“They called her witch because she knew how to heal herself.”
— Here We Are, Reflections of A God Gone Mad (2nd edition)

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@twelfthursday
“They called her witch because she knew how to heal herself.”
— Here We Are, Reflections of A God Gone Mad (2nd edition)
“I have had to experience so much stupidity, so many vices, so much error, so much nausea, disillusionment and sorrow, just in order to become a child again and begin anew. I had to experience despair, I had to sink to the greatest mental depths, to thoughts of suicide, in order to experience grace.”
— Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha (via 19040825)
why do you fear me, i am your friend
still
Last month I payed homage to one of my favorite artists of all time; Tupac Shakur. Along with an amazing talk about Tupac’s importance with Rob ——- of MTV, I recreated some of his most iconic pictures. Though people had both negative and positive things to say about my photoshoot, the pictures weren’t taken to garner opinions. They were my way of paying tribute and giving thanks to an artist that continues to inspire me and so many others. (Of course, if you read the article or listened to the interview you already knew that ;) )
We live in a day and age where young people don’t have much patience. No patience to read anything longer than 140 characters. No patience to research. No patience to study the history of the art they want so desperately to be apart of. Not only is there a lack of patience, but a lack of respect. There’s not a lot of respect being shown to the true artists that came before us. Everyone is so hell bent on being THE best that no one is taking the time to honor the individuals who have influenced us.
Well, I’m getting older and I realize that I am just a compilation of all the great creators who came before me. Not only is it my duty, it is my pleasure to show my appreciation.
This month, for his 77th birthday (July 4), I want to pay homage to Bill Withers. Bill Wither’s music has been blessing my ears since I was a baby. I didn’t know it then and not until recently did I understand, that this man is responsible for some of the most beautiful, relatable, heart felt songs ever written. Bill is not only a genius songwriter, but an amazing singer and musician. The more research I do on Bill, the more I love him. Bill didn’t start creating music until he was in his 30’s, proving that there is no limit to what you are capable of. One of the things that inspires me the most about Bill is his attention to lyrics and storytelling. It wasn’t about his image, being flashy or putting on a “show”; it was about the song. No fluff, just pure feeling. It was about connecting. It was about the music. And it is still about the music.
Thank you Bill Withers for being so authentic. You are a true inspiration. Happy Birthday
Lyin King
“A mysterious, time traveling medicine woman has a prophetic vision of an early civilization in trouble.
The men have neglected the women and deprived them of love. By orders of their chief, the men of the tribe have taken away the women’s hearts and voices.
The women are powerless. The children are suffering.
The medicine woman travels for many days to reach the primitive village.
Upon her arrival, the medicine woman performs a miracle. She instantly restores the grace of the women of the tribe and gives them their voices back.
The men of this early tribe are not pleased.
With the men of the tribe’s attention, the medicine woman and the women of the tribe begin a ceremony in which they tell the story of how they are taking their voices back.
The chief is infuriated.
The medicine woman leaves the now capable women to conduct a private ceremony for the chief.
The chief is intrigued and frightened.
What he thinks will be a sexual experience turns out to be something very different.
After the ritual is performed, the medicine woman passes on her apocalyptic prophecy of how the world will end due to the lack of love throughout humanity.
The chief experiences ego death. He sees that it starts with him.”
- Jhené Aiko Efuru Chilombo
She said, “Look Mommy, it looks so beautiful.”
I spent amazing quality time with her these past few days,
while countless lives across the planet perished.
I’ve been telling myself this:
“Be thankful for every second as it comes and passes… for every second brings us closer to our ultimate fate. Death is certain, but essential. We suffer because we fear.”
Social media continues to shed light on how out of harmony humanity truly is, but it has also proved that the energy of Compassion, Love, Understanding, Prayer, Hope, and Empathy is not completely lost.
I say to myself:
“Society teaches us to practice… not for goodness’ sake, but to be better than. Society teaches us to practice chasing an unattainable perfection. Teaches us to practice feeding our desires. Teaches us to practice neglecting our families (the true embodiment of love) to obtain a position on an imaginary throne with lots of useless, shiny things.
Living in your own bubble is easy. Giving into what Ego wants is fun, but every now and then you need to look around. Not down or to the Heavens, but around and into eyes of every living thing and see that every single one of them is suffering. Whether it be mentally of physically. On the surface or in the roots.
Suffering is everywhere out there and inside of you.
Deny the practice society is teaching.
You will get great at what you practice.
Hug your daughter often.
Practice presence. Practice love. Practice compassion. Practice understanding. Practice acceptance. Practice empathy. Practice patience. Practice mindfulness.
