A Meditation to Assist in Clearing the Cords between Africa and the African Diaspora

I honor the sacred waters which bind all of humanity to our Earth mother’s womb.

It is the eternal life force that awakens us into a state of unified consciousness, and within her warm embrace, there is no separation in spirit.

All channels and cords of light connecting Africa to the African Diaspora are at once healed within her vast body.

This light illuminates all beings and extends throughout the entire universal realm.

The ancestors have heard the call and have sounded the drum of awakening.

Let the vibration of this resounding beat awaken the spirits of the East and of the West.

May the land and the waters exhale their pain and breathe in this great healing into itself.

Thank you, ancestors, for protecting us, border to border and heart to heart.

All that has been hidden has now been exposed within the gentle warmth of the light.

All communications between the souls of Africa and the souls of the African Diaspora are now based on love, healing, and trust.

Clear intentions are revealed, and all that is not of love and light are purged from the body of all lands, all people, and all life forms affected by this sacred union of souls.

We are so grateful to the divine spirit for lifting this prayer into the heavens and throughout the expansive dream of the cosmos.

Let this great blessing rain down like golden firelight upon the descendants, who walk with the beautiful souls of their ancestors inside of them.

Thank you, ancestors, for revealing and igniting the path of the children towards self-love and compassion.

Give them the courage to honor their hearts in the face of adversity and oppression.

Allow them to feel safe to tell their stories and to express their vulnerabilities in whatever state they may come, without judgment or fear.

Let them show us the way back to our innocence so we can remember how to dream a new and more promising reality.

You are the wisdom keepers, you are the breath of the sacred flame which started so long ago, and now we walk boldly and proudly in the expanding truth of that light.

May we always walk side by side next to you, honoring the struggle of your journey and the courage within your footsteps.

Two Hands (A Poem)

With these two hands,

I reach out to you.

I offer myself and all that is left,

but alas, I have only ten fingers on two hands.

But with these two hands, I can light a fire to cleanse this festering wound between us.

I can stir the flame of that gentle fire to ignite the voice of the broken,

or use it some cool, watchful evening,

to warm some food for those who are wandering and hungry for nourishment.

With these two hands,

I hold your tearful prayers to my broken heart,

and although the beating is faint, it is strong and enduring.

I make peace with you as I make peace with myself.

I fight your demons as I fight my own.

I honor you as I honor myself.

I purge your pain from my own soul.

With these ten fingers,

I can clothe your shivering and naked body,

washed upon the waves of an angry sea.

I can sit with you,

and listen quietly to your story,

as I try to recreate the stolen roots

of your growing family tree.

Homecoming ( A Short Story )

He only had ten fingers on two hands. They were cracked and weathered by the unforgiving winds of the vast ocean body. He desperately reached out to the crying souls before him, but he knew that he could not save them all. He watched their fading bodies become swallowed whole by the belly of the parting mist, but the sounds of their broken voices would always remain to haunt him. The wise ones used to say that the ghost of the man could be seen wandering amongst the lonely shoreline late in the evenings. He would only appear in the presence of a full moon. It was believed that he was a West African slave trader that had lost his way in between the world of the living and the realm of spirit.

The children would smile and say that he lived in a secret world that only he could see. As they perched behind nearby rocks and trees, they could hear the mysterious man whispering to himself, but they were never able to hear the words which were spoken. Only the elders and the small children could see him. As close as he appeared, he felt as far away as the bleeding stars that stained the fabric of the cool night sky. There was no trace of his presence left behind, and he was always seen as a walking flame moving along the bitter sand of the seacoast. The strength of his flame was enhanced by the pain of his memories.  It would slowly change color from a brilliant, vibrant blue to a soft violet hue. His form was made manifest when the tide was high, and it would become illuminated by the enchanting aura of the moonlight. He sought a closure within his broken heart that he could never find. Sometimes, he would become so angry from the pain that he would set fire to the water, only to see it quickly dissipate before him. Every night he would scream and cry out over the tumultuous waves of the sea, but his deep and powerful voice was only heard as a whisper to the distracted souls of the living.

