Trying to figure it all out

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Turbulent waters

Tonight I witnessed myself and two others on a boat. It was amidst peaceful waves that pushed us gently and steadily towards a common place and destination. Where, not one of us knew but we were lead by the current of spirit. One of us felt a discord, one of us got angry and frightful. One of us reached out in the only way we knew how, to gain control over the situation based on our passed experience of dealing with issues like this. I sat in the middle of this boat angered as either side tried to get to their point of where we were going, how we should get there, was our boat worth boarding or should we let it capsize and separately swim to sure. I know in my heart we were in this boat not for us, we were in this boat to get to a place, to bring something with us to a destination. To be guided by spirit but to impart that spirit of us onto others, we could help if we could only get to sure. No matter how turbulent the waves, no matter how dark the sky seemed to get. Lightning and anger flashed in beautiful but horrific displays, winds of shifting personalities and thoughts whipped our hair and very clothes around, emotion like water in time with the ebb and flow pulling at us and dictating the direction in which we could go although we collectively felt lost.

My thoughts raced back to Our lady of Charity, and the three men in that boat. Light surrounded us slowly but surely we just had to open up to it in order to see it. Love was just peaking through the storm clouds, the water of our emotions reflecting in small specs against the shadowy surface. I felt my anger break I felt myself rise within myself, I shall not be silenced I walked away from the boat... I walked on water like the old stories of Jesus and let the boat go. I knew that either of the two were lost in their own thoughts, then they too got out of the boat. They walked on waves we three spoke our peace. We got to shore where we hugged, we embraced, we brought with us that trinity. Holy things always in threes, we were finally on sure without realizing it. Commonality in our goal, egos hurt, feelings still processing, LOVE still present.... we know there are so many more boat rides, train rides, living rooms to go.

Captain & Tenille plays in the back of my mind " Love! Love will keep us together!"

We turned I looked back I bathed in cool waters and thanked La Caridad del cobre, Our Lady of Charity and thanked her for our own private exchange during the storm, during the turbulent waves.

My calling

I met someone humble, genuine, he was jovial. His crown was the ocean and its depths, the force of his crown was the mother who fights for her children who gives into the anger or love and fights and defends ferociously and efficiently. His name was Leo, Okoto was the crown.
I was brought into a room where a myriad of colors splashed across a singular room. Women in white head wraps with a scarlet parrot feather tucked somewhere in their knot. Dark and light colored people with the whitest of clothes, emanating a glow of freshness somewhat angelic in appearance.
I see one corner of the room draped in the most delicate and colorful cloth. They draw your eyes to them without your permission. Helpless to the beauty and intricacies you see strewn in the most thoughtful of ways. I see multicolored tureens and Porcelain jars draped in fine cloth and adorned with decorated beaded Necklaces that denote royalty to the fullest degree. Inside the porcelain confines are but a bit of harnessed energy, a bit of a force of nature. I liken it to capturing a bit of lightning or thunder in a jar. Heat and energy is raised around the room as a few men start playing drums. There voices hard and raspy still make the most beautiful of songs as they sing songs of ages old. Africa makes itself known, the motherland comes through bubbling up from our very cells, our soul, through our pores, out of our mouths into our limbs. Making us move to a rhythm that takes over our very being, we move, we sway, we spin, we step in line with those around us who are doing specific movements for one of the Orishas.
This cant be the same religion I have heard about, this cant be this dark secretive practice I have heard about in the media. This once believed Devil worship by myself only a few months ago which only through education, showed me they have no devil and devil is purely a christian concept.
This couldn't be anything but pure beauty. What could be more pure than to accept, acknowledge, and appreciate the earth on which we live? This is what Orisha is, they are the very essence of Nature, the very invisible and potent forces that make things what they are.
I felt a connection, nothing that could be explained only felt. It rang through me, reverberating through my soul as if a bell as rung, my core in tune with these drums. Each beat of the drum echos in sync with my heart, my limbs and torso find a movement that feels too natural too right and somehow. I look around i am moving the same as some others standing in my midst, no need for taught choreographed movement's, this was spirit, this was community. I found a link to my ancestors, I was naked my soul was bared, I was giving in to this sound, this feeling. This is more than me, this is above me, this is ME. I'm a willing instrument, a vessel awaiting to be prepared in order to receive one of these forces of nature, this part of the divine. I am home recognition floods my brain, I am overwhelmed with emotion. Dejavu implies I have experienced this before, but I cannot recollect a single memory. I'm in love with this feeling, I'm in love with this community, I m in love with this music, I'm in love with Nature, with the earth.
I am home.

