In the Mirror

Something amazing happened a few months ago 

 As an exercise to help me, I began to write using colorful dry erase markers on my bathroom mirror,positive affirmation statements that I needed to begin to believe. I wrote “It is worth it”, “with Me all things are Possible” and “I am a work in Transition” or “ For Such a time as this” and many more.

I looked in the mirror every morning and then would read them as I saw this in me. After a while I felt like I had received these messages into my spirit, so I took some window cleaner and cleaned the mirror. A few months passed and then one morning I took a shower but one thing was different. I forgot to turn on the fan when I entered the shower. So as I came out and went to look in the mirror something awesome was there. 

 Because the steam had stayed on the mirror I could see the words engraved in the mirror as clear as if it had been written with a pen. The words were still there! As I re -read all of the statements that I had been declaring I began to cry and become so grateful for this message. Even though I wasn’t doing the exercise any more the words had been there... invisible.

 I felt God was telling me not to forget these statements and even though I couldn’t see it that it was still written and still true. I watched as the steam whisped away and the mirror in front of me became a clear reflection.

What are you believing today? What statements have you been believing that are invisible but still there. It may be time to do inventory and write some new statement. 

Two Shiny Pennys from Heaven

Today I was touched by two amazing Pennys from Heaven.

The first Penny added value to my life by impacting me to look outside myself and be the change I wanted to see in this world. She was a role model in the way that she continually allows her life to be shared, relevant and impactful . She holds space for you and is full of information and wisdom. Always looking for solutions to the "unanswered" problems. Being a connector for those that have, to help those that have need. When you know better you do better was a mantra that she gifted others with.
She was in the end of the beginning and I had the privileged to tell her that I loved her. When someone makes a difference in the way you live your life its important that you recognize it. She was leaving the place but I knew her presence would still be felt on the planet. To me she was like lightning and thunder, a supernatural natural phenomena that is caused by change and causes change to occur.

My second Penny was a beautiful sensitive soul that I had the honor to bring value to. We bonded our hearts together during a difficult season as she gave birth to her eighth child, a son. As she loved him in adoption, she trusted me and put my name on his birth certificate so he would one day know the story of how he came to be. Now that she was having her ninth and was incarcerated once more, I had the chance to go down memory lane to remind her how strong she was and how HOPE is a choice. My smile was wide and my heart was glowing as we held hands and cried and got caught up. Tomorrow she will be leaving and arriving all at once and my prayer for her was that angels would guide her as she tried to find her way. 

Two shiny Pennys from Heaven have been loaned to me to remind me of the value in things that I sometimes deem worthless. These two Pennys were the sum and value of my fortune today.

Medical Ban

I have been banned and rejected by my family doctor. He said that because I have chosen to not fulfill my prescriptions and his advice, that he would no longer be able to be my “family doctor”. He thought I should find myself a naturopathic doctor. At first I was flabbergasted and even offended at his remarks and then after meditating on it I changed my perspective. I had finally joined many great people before me that had been banned by the healthcare system as a rebel!!!!

Below is a picture of all of the prescriptions and medications that have been prescribed to either myself or my family. I made the decision after much research to go a more natural method such as food, essential oils or even just time and patience to let the body heal naturally.

I kept these to remind myself and others that I share my stories with that medical advice is just that, advice. Each person needs to do their research and remember that God has created our bodies with an amazing immune system that can be aided to allow healing to take place naturally. My children were never vaccinated and have amazing immune systems to fight off disease and illnesses.

I still go to the doctor for confirmation of diagnosis and for more serious issues that need to be addressed. This is using the advancement of technology to my advantage. 
But I have also rejected surgeries, recommended procedures, abortions and many other courses of action that I was not comfortable with.

I am in great health and love being in charge of my well being and the decisions that accompany that right and privilege. 
I encourage each person to listen to your gut and follow the advice that resonates with your heart. Use wisdom, knowledge, get a second and even third opinion and remember you have to live or die by your choices.

Lynching

Lynching 

Looking up with tears I remember

But who can ever forget?

The many bodies on those trees

that were hung up by their necks

Lynch mob gathering

With evil intentions, hearts grown cold

Noose in hand swung over a tree

Will the truth ever be told?

From standing upon a selling box

Their final journey ended here

Hanging in visual terror

For all to see and fear

Dear White People I am asking you

How can we reconstruct

And build trust from silent oppression

When your legacy of lynching has gone untouched

These victims cry out from the grave

Like branches on a willow tree

A memorial we must build unto them

 And to all affected by slavery

Breaking the cycle for future generations

Yet around and around we go

Modern day lynching still occurring

You will never change what you don’t know

When will you exonerate the innocent victims?

