going with change
A few weeks ago I cut my locs. It was around June 24th actually. I had been meditating on this change for about a year. I miss them. I miss them as though they were old friends who have moved far away. In many ways, they were…are. It took days of thoughtful introspection to come to my decision. Finally, after cutting only the front and cornrowing it for a while, I decided to go all the way. I committed them to the fire and gave them up to the ancestors. All the stories of my life were sealed through the fire and now reside in the Akashic records, the memory of the cosmos. Each inch of loc was a moment in my life. Each growth spurt a second in time. They were my tome, the story of who I was and who I had become. Even more than missing them for the great energy and history they carried, I miss their warmth upon my shoulders. But I felt it was time to change. I wanted the freedom to do various things with my hair. I want my hair the same length again, but without locs. All out and growing a new and different story. Long and full, carrying my new memories to come.
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short prose • on the green beach chair
The music started. Emanating from the office were tunes meant to soothe the inner beast. I walked to the doorway. His back to me. Moving slightly to the beat, tunes dancing around the room like fireflies on a warm night. He moves.
I walk in, notice the green beach chair. Again. It sinks to the curve of a body, any body. I sit, slide back, both legs up. I watch. He moves, gently nodding his head, slightly rocking, no intrusion to the air around his head, he rocks. I watch. His back to me, smooth and clean, freckles smiling at the sounds that invite them to move in time, they move. I watch.
He listens. I smile, wondering what he is thinking at that moment, his handsome form soaking in the electrifying beats that fill the room. Only hours before, his sensual body writhed in time with the beat of my heart, our skins melding, folding, unfolding, a symbiotic melody that churns to the tune of our moans. He moans. We meld. A symbiotic life form is created between us. Forgetting where he begins and I end. We moan.
The images clear as he turns to place a CD in the slot. It is only then that I realize he does not know I am there. He rocks. I smile. His body moves in time, he tilts his head, wondering, wondering what? What is he wondering about the tune he’s just selected. He tilts his head, twitches his mouth to the right, changes tunes, sits back, listens. He does not move.
Then, my captivation is shifted from him to a song that begins to slide into my soul, distracting me from the beautiful form that sits before me, quietly enjoying his space. A space he doesn’t realize I also inhabit.… Continue reading
life in perspective
We each have our own views on life. Those views can be as different as our DNA and fingerprint. Today, do not think about only what you’ve been told to think about, or what you’ve been made to believe is the truth of your existence. Think like your DNA. Think like your fingerprint. Think different. Think about what was lost and what was gained. Think on all those who have entered and exited your life and have transformed who you are. Consider those whom you have never met, yet, their affect on your life is as profound and lasting as if they were living in the room next to you. Those affects can be both positive and/or negative, there is no real way for you to know whose past influence is affecting the trajectory of your life at this moment. Honor and mourn all who have gone from this place and now live in a distant past spanning possibly thousands of years before you. You are because they were. Meditate. Connect. Remember.
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birds in motion
They undulated as one body. Their movements gave no clue to the fact that each was an individual bird, each with its own instinct and spirit mind. Yet, their connection in flight told another story, an additional tale. They were one. They were a single heartbeat, flying across the sky like a dancer in motion. Yes, they danced. They danced in easy movements that needed no music. Their rhythm was flawless and their inner song kept them in time to the wind. They flew with and against the waterless tide. Floating gently over waves of air. Yes, they were one.
I watched in amazement. There was nothing to disturb their seemingly psychic connection. There couldn’t have been less than a hundred of them. Still, their bodies danced. They moved. They floated and dipped, dived and rose. I wanted to fly with them. Become one with them. They were my brothers and sisters of the air. They understood the meaning of togetherness.
As they flew, I remembered our past. We once acted as a single body, moving together through time and space, feeling the heartbeat of each other. Now, we move as individuals. We are lost in our singularity. Many of us feel the disconnect and want once again to rejoin. But we have forgotten how. Remembrance is not needed; like a web we are still connected. We live the illusion of disconnect, of singularity. Embrace the truth of who you are. Fly again together as one.
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