Today was definitely filled with magic moments…and I am giving thanks for every one.

January 7th, 2011:

In seven days I will turn 36.  I keep saying that recently… mentioning it to almost everyone i speak to; as if i’m trying to remind my Self that it is true…testing their reaction, as if trying to decide whether 36 is old or not.

I don’t feel old. I feel brand new. There is an enchanting feeling of newness…rebirth… beginnings…i have been in a cocoon…hiding, hurting, healing and always growing…but not yet ready to step out.

Now i am poking my toe out, smoothly followed by my calves and firmly by my thighs. I am ready to step out.

I am ready to stretch and show the boundlessness of my imagination. I am ready to sleep more…dance more…sing more…love again…to work harder and with more discipline at everything.

I am ready to slide into the softness of my womanhood…to caress the inner folds of mySelf…

To probe the strength that lies therein.

Ribbons of smoke wind their way up from the stick of incense; fading into nothingness and leaving behind them their strong and sticky odour…I am sitting here in the deep darkness of the night, taking in the hum and click of the fan; the soft and steady drumbeat of the ocean; the giggles and murmurings of my neighbour sitting talking to a man outside. I am aware of the feeling of the cloth against my skin…the coarseness of my skirt made from cheap and beautiful Indian cotton, as it lies there, draping around my toes,. I can feel the heaviness of my bangles. The straw mat underneath me pricks me, yet feels like it shifts to cushion my weight. Someone has just turned on a TV, as a car drives slowly by. The only lights I see are the bright screen of my laptop, and the reflection of the light from the street lamp outside, which glides over the grill and sneaks through my window to create a fancy curved pattern on the wall of my living room.

I am taking deep breaths and becoming aware of the moment, and the one that follows it, and the one right after that…I am focussing on the physical feeling of being here, while probing the different parts of mySelf to touch what lies in there, and to listen to any answers that may be whispered into my tilted ear.

The feeling which overcomes me is Calm. The sounds of the moment(s) are comforting…reminding me of some time past that I cannot quite remember, but which my Spirit recognises in a hearbeat. Underneath the calm pulse other things, those-thoughts-and-emotions-that-drove-me-to-sit-on-a-straw-mat-in-the-dark-in-front-of-a-laptop and… Write.

My day was one of roller coaster rides; and as I am sitting here, I have just had a beautiful realisation that in the course of this one day I have processed millions of thoughts which generate millions of emotions and reactions…I realise that I am more cognisant of some than others; and I rub my tired knees in love and encouragement to let mySelf know that this is all a part of the process, and that I am doing just fine.

I am working things out and forging new beginnings. I am creating and re-creating on a daily…second-to-second, minute-to-minute, hour-to-hour, and day-to-day basis. I am falling down and getting back up. I am taking wrong turns and right ones, but always I continue to turn. I am not throwing in the towel, or any other metaphor for giving up. I am not giving in. I am trusting more and more that I bring a Divine gift to this world…and that that Divine gift is Me.

I am loving and allowing mySelf to be loved. I am seeing mySelf in the eyes and hearts and souls of others and recognising that they see something Beauty-full and amazing in me…and I am learning to trust them when they show that they see it. I am learning to give love without expectations of it being returned, and acknowledging the abundance in which it is being heaped on me.  I am enjoying connecting with people I do not know. I am enjoying getting to know them, if even for ten minutes.

I am choosing not to take people for granted, recognising how much it hurts when others do that to me. I am asking more questions, and learning to listen to answers…both those I love, and those I cannot stomach.

I am learning to speak up for myself without conflict or apology.

In this perfect moment, I am still not in possession of some things; but I am the Owner of many.many.many more.  For over a moth, my car has been in the shop, which has forced me to take the bus and to walk…and I am walking to places I have never seen (after almost 16 years in Kingston), nor would have; and so I thankfully accept that for now, I am carless.  I am thankful for what I have because I know that there is an abundant store of goodness which I am already experiencing, and which exists without limit or end.

I find mySelf wanting to stand and sit with people and talk. I want to Speak.  I have something to say that can only be said by/like me.  My voice sometimes catches in my throat because as big as my mouth is, I feel that I have not yet begun to share the vastness of my words…and sometimes I wonder if I know how…but I do know how.

I want to massage places that hurt, both in others and mySelf…and to touch the faces of babies, boys, women, girls and men to assure us all that our beauty goes beyond the size of breasts, the length of hair, the smoothness or clour of skin, or the girth of penises.  I want to remind us of the overused cliche that Beauty lies within, and to assure mySelf and others that the reason the saying still exists is because it is as true as Time. The Beauty within each of us is as individual as our thumbprint, and I find myself looking forward to exploring Beauty in her changing skins.