Strung up for violating the racial hierarchy

Multiple sites of horror on land

What a vicious racial history

Hangman’s knot wrapped around ragged rope

Leaving photo stain of racial violence

Exhibits of artistic brutality

This strange act made no sense

 If we published the complex list of names

What would the inventory of time say?

Are we dreaming about equal justice?

Is it even possible today?

Meet me at the hanging tree

Where the fruit suspended there is important to me

There a dead man is calling thee

To right the wrongs of history

Happy Mothers Day

As I reflect on my relationship over the many years with my own mother, I have many mixed emotions.

To me she was the beautiful stranger at 4 years old that picked me up at the airport, when I came from Jamaica to Canada. In my confusion I tried to understand and bond to the word “mother” when relating to her.

She was the woman that was often unpredictable, who believed in corporate punishment, that came out more as unleashed rage. Many bandages, visits to emergency, wounded parts in my soul and meaningless “I am sorry”, would store in my memory bank until I withdrew them one day and let them all go.

She was the 22-year-old pregnant girl that failed twice to abort me and decided to have her 4^th baby, because God must want this one to live.

She was the woman that first taught me about God in hard times by watching her read through the Psalms and believing like a true Jamaican “don’t worry about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright”. Forcing me to go to church to pray for her would one day build the foundation for a true relationship with the God that loved me.

She taught me about my culture through soul food and Bob Marley music on Saturday mornings while we cleaned the house. It was here that I learned how to dance my troubles away as I “shot the sheriff” and “listened to the three little bird sitting on my doorstep”.

She spoke to me that black is beautiful as she helped to establish the first black history after school program with the only black teacher in our school in Toronto in 1977 so I could have black pride in who I was.

She was also one of my best teachers as she modeled to me what not to do as she told me what not to do. The double warning stayed with me and unfortunately caused me to embrace the “super mom syndrome” as I vowed never to be a mom like her.

She was the pair of arms that wrapped around me when I was hurting, even if she was the cause of the pain. She whispered in my ears words of love that kept me calm during my multiple illness and sicknesses. She always wiped away my tears and told me to be strong.

She was the little girl that had been left alone in Jamaica by her mother, who moved to England and had no one to show her how to love a daughter. But she would try her best, it just came from a place of trauma and brokenness.

She was the abuser that abused, the hurt that hurt and the broken mesh of a person crumpled on the floor trying to make it all better.

She was the voice that was louder than any other sound I had ever heard that raised the decibels in every message that I tried to convey. Screaming was a way of life in our household.

She was my champion in every arena when someone was trying to push me into a corner and she taught me how to be a fighter, for myself and for others. Her pushing me has given me the resilience that has helped me navigate my way in this world as a black woman.

She was my road map to finding true love as I watched her with her husband move to her boyfriend after boyfriend, after boyfriend… looking for a man to just love her.

She was the person I hated one day and loved the next. My emotions so twisted as my mind kept telling me “you have to love her she is your mother”

She was the mother that left me home at nights with a grown man that she knew wasn’t my father, to go and party with her friends. She would miss read my messages to her that I was being sexually abused and wanted a mother to rescue me.

She was the secret keeper of the lies she told to me to give me a better existence. She would also be the revealer of the truth that I would seek to regain my identity.

She was the dividing wall between me and my true biological father, hindering me from knowing the source of my heritage.

She was the mother of my half sister, 2 dead brothers before their time and a brother I never knew growing up.

But then came God.

Today I recognize her as the tool used to sharpen and strengthen me to learn to love.

The vessel that carried me for 9 months and gave me the greatest gift of life.

The woman that resisted all stereotypes and boundaries to allow me the freedom to reach for anything I desired.

The imperfect being that had a heart of gold trying to give me something from nothing.

My commitment to my husband of 32 years as I broke the pattern and linked a different chain.

The reason I loved my own children so fiercely and unconditionally

The force that gave me a mothering spirit that allowed me to have so many spiritual daughters and sons.

The sound in my message that says I have a voice and I have something worth saying.

The well of grief that understands loss and learns to live again.

The dreamer that taught me to believe in myself and to think just maybe… anything is possible.

She is my mother and I have such love for her and gratefulness that God knew who I needed to be my mother to make me the woman I am today.

I am proud to say I am my mothers daughter

Happy Mothers Day Mom.