brief channel: high water

What we will to be so will be so. We are the master teachers. We are the Divine Creators and Its own interference. All of it is us. We are the One and none. Wishing for Love to conquer it already. Damn, that’d mean that loss may conquer us too. Maybe it already has, at times I feel that. But I am reborn everyday, we will be reborn in every way. I think I could grow gills if I wanted to. Like the time I was a toddler, made a run straight for the Ocean, they were calling me then too. Like we’ve all been breathing underwater all along. Like we are the undrowned spirits.. the Loch Ness. Breaking out of the underbelly of this beast. That undulating power behind what we see. But what we see is not all Truth. The spirits are alive still. There’s an Atlantis made beautiful by our ancestors. A community there as vast as the solar systems. It is that too. Thank you Pacha Mama, Mami Wata. Thank you Israel. We will be back to you. Thank you Osun. Shango, Oko I thank You. We are here. I am listening. Come through–get right. Pray to God only. Chant. Be the love here. Be love, hear? You must. It cannot go on and you must prepare those you love most. Prayers of protection must be real. You are here. -interference-

Thank you God. Thank you God. Thank you for your everlasting Guidance. It is here. You are… I am here. Not done. Here. And ONE Oneness Itself Unite.

[written/channeled December 9th, 2020]

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In solitudinous bliss

I’m feeling not like myself lately. Or possibly, feeling more and more like my Self. So much so that I feel estranged from this earthly edifice of thoughts and blood and bone and feeling that I am. I sit here, watching a white candle burn, a bulbous burn. I hear falling wax come to crystallize with a thud onto the caramel-colored coffee table. I smell frankincense, no myrrh. Fizzing flames and listening to Coltrane. I blow the flame before it catches onto the candlestick dress, that life comes to quiet. I do this within too. I’d like to think that I’m getting better at it. Who knows. Today’s the first day of the last month in the best and the worst year of my life thus far. I want to feel optimistic for 2021, I really do. And I am, most times… Today, I fasted on tea, chlorophyll water and golden mylk. Today I sang La’illaha’ilAllah. There is no god but God. I am cleansing, preparing. Becoming more of my light body. Getting clear, letting go, lots of release crying too.

I’m thinking always, but lately a lot about existence. Our macro, collective existence as a human race, how we have helped, how we have loved, how we have plagued and how we hurt…still. In the micro, I wonder if I make my existence that much more difficult by craving awareness, desiring knowledge, and feeling everything. I can’t help it. Since I was a child, I’ve always been keenly and quietly curious. Ever-presenting an outward joy and calm, while my interior peruses the shambles, communes with all of that energy, and questions the whys and the woes of this world, of this people.

It feels easier more now than ever to embody my Truth. That I am not solely of the Earth. But I am here, for reasons that I am still learning, and I must stay until God sees it to be so. There is both wonder and weight in this refuge of Truth. I feel the weight today. In thinking of my existence, I come back to this feeling that cascades in the skirt of darkness shadowing my truth: loneliness. How I’ve felt and continue to feel so damn lonely. I know I am never alone, but it’s there. I curl up at the thought of the vastness of that void, the feeling of unbelonging. Feeling like somthing’s missing, like I’ve been ripped away from a world that I knew and thrown into this ferociously foreign one. I struggled to get here, I tied the umbilical around the ankle in hopes of staying, but God said “You must go. You chose this.” That abyss is deep and undulating through many generations and lifetimes, this I am sure of. I am here now, in this vessel, on this earth. I have been through what I’ve been through and will endure what I must. It is all here. God is whole here. And perhaps in that same vast void is where Heaven also lies. I go there more often now, I feel it out, and notice that it is not all bad. For in my solitude is where I’ve found God time and time again. I recreate the cocooned womb and in it I search for the jewels that have been bestowed upon me. In that space cradling both Love and evil, Joy and pain, Heaven and hell. The power of choice is mine. I choose to blow out the flame or to let it burn. I choose to stay for a spell of darkness before I come back to Light with news of what I’ve found. Both are okay, necessary. God is always in flow. I let it burn today, until it got to be too much. So I blew, and I knew, that all is always well. That I am whole in any void that I may feel. I find more of God there. I find my Self there. I listen, and I’m re-minded that I am never alone.

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close to the sun

Icarus flew there. Moses Sumney said it. His wings are made of plastic and he is too. Plastic that can’t hold that close for that long to that fire. Fire that can’t hold you close even if that’s it’s sole desire. I can’t always do all that I want before asking God, “What is it that I need?” The fly is glorious, but the fall. The end of the fall from grace is no place that I want to be.

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words to live by

“Desiderata” by Max Ehrmann. Beautiful, reminding, encouraging words to live by. I used to read them daily, words that truly kept me living, getting by. Now, I choose daily to live by love. And right by joy, by presence, by curiosity, by creativity, by spontaneity. They’re neighbors of mine and often guests into my home. I am blessed whenever they do visit. At times they don’t, and my home feels empty, my space bombarded with uncomfortable guests that I must make tea for still. Even when they’re gone, love and other lovely visitors still linger here. Or I can peek out of the streaked windows and see their doors wide open throughout the cul-de-sac. I am always welcome to come home to love, joy, and presence. I am indefinitely invited into the arms of curiosity, creativity, and spontaneity. Therefore I am so blessed to live right here in this house that doesn’t always feel quite like home. We all are. All of the love in the universe is waiting on us. Waiting on us to make space, to open up, to come back home. “And baby, this time, stay as long as you like,” they say. Beautiful, beautiful words to live by.