Chill

Winter moon high in the sky,

yet Darkness binds me

My Soul is worn bleak

Snow capped mountains on the horizon emote the numbness of my head

Slow moving thoughts my movements sluggish and exhausting

Haunting memories like out of tune melodies resound between my ears

Once again closet doors open Skeletons creep, Zombies stumble, and Ghosts materialize

Forced to wield a pensive two edge sword

Against unfamiliar long forgotten experiences, decisions of years past, days of old

DAMN! Why am I so cold?

My windows must be open

Eyes, Windows to the soul letting in the chilling reality

Do I dare look? Do I want to see?

I close them

I consult with my own private genie. My Djinn, my personal bottle that houses spirits

Warm liquid fire I drink of its fount

Fire that burns then warms and yet still numbs

My bones stop their rattle

The Apparitions disappear the closet door appears bolted and unbothered

Courage surges through my veins, I scream

The bellow has reason, has rhyme and reason, words and song

I sing loud, I sing until my chest aches

My eyes squeezed shut small pools develop in the corners

Its sunrise.. I start another day....

Do not have time to think

Don't feel a thing

A n automaton, going through the motions

Another day new sites

The cold still can be sensed looming strong in the peripheral

ever ready to return

Changes and phases

I looked at the full moon the other night. It gleamed in my eye,a chill passed over my body and a recognition ages old came to me. I had no choice but to attribute it to the spirit guides that forever surround me, ancestors and ethereal beings who make themselves known in many ways. I was urged to greet a Gypsy guide I have and to take three sacred tools of hers and placing them in the light of the moon. One a Crystal ball on a three prong pedestal , the other a glass of water with an Blue evil eye ward in it, and a deck of cards wrapped in a moonstone talisman. I asked the moon to illuminate my conscious, I asked her to bless my path and help me develop my intuition. As my intuition is bound with the element of water and the blood that runs through my veins. I ebb, I flow I am one with the natural laws that exist and predate us all.
I had a series of dips in moods, mostly lows but some highs. All week verging on wanting to scream and strangle folks, then wanting to cry and escape into a trance avoiding reality and putting on my Ipod and earphones.
I read a blog by the brilliant and ever so wise Elizabeth Cunningham and I read Maeve's words that say we follow what the moon has been trying to tell us for the longest times, Its all a phase... Isn't it?! Isn't all a balance? Ups and downs, rights and lefts... You cant have it all how you want it or expect it.You kind of let things flow, you take things as they come. Does the tide complain and or fight the pull of the moon? I doubt it, it moves as it should as instinct and nature demands of it and it finds a purpose.
Like Sisyphus you can roll the rock uphill and view it as a curse or you can make peace with it and find a purpose with in it.

Warrior Women

I will keep this short...

Everyday women fight. They fight themselves in trying to love what they see in their mirror. Trying to embrace the plump young breasts or the memory of, as they begin to perhaps sag in some places. Dimples that replace once firm thighs and buttocks.

They fight their fellow women as they have to keep up with some appearances in hopes to be socially accepted. They forever look for the comfort and company of their fellow sistern, looking for some bond that is ageless and seems more of a myth although their intuition tells them otherwise.

They fight their their male counterparts in a world where they are looked on as emotionaly unstable, dramatic, under par, less than... It has been said a man could never handle being a woman for a week let a lone a lifetime. Men couldnt handle the emotional capacity to bare a child and bond with it for 9months having it be OF them.

Women are Strength in the guise of the softest bodies. The external nothing but a husk that hides an undercurrent of resillience, a well of deep intuition and timeless beauty.

Women are warriors all in themselves. Look at the many mothers with single children, look at the women who have to work everyday to make a a quarter to every mans dollar, look at the women who recieve men and women in love in the purest sensual moments, and yet have to be judged by the world.

Women look forward and up, never behind or down. Be regal, accept your queendom.