In this moment I am calm…happy…thankful…aware…tired…deep breathing…mellow…greasy…anxious…pensive…I am here.

…I am in love with my body. I am a Woman because I love the smooth lines of my breasts, and the curve of my hips. I am a Woman because I am not afraid or ashamed to bear the beauty of my nakedness…because I enjoy the act of sharing and receiving love through sexual and sensual intimacy…because I love the roundness of my stomach and my ass…the strength of my arms and the sink in my back.

I am a Woman because I am both delicate and strong…because I can cry without fear, and know that it does not diminish my status as a warrior…I am a Woman because I know that my tears have the power to heal…and that they can also signal an impending storm.

I am a Woman because I can own up to when I have done wrong and strive to do and Be better. I am a Woman because I feel things in my womb…because I trust my gut as much – and sometimes more – than my head.

I am Woman because I am a Mother. a Lover, a Sister, a Healer and a friend…I am a Woman because I recognise the depth and breadth of Womanhood, and know that it is not defined by one thing, but that it exists in many forms.

I am a Woman because I Am…Me.

Twenty years of age. Excited to be in university and away from home. New lease on life…freedom. New boyfriend; new experiences…new life. He came to my room on hall one night and dragged me down a flight of stairs. I lost a shoe along the way.  Trying to save face, so I passed room after room with sleeping and waking bodies…making an effort to be silent so that no-one would witness my shame. Betrayed again by someone who whispered ‘I love you’ in moments of passion. Quieting my voice, and allowing his anger free reign to silence me once again.

Twenty-two.  One blow to the face. One slap to make me reconsider my decision to go. I fought back this time. This one was not going to reduce me to silence…so I fought back; burying the pain felt at the familiarity of this…this feeling that can never be put into words.  The absolute pain and disbelief that comes when hands that were meant to caress are clenched into fists of fury. This feeling of having my voice ripped out of me. This feeling of not mattering to someone who mattered to me.

I am crying as I write this. Crying for the girl-woman that was; but also in thanks and respect for her strength. What others saw as weakness was her way of coping…of bearing the pain to save others…my mother from the hurt of knowing that had happened…a selfish university student whose school life she did not want to be cut short…

Silence is the great captor of experience. It allows tragedies to continue unacknowledged…and monsters in the form of wo/men to inflict their pain on others.

This is my Story of Strength.

This weekend, at the invitiation of an NGO in St.Maarten called Safe Haven Foundation, I had an amazing experience with a power-full and beauty-full group of women. What was one of the things that touched me was the diversity in the room…We each have different stories…different perceptions of Self…we are in different kinds of love relationships…have different beliefs about God…In the room merged multi-coloured experiences, which collectively wove together to create a beautiful tapestry of Womanhood.

The beauty, pain, strength, sadness, triumph and determination that were tattooed across our stories left me literally faint with exhaustion afterwards.  It took every drop of energy, and the appearance of a good friend of mine to rouse me from my bed the next day. I have never felt so beautifully exhausted, and I give eternal thanks that I was able to play a part in creating and participating in such a powerful space of healing.

I truly felt like that experience was one in which I was simply a vessel. I came to bring some level of healing and understanding for them, and they to do the same for me. We shared beautiful moments, proving that sisterhood crosses boundaries of nation and nationhood.  If we are able to open ourselves honestly, without fear of rejection, and to speak our stories and experiences with courage, there really is nothing that can undermine us.

It also highlighted for me the true role of a facilitator. In a way, we act as conduits…channelling the passage for Spirit to flow between different expressions of itSelf. In its purest, and most liberating form, this flow moves along an intricate cobweb, diminishing the artificial barrier of ‘teacher’ and ‘student’.  As much as I may have given the women who participated in Saturday’s workshop, they passed on to me. I felt stronger, and younger and lighter through having met them. They massaged somewhere deep within me, and permitted me the space to cry and, in turn, to rub their back as they cried.

The determination to look within without fear or prejudice lies in the womb of each of us women. There may be layers of pain, confusion, self-doubt and resentment that cloak our true emotions…but at the core of it all remains our Woman-Self…A powerful, brave, loving, nurturing and sensuous warrior, who will gladly hold our hands and guide us deeper into the beautifully complex-simple maze which is the creation of Self.

