
promise.

bembe {napowrimo '11, #2}

bare altars
rivers of yellow and blue cloth
topped with elaborate soperas
stare back at me, beckoning.

i reach for them when no one is looking.

the sink is full of dishes
i say i intend to wash
a sheetcake awaits decoration
i can already see finished.

this will be an interesting party.

i keep falling asleep in a small room
where at least three other people
are waking up.
why did i think i was alone?

spain lilts on their tongues
but i am still myself.
who invited me here?

the last time i struggle to wake
my eyes don't work
i know the dream is ending.

my gratitude for the message
is nearly eclipsed by my confusion.

the ever winding path
my ancestors walked
gets longer with each vision.

storm

there are drums and dreams in the thunder...

baba mi...

tumblr post.

idea #28 - cultivate iwa pele

definition*


*i do not know the folks within this Ile, nor am i affiliated in any way. it's simply the best concise definition i found that i could easily link to. also see Awo Fatunmbi's excellent work on ori.

idea #27 - practice mindfulness

idea #26 - practice compassion.

see: guanyin

idea #20 - share what you know about spirit/faith

example #1

example #2

example #3

example #4

example #5

saint day

st. joseph

baby wisdom

my inner child half smiles at me from my ori altar.

in her thick pigtails and striped shirt, she could either be entering a fit of giggles or preparing to ask some profound question in the way only a 4 or 5 year old can.

i have no way of knowing for sure, but i am fairly certain she is a more innocent version of me. the sweetness before the pain.

my last therapist was also a shaman. once, near the end of a session, she asked if i knew someone named anne. when i told her no, she asked me to think about it. anne wanted to teach me, needed me to listen to her.

i became still, and it dawned on me: anne was part of my own name.

full of grace, mercy.
prayerful.
god favors me.

my inner child was speaking. she remembered why i came.

and now, finally, i feel like i might be catching on.

the constant challenge of empathy

full. overwhelmed. grateful. questioning.

there is, at once, so much joy, grief, tension, cooperation, splintering.

confused wisdom. glimpses of bliss, connection. collective frustration, pain.

i am trying to let it pass over and around rather than through me...keep it just outside my consciousness instead of allowing it to take over completely...

sometimes i forget to shield myself.

sometimes i can't do what "everyone else" does.

i need extra space to breathe and dream in.

sometimes i forget to take it.

understanding

oshun mends my heart.
sango sharpens my mind.
ogun lends his machete.
olokun gives me rest.

i am grateful.

understanding (napowrimo #10)

for miss lizzie, lena mcpherson, lauren olamina, marie levant 
and their real-life counterparts

how do i tell you
i can belong to no one
because i belong to all?

i am always myself
and others;
walking between worlds,
i could be snatched from your arms
before your next stroke
return with knowledge of
ancient ritual and
a recipe for a healing bath
before the next.

who takes my place?
usually one of your past life lovers
grateful for the chance to see you again. 

she'll offer blessings
later...

before i can tell you
i love you
i have to determine
which voice i'm speaking in
who i'm speaking for
what language i'm translating from
and what part of you
i'm speaking to...

it will be
complicated 
with me.