Sunday - 5/1/22
Sunday mornings. One day I’ll write my way into understanding why this day feels like *this.*
I began this day with Ain’t No Need To Worry x The Winans and Anita Baker. Felt God and my momma there. Hit repeat on Before I Let Go x Beyonce (4) times. Felt God, words of life, community and my family there.
Beautiful, poetic lyrics becoming something more with the assistance of incredible musical production: Escasty. Like this blue water road x Kehlani. I just jumped in but I’ll be here for awhile. “I want you to pick up the pen and write me into your story.”
Speaking of, Viola’s new memoir is stunning. I’m feeling God here, also. Feels like she’s on some higher assignment.
Surrender is teaching me things. Rearranging me. Blowing my mind, actually. Finding that it’s a posture you have to ask yourself to assume every day. I fought against it. I resist things. Rules. Advice. Rules. Myself. But I’ve grown weary of fighting me. My arms are tired. My throat is pushing out the words and pain that I’ve being silently choking on for…well, years. I've learned the resistance will kill me. And today, I'm in the mood to live. I cannot sustain a life that is in perpetual resistance.
The words and sentiments on this blog are circling the same bush. The bush is speaking (ugh). Even if it’s repetitive. It’s the process. It’s showing me me. Some possibilities concerning this life of mine. And then some.
What do you want in the second half of this year? What do you need? You should have and do some of those things. You get to explore your own new chapters just as thoroughly as you support the becoming of everything and everyone else around you. Why not you and why not now. You deserve.
Discovering that healing feels especially good. I mean really, really good. I know this is not an absolute feeling. Things shift. Things will shift. Including where I find myself along this healing path. But it’s an absolutely amazing thing to watch yourself coming together in ways you could have never imagined.
First day of May. May is a month that will forever conjure feelings of loss. There’s a date stamp to commemorate the loss. But May contains more life than death. May always reminds of (water)ing, flowering, blossoming, becoming. The moment when the messy metamorphosis is at least less messy. There is possibility here. Potential. Birth. A kind of dying. Re-birth. God is here. The ancestors are here. Love is here and it’s here in abundance for our having. There’s a particular sorting and harvesting happening here in May.
Also, Alice’s Walker’s Gathering Blossoms Under Fire….is like, I don’t know, like being invited into a most private place and being asked to take a seat, to listen, to learn, to observe, to consider and stay. And stay some more. “I have been reading Tolstoy and wondering how one comes to true honesty with oneself and at which point honesty becomes exaggeration.” -Alice Walker
Maybe we need to invest more time into our own gathering. A gathering of truths, stories, lies - looking at what’s in our hands, what’s lying dormant on our tongues, in our wombs. A gathering of self and pushing that gathered self out into or unto something.