Speak the language that yOU created in the warm cocoon of yoUr MoTher.  Have the courage to really listen to yOur gut/womb/spirit/intuition/ori/Self when s/he speaks…Trust that when yOu hear the whispers or shouts telling you which way to go; that YoU are being led towards all the gifts that are rightfully yoUrs.

Abandon the myth that the Universe and God are unloving and devious entitites with the intention of throwing a spoke in Your wheel.  Know that the depth and breadth of whatever it is that we systematically and truthfully wish for ourselves is enough to carry us towards the KnowledGe that the Universe is in fact a kind and giving Source.

Speak in YouR own understanding of God. Learn to hear the sound of the Creator in the voice of a stranger on the radio whose words caress you with knowing fingers.  See God in the strong and building crest of a wave.  Observe Her in the slow and lazy movements of the leaves in the tree; waving as the Wind blows over them flirtatiously, like a timid yet excited lover blowing in the ear of his Beloved.  Know that God is always around and within…and that by your very nature, you are perfectly in line and worthy to receive Joy…in all her forms…and you deserve This.

Speak in Your Language of Creation. Use words as balm and not weapons. Think long before you speak, and ask God to direct your words.  Know that the Power of words have the ability to forge chasms that neither time now effort can mend.  Know then that they should be used wisely and with great care. Speak your language in the way you dance/talk/think/speak; and choose to speak only words that uplift, and never those that damage.

One of the most beautiful things that i have learnt over the past few years is the saying, “first do no harm”.  What a way to live. Let that be the guiding principle to uplift; and the courage will come to trust the voice of yourSelf.

Miami International Airport, Gate D25

I am sitting on the ground in the waiting area of gate D25 in Miami International Airport. I am waiting for my connecting flight which will take me to Chicago en route to New Delhi, India.  I am heading there to take part in a workshop on Building Global Democracy (*yawn*).  I just bought a book (“The Power” by Rhonda Byrne), as well as an Essence magazine.  I am prepping myself mentally for a 15+ hour flight to Delhi.

New Delhi.  I am so calm about going that I am beginning to wonder if it has even really sunk in yet that that is what I am doing…flying halfway around the world to New Delhi, India…one of the places that I rate highly after Africa as places-I-just-have-to-go-one-day. I think I will land and just be blown away by the largeness of it all. I think that it is only when I arrive in India that it is going to hit me, “Oh shit, I’m in India“.  I am very open about the experience…just kinda watching it to see how it will evolve, and willing and promising myself to make the absolute best of the opportunity.

I am not sure about what this week in India will bring, but one thing I know with all certainty is that the trip will have an impact on me…one way or another.

Change is swirling around me. Last night/this morning I finished (well…almost) moving in to a new home.  It is by the beach in Copacabana, Bull Bay…a small, two-bedroom house that I plan to build into a home for Sade and me.  I am currently heading to the other side of the globe…taking what is, without doubt the longest trip that I have ever taken.  In just over two weeks Sade and I will go to Tobago for two and half weeks to visit and help out my mother, who is going to be having hip replacement surgery soon. It is a much needed break from Jamaica and all that comes with it.

I have had a couple lovers and have come to the unapologetic conclusion that (i) I really am the relationship type, and (ii) lovers don’t really tend to provide that much loving, so I might as well wait for someone I can smile about…a someone who makes me believe in love again, and who looks at me and sees the Beauty-filled Woman that I am…not who i was or who i am trying to be; but the beauty-Full Woman that i already am!

In the meantime I give mySelf to both MySelf and Likkle Miss.  I will fall back in love with me again…re-learning all the nooks and crannys that make me fantastically, and unapologetically Me. I want to learn new things about my daughter, and to hear her secrets and her beautiful inner-most thoughts. I want to keep dancing with her and taking evening walks; picking flowers and taking strolls along the beach. I want to keep perfecting mySelf through her, and the brutal honesty of her Truths.

It is fitting that we are moving to the ocean. In a way I feel like a piece of seaglass…Starting out beautiful, but with jagged edges and a sharpness; gently and roughly thrust against stones and amidst the sand; allowing Time to do what only She can…smoothing the edges, and smoothing things out.

As I go through the Saving of Self, I commit to keep reading, laughing, dancing, talking, sharing and growing, even on the days that it hurts. I claim it…I am a beauty-filled Woman; and I am choosing to preserve something for the beauty-filled Man that i choose to walk beside.

She is a friend who always knows what to say. One of the constant members of my cheering section. Her belief in me is constant. Giving thanks for the friendship and sisterhood of Afifa…a vibrant Sound of Life, whose voice resonates within me.