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what you can’t live without

I can’t live without God. I can’t live without my breath. I can’t live without my body. I can’t live without love. Thank God for the breath, the continuum of my life that won’t remain. Thank God for the body, the vehicle and vessel that holds me. Thank God for love, that is everything. Thank God for everything. God is everything. God is love.

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no single truth

Playing catch up. Feeling like I’m in the grey area. Where there is no black and white, no light without the night. No single truth. It’s almost always both and. So much pain in the pleasure, jitters in the joy, loneliness in the love. Always never both and. It’s confusion at times. But I’ve had the sobering realization that living as though “my” truth or “one” truth is the only thing is simply a delusion. But Truth is my identity. Yes, and God is the truth. God is everything good, everything bad or no thing at all. There is nothing singular about it, everything’s plural. Interconnected energy, expounding and playing off of each other. I can’t describe how this is all making me feel. Spiraling. It’s both easier and more difficult to see life through this lovely, lamenting lens. Both and.

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a better place

I know that there’s a better place in here somewhere. Yes, in here. Not on another planet, elsewhere, or far from here at all. I know it’s right here. Inside of me, inside of us all. It’ll take work and a whole lot of love, but we can wake it up. Stir up the gods in us all. Tap into the Source, and quit living just on the surface. There is so much more in here for us, if we seek it. If we see it. I know that we can create a better place. I know that we can create Heaven right where we are.

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under a tall tree

Here we gather, beneath oak branches that had no choice. The branch that begrudgingly held the rope that sorrowfully held the body. The body that lovingly held the ancestral spirit that desperately deserved so. much. more. It hurts. Yet, here we gather. Beneath the very same bark that served as a playground, a canvas for climbing. Where our grandmother’s grandmothers danced in reverence and played in innocence. Where they had to pick a switch after spilling the season’s harvest. Where they ran in joyous circles until they fell in a dizzy onto sweet-smelling grass. Where they lay, dreaming of us, and staring at the sun peeking through those same branches. Here we gather, at a place where Black children sang to Solomon while spilling the juice of plump peaches. Here we gather, in horror, at a place where Black joy in a Black boy was stolen. Strange fruit. How strange is it? That it’s here we must gather. On soil soiled with Black blood, sweat, and tears. Oh, amerika. But we can breathe in crisp air perfumed with the remnants of Black laughter, chant, and song. Oh, America. This strange and sacred place. Stained with the sickness of white hatred. Sweetened by the love of Black gods. At times, I want to run far from here, other times I wish to hold it near. Just to learn what my grandmother’s grandmother dreamt like, how she hugged and hummed her into that soft sleep. How deep the liquid lines in her palms dug. How strongly those whispers of God tugged. Strange, strange land. Here we gather under a tall and tired tree. A tree whose memories know so. much. more. Whose roots are deeply connected to God’s core. We are so much greater than this place. Yet here we gather, on this election day, under a tall tree in all its strange horror and beauty. Oh, America.

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burning at both ends

The flame hasn’t yet reached the core,

It seems we’re all reaching for something more,

Than what we’ve got inside of us.

Disillusioned.

They scream “the world is burning,”

I see it differently.

Our mother is aching, wailing this time,

Burning in some places,

Vigorously bathing herself in others.

Just waiting on us, wanting for us,

To treat her better,

To treat ourselves better,

To treat each other better,

To be better.

We must be better than this.

If the world is burning,

It’s only now at the fringes.

The center is clear.

We must take better care,

Forcefully extinguish this flame, 

And build anew.

Our mother is in anguish,

Our father is waiting,

But they still Love.

So we must Love.

If the world is on fire,

It’s burning at both ends.

In the middle is the message.

To be better,

To take care,

To love,

Love,

Love.

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how do I explain?

How can I explain? How do I explain? This feeling always, always, always in my heart and solidifying in my body. It’s not emptiness, no. Neither fullness. But this meek and fragile and fulfilling feeling or knowing of myself as only a vessel. Of only God’s crafting, I spun on the wheel dizzied, dazzled. I was shaped and formed by that majestic hand. I was breathed into by Spirit simmering within the cracks of my clay. I went through the fire, through kiln burn I desperately longed for. It turns out that the aroma of burning clay is sweet, intoxicating. Yet here I am, hardened, and wishing to be soft again. Green. Unknowing of the pain, undeserving, it’s all still burning. But see the thing is God knows exactly what we were to endure. Spirit tells us, tells me that it’s time. Time to pour into this vessel that is me. To be the vessel and only then will I see. Just how much God has to offer me. See, we must be hardened a bit, go through the fire in order to see that the burning inside is our Light. So how do I explain how good God is. I am thankful and moved to tears. It’s all right here. God speaks to me and it’s like now I can finally hear. Spirit’s saying now is the time. Time to share what I’ve seen and all I know. Spirit said I am both the tap and the well, so all is well. Spirit said I put you through hell so you could see where your strength is, who your Source is. Spirit said you are here to share what I give you, so empty yourself of everything else and let me fill it. Spirit said you are here to share, to give your gifts, to give my Love. Spirit said I shaped and molded you, sent you through the fire, and now you are here to shape and mold me, to lift the people higher. And now you are here. You hear? How else can I explain?

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