MY HEART IS IN PIECES AND MY AUNTIE IS FINALLY AT PEACE.
1) Ascension. The beautiful, glorious, strong, pray warrior below is my beloved Auntie. She passed on Saturday, 7/31/2021. Was she ill? Nah. She went to the Ancestors to get her broken heart healed. To pass forward dreams deferred. To release stories trapped. To straighten a back bowed from holding up whole universes on her petite 4’11’’ frame.
Her heart is what cleared ways out of no ways, day after day, for 81 years. On the 9th day of Ascension, the Ancestors will heal it, her heart will be whole and she will dance with our line. It will be on the new moon, 8/8. Now you know Imma turn UP on this new moon in ways I am still downloading.
REST IN POWER AND PEACE AUNTIE. I LOVE YOU.
Insert deep thought here: Love is forever and that’s on God.
See the thing with being the strong one, is that no one ever asks “How can I listen to you?” “What keeps you up at night” “Where does it hurt?” “When are you ready to be vulnerable?” “Who do you need me to be for you, now, so you can be who you need to be, now?”
I am blessed to know, I asked her those things, and more. And in that, even as tears roll through my soul, smiles pulse in my blood. Fam, I ask you: Who’s asking you these questions, m’baby? I pray you have that kind of joy warrior in your life.
If not, consider this newsletter Spirit talking through me to ya. Mkkkkk? Mkkkkk.
Joy warrior’s hearts hold so much, not to keep pain, but to transmute it into joy. The balance is Ma’at like.
2) Duality. The mirrors. They started coming to me about 90 days ago. Check my gram. There’s always a sign. And there’s always a message. Hoodoo gonna hoodoo. Auntie was mirroring back to me that the Ancestral portal opened, and that the balance in my heart would have to be light in order for me to move in grace, without her bi-weekly counsel.
BIM//Mirror wuk dis away.
I’m 2/12, she’s 2/21.
I’m the eldest, she’s the eldest.
We’re both divorcees.
We’re both strong-willed, strong-hearted, and strong-favored.
She IS FOREVER my guide on how to make my way in grace as a willful Black woman in a world that prefers a woeful Black woman.
3) Hoodoo. BIM//check it. Saturday, 7/31. Flight delayed. Three hours later, I board. If you know the maths, you know what three do when you are aligned- ROAD OPEN. Off I go to my new home, far away from Brooklyn, the place I’d centered over 20 years of my life. NY, it’s not you, it’s me. Thanks for all the good times. I’ll see you around.
Right, so I’m on the plane, carrying the HUGE picture of my Dad I had at my altar in BK. Why? Cause he’s my Dad and he wants to see me safely home. DUH. What kind of father would let his daughter move in alone? Not mine. That’s not the Arnold way. That’s not the Louisiana way. We show up.
NOTE: My Dad is Auntie’s brother and he ascended to the Ancestral dominion three years ago. Three. ROAD OPEN.
Bim, back to the trip. On the plane, I am filled with JOY, chu hurd? Me and the big ass picture of my Dad are CHILLIN. People look at him - then carry on. Like they should. Boom, I land, head to the baggage claim. First text pops up: “Auntie passed.” FRESH HELL AND PAIN.
I rock my damn self in the airport, body bobbing waves of feels. I am stitching myself together and tearing myself apart. Duality. My eldest Facetimes me. “Mama, you’re built for this.” Clear as a bell, I hear God speak through my son. Spirit will always find a messenger, trust hoodoo m’baby.
“I am built for this.” It echoed in my soul that day. “I am built for this.” It still echoes in my soul today. “I am built for this.”
Auntie, thanks for loving me so much. I love you. I miss you. I’ll be with you, in all the old familiar places…and new ones. Cause me and you are built for this. Talk to you tonight. I have a few questions only you can answer.