Practice until you live every day in a state of grace. Living for and being led by
love and not fear.”
I tell myself these things everyday, all day… just to get through the day…
as I encounter disrespect and hate from all kinds. Be it because I am short and small….. because I look young… because I am a woman… because of my racial, (but undeniably ethnic) ambiguity, my semi popularity, my insecurities and lack of confidence, my sadness…
I digress.
I share what I say to myself, with other people… not to preach, but because it is in my nature to share.
I don’t have my shit together at all and I will never pretend to.
Sorry for the ramble.
I hope whoever reads this finds a thought to hold on to, that will bring them the peace they need to get through the night.
(Photo by Namiko Love)
When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That’s the message he is sending.
Thich Nhat Hanh (via thecalminside)
Our true home is the present moment. If we really live in the moment, our worries and hardships will disappear and we will discover life with all its miracles. Real life can only be found and touched in the here and now.
Thich Nhat Hanh (via thecalminside)
Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter.“
African proverb (via mysharona1987)
When I was born, my Grampy gave me the nickname “Penny”. Penny is me in my purest, most authentic form. On July 19th 2012, I lost my brother Miyagi to an inoperable brain tumor. He was 26. My brother and I were very close. We were only 2 years apart. I never thought of him as a separate person, but an extension of myself. He was my reflection. In his presence I was confident and always so sure… I was Penny. Since that day I have been incomplete, losing all direction and sense of self. Since that day I have been lost trying to find him… trying to find my way back to my self… back to Penny. I turn to writing as my form of therapy, but it’s never quite enough. I released 2 projects since then, but I wasn’t quite myself. I try to find my brother’s love in other men, but they never can compare. I try to get closer to my brother by doing different drugs, hoping that if I get high enough I can reach him, but they only take me further away. I distract myself with work, which buys me things I wish I could share with him. I distract myself with work, which causes stress I wish he were here to help me with. The presence of my daughter, my siblings, my parents… only make his absence more apparent. And so, I find myself taking trips, trying to escape any person, place or thing that is too familiar. Physical trips by car, by plane… Mental trips with controlled substances… Trips in solitude in hopes that the quiet will bring me and my brother back together. Through out these travels I’ve been keeping a record of my dreams, feelings and experiences in notebooks. I turned these notebooks into a MAP. a Movie (TRIP short film), an Album (TRIP) and a Poetry book (2fish) This map has been helping me navigate through my suffering, uncovering the righteous path that has been carved out before and for me… Helping me identify my pain and my mistakes so that I can move forward and reach my full potential and find the light at the end of the tunnel… My personal “hero’s journey". and although I am not there yet… I know I’m getting closer. This map was made by me, for me… but I feel obligated to share because I know that I am not alone in my suffering. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that every single person on this planet is suffering. Not a single soul in this world is immune to the pain of losing someone they love. The reality of this life is, at some point we will all lose someone we love. In sharing this MAP, I hope to inspire others to be more present in the lives of the people they love. I hope this MAP encourages honesty, empathy and compassion. In sharing this MAP, I hope to inspire others to share their own mistakes, imperfections and fears… because I believe in doing so we can understand each other better and realize we are more alike than different. In sharing this MAP, I hope to inspire others to share their grief and pain because I believe suffering can be alleviated when we understand we are not going through any of it alone. - Jhené Aiko Efuru “Penny” Chilombo
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Words Are Birds
I pressed 'publish' button today.
Then it said 'saving'
And I made a tea and drove to work.
Like normal days.
Except today I listened to James Blake singing melancholy things about not finding the colour in anything.
It was smokey- it smelt like a fire. Somewhere in the metaphorical distance.
That I would never hear or know about except for that anxiety-inducing smell.
And some birds crossed the sky- one hope to another. Going someplace, being free.
And it occurred to me that they were my words.
free.
To be out in the world now.
Words Are Birds, a poem I taught in class once.
I felt lighter.
No fireworks but a little bit more light. My soul felt a little more expansive as though it had been given air.
And I felt a flicker of hope.
That I had done, not something great, but something aligned.
Something I wanted to do.
That meant something great, to me.
💙
by Naomi Nicholson
It's been a long journey following Jhene's work since I first came across her in 2011. I feel she has shaped so much of my own twenties, and experiencing her exploration of so many facets of herself through her art, with strength, grace and courage inspires me daily. I was lucky enough to see her live in Sydney this year, and put together some of my favourite pieces of her many releases, to also mark her 30th. So much gratitude and love from me to her. Xx
@jheneaiko
@jheneaiko