Reimagining My Life

Life after becoming an Aborisha has been phenomenally beautiful and extremely challenging to say the least. I realize that the narratives of my life are being completely dismantled and I am forced out of the comforts of my old ways of coping. 

I am no longer able to do what I used to do when triggered by things from my past. I am having to feel all the feels, cry the tears that I typically hold in, speak my truth, even sleep now. My spirit was tired of living a lie. I am not invincible- I am human.

My daily prayers and connection to my ancestors as well as my Ori is causing me to also express my worth in a way that I never thought I would before. I am saying no to people I never would have before, declining dates if it doesn’t resonate with me, even restructuring my business to charge what I know I am worth. The standards that I am setting for myself and others are foreign to me- but, so very necessary. 

I am seeing how so many of the connections that I held so dear before, that I fought so hard for, were never healthy for me. But, there is comfort in familiarity. Familiarity almost got away with the last remnants of me. Not anymore. 

I am seeing how all things have been aligning for such a time as this. I have desires that surpass the mundane, passions that I had put down because of obligations, and a cultivation of practices that I must work on right now. Time is of the essence.

I am resolving to live this life fully, on my own terms, in full pursuit of my destiny. I have waited and ran away long enough. There is so much that awaits me on the other side of this reimagination period. This is the first time that I am living in a space with so much peace, feeling so much ease, being able to be totally and completely A. 

I am having to sit with my emotions, cut the cords from all the dysfunction, function as the diving being as I am. Besides the ramblings and disagreements of my children, the only other sound is of my own growth- the uncomfortable quiet of being with myself. It is scary this new existence- but I am also so grateful. 

So grateful

 

Ashaki

Going Back to Move Forward

This past weekend I felt inclined to visit my family’s old neighborhood and old farm. As I drove down old Skillet Road, it was as if I was being guided to go back, to understand who they were, to stand on the earth they had farmed, to reconnect with the past.

Initially, I visited my great-grandmother’s old house that also stands right beside the house I grew up in. A dilapidated shack now, but still the remnants of the house that once held so much joy very much visible. I remember sitting on the porch in the summer, shelling peas with my great-grandmother and Grandma Lillie, listening to them talk, feeling the heat of the Southern heat. I remember sitting on her porch, my barefeet touching the stone steps, feeling the coolness of the concrete on my skin in the evenings.

On the other side of our old lot , there used to stand another house that I literally grew up in. My godmother lived there with her daughter and her grandparents. How many days did I spend swinging on the swing, sipping “red” Kool-aid, imagining life far away?

I left Henry Street and drove down to the Skillet. I see so much has changed in town but, not much out in what we call the “country”. I drove and turned onto Skillet Road. I see the old burnt farmhouse is still there but, now there is land for sale. I parked and stood on the land, listened for the elders to tell me what I already know and felt. This land belonged to us and we must reclaim it.

I stood in reverence for once. My people farmed this land, raised livestock, lived a life. Children were born and reared here, traditions were created here, our ways were cultivated here. I left the Skillet and still seemed to hunger for more. These past months as I have continued to research of our family, I have discovered that we moved quite a bit- from Minturn, Clio, other parts of Marlboro County and Dillon county as well, so I drove. And I felt myself churn inside because of my neglect of my own rich history.

I would not exist without these farmers, seamstresses, maids, ex slaves, and such. Would I be as driven, as resilient, as proud, as intelligent, as kind – without these folks? This journey of self-discovery continually drives me back to the ancestors- the ones that I have not properly paid homage to. I will do better. I promise.

 

Ashaki