writing rituals

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[writingrituals]

I feel relaxed. I think this is the first time in a long time that my body has felt this way. It’s a little sad how I got here, but I think it’s important to share.

On the news there is constant updates on the new spikes in corona virus cases and there is multitudes of coverage of the continuing protests that are going on. When you travel to twitter, it’s the same. And Instagram is also fairly consistent with flows of information. It is important to be informed, its important to be engaged in these issues, it is important to keep the torch lit. You do not have to carry the burden of single-handedly changing the world. It is okay to step away. But, do NOT disappear.

This past week I found it extremely helpful to step away. Here are somethings that I did that allowed me to step away

      -I took a blanket and a pillow, went in the front yard and laid down. I brought a journal and Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye.

      -My mom and I took a mini roadtrip. We had lots of laughs in the car, sang along to music we loved, and we engaged in conversation about the virus and blm. This was a scenic trip, we didn’t get out of the car.

      -I took a bath. It’s as simple as that. I added some Himalayan Salt, Peppermint essential oil, and a bit of castor oil. I get a lot of migraines so the peppermint oil really helps with this.

I was also making sure to go to my regularly scheduled therapy appointments and taking my medicine on a consistent basis. Please take the time you need, but don’t disappear, because your support is still needed.

[writingrituals]

black music, part 1

10 songs by black artists that I love 

1. touch the floor by VanJess ft. Masego 

2. like you by Asiahn

3. water by Kehlani

4. feelings by Tinashe 

5. iLula by Thabsie 

6. got her own by Syd

7. when i come around by Dom Kennedy 

8. fkn around by Phony Ppl ft. Megan Thee Stallion

9. build by Justine Skye 

10. extra by Lucky Daye

[pigmentmagazine]

black literature, part 1 🌻

12 books by black authors to read this year:

1. their eyes were watching God by zora neale hurston

2. song of solomon by toni morrison

3. go tell it on the mountain by james baldwin

4. invisible man by ralph ellison

5. brown girl, brownstones by paule marshall

6. beloved by toni morrison

7. the souls of black folk by w.e.b. du bois

8. there is confusion by jessie redmon fauset

9. killing the black body by dorothy roberts

10. i know why the caged bird sings by maya angelou

11. moses, man of the mountain by zora neale hurston

12. native son by richard wright

note: some of these novels are very emotionally intense and mature in content. know your sensitivity level, and read at your will.

[sher-ee-deactivated20241106]

[gkpmnipples]

[then-be-a-warrior]

If you or someone you know is rioting:

DO NOT DESTROY A BLACK-OWNED BUSINESS

It defeats one of the MANY reasons we're rioting in the first place:

To help black people.

To help us thrive in a country that wants to kill us, beat us, frame us, and destroy us.

To stop injustice.

To tell the racists that we're done being peaceful.

If you're not rioting to HELP US, if you're rioting just for free stuff,

THEN GO BACK INSIDE.

[writingrituals]

White people. People hate us, people hate to be us. We cause so much injustice in the world and we have to be the ones to stop it. We aren’t saviors, we must fix the system that benefits us solely. 

Some view the protests as not helping, that they are being too violent. Is the KKK not violent? Is lynching not a violent act? What about what happened to George Floyd? These acts are a mere reciprocation of acts done onto the black community. 

I encourage you to stand up for what is right. Go out and protest, make sure that you have the right tools and resources so that you stay safe. Donate to the Black Lives Matter movement, George Floyd Memorial Fund, and organizations that are helping to bail out protesters. A post is no longer enough, is never has been. Sign petitions, get involved, call out your racist family members, because no lives matter until black lives matter. 

I will try to repost some resources so that you are able to stay safe during the protests and you can find more places to donate. 

[writingrituals]

In 2nd or 3rd grade I was in a play called ‘How Does Your Garden Grow?’ The students clamored for positions, as one does when they have nothing to fear. As we grow older and our gardens start to wilt and other parts flourish, we wonder how our gardens got to be this way. When we were children, we couldn’t wait for our gardens to grow so we took care of it, tended to it, watered it, weeded it. But somewhere along the way we lost it. Lost the excitement, vitality, and creativeness for the garden we once had. The contents of our garden didn’t change, the world around it didn’t change. Our perception changed. We learned what is acceptable and what’s not. We started to covet other peoples gardens while killing off parts of our own. Judging the vibrant flowers, healing herbs, vegetables, and fruits that grew in our own gardens and wanting our neighbors bounty.

Today I decided to start again. To revisit that play from elementary school. Because everyone has a garden and they all grow differently.

[writingrituals]

I open the door and feel the refreshing breeze tickle the hair on my skin. My lungs stride into their own breathing pattern with deep inhales filled with grassy notes and exhales lingering of tension. Grasping onto the smooth, yet bumpy yoga mat, my bare feet plunge themselves into the bare earth. My eyes gaze the entirety of the yard before I decide to unroll the magenta mat unto the sticking blades of grass underneath a tree. The tree blocks the rays of sun from directly touching my flesh but creates a beautiful mosaic print when my eyes travel towards the sky. I sit myself down, adjusting to the hardness beneath me and allow myself to ease into calmness. I close my eyes and notice all the sounds coming from around me; the cardinals chirping from the trees, cars driving by, dogs playfully barking at one another, and finally my heartbeat. I listen as it slows to a smooth rhythm pulsating every inch of my body. It feels as if I can hear my blood flowing in and out, keeping me alive. I gaze back towards the sun and then slowly rise off the mat. I bend over and move the mat into the sunlight. I lay down and for the first time in a long time, I feel reunited with nature. The suns beams ignite the light inside of me and encourage me to remain strong. They burn away any of the pain or nerves that no longer service me. They allow me to heal what’s broken.