One night, a mysterious young woman found the man crying by the shore. She smiled at him as if he were a baby in her arms and softly called out his name. Startled, the man turned around to find the woman standing behind him. The light that she reflected was so incredibly bright that he was unable to see her. Bewildered by her presence, he quickly wiped away his tears and asked her who she was.

Gently, she replied, “I am you. I am your heart who has come to face you.”

The man became upset and cried, “I do not want to see my heart! I want to go over the ocean and find the children that were lost. I want to go to my village and speak the truth to the ones who will listen.  It is their hearts that I want to face so that I may ask for forgiveness and understanding.”

The mysterious woman placed her hand upon the man's hunched shoulder, “The heart within each one of them is your own. I see you crying out over the ocean’s waves, searching for some form of validation and forgiveness from these souls. Only you can give this to yourself. The ones you seek will not come to find you here. There is no place in this realm that you will find the solace that you seek. You can only find this by facing your own heart and the truth within your soul.”

The man bowed his head in anguish as he tried to hold back his tears of disappointment. He glared at the woman and bitterly replied, “I will not face myself. I cannot face my heart.” The man looked out over the ocean and around the land as if waiting for a response that would free him from his torment, “I know that I can save them. I am so close. I must try.” With those last words, the brilliant light before him slowly faded away until the familiar darkness of the night could embrace him once more.

For many lonely nights after the encounter with the mysterious woman, he continued his quest to search for the lost souls. With each defeat, his soul became wearier. It went on like this for some time until one strange night, the stars refused to be seen, and the wind of the sea had become so strong and defiant that it pushed all its force against him, making it increasingly difficult to approach the shoreline. As he violently fell to the ground, he forcefully grabbed at the soft wet sand before him, only to feel it carelessly escaped through his feeble fingers, leaving him with no grounding force to hold the weight of his fragile body. As much as he tried to continue, he knew that he could no longer go on.

In great pain, he mustered what was left of his strength and whispered to himself, “Be still my heart. Let it go.”

With tears in his eyes, he kneeled before the crashing ocean waves. He began to raise his trembling hands in surrender and was overcome by a deep-penetrating light that arose from within his chest, reaching out like a bolt of lightning into the heavens. He, at once, entered a state of silence and stillness within himself that he had never known. It was something that he could only imagine to be a state of pure bliss. In an instant, he had dreamt himself into an entirely new reality. It was a sacred place, where the ocean was suddenly calm and peaceful. The heavy mist had cleared before him, and he could feel the warm sunlight of the approaching dawn shining upon his cold, wet face. The crying voices of the souls that lived within the water had transformed into the comforting sound of the natural environment. Animals, birds, and insects of all kinds created the stirring melody. These sounds vibrated in such a beautiful way that everything appeared to be singing all around him.  He could see the worn-down slave-trading castle near a cascade of trees behind him. It was always a towering mountain next to his village. The pain within those walls seemed impenetrable before. Now, it was surrounded by the violet firelight of healing and transmutation. The entirety of the structure crumbled away like a sandcastle into the hallowed ground, to be cleansed and renewed within the loving hands of the sacred light. Further out into the distance, he heard a thunderous crash within the water. As he watched closely, he could see that it was an approaching slave ship that had been completely overcome by the waves and released into the healing firelight of spirit.

He turned his head to see his descendants walking all around him, but they could not see him. Some of them walked right through him, and he could feel the essence of their souls.  He wondered if they could feel him as well. He desperately wanted to go to them and to speak his truth, but he knew that it would not save them. This was something they had to learn for themselves, just as he had. Soon, there was nothing left but the quiet stillness of the water and the enchantment of the sacred loving light.  A small empty wooden boat drifted quietly towards him, and he knew that he must get into it. It was time for him to move forward. He did not know where he was going, but he trusted his heart to lead him where he needed to be.