and the rain fell down like a blessing from Olorun

My mind is thinking back to that dance production about Oshun I saw last month. The story was a bit of a different spin on the story of Oshun and Ogun. In the play, Ogun and his warriors were wreaking havoc on the earth, spreading destruction and terror in their midst. In one scene, the drummers started playing a slow mournful beat and the singer sang a song of praise to Olofi, the Supreme Creator. Normally most orisha music sounds joyous but there was something different about the way he was singing it. It was so slight but it sounded more like a cry for help although sounding like praise still. Two women entered on the stage. One was an old woman in a white gown with long white hair. She fluttered in and looked like she was suffering. Her body contorted in anguish. A younger girl in a red dress came out and clung to her. They looked like a mother and daughter clinging to each other in sorrow, distraught by the suffering caused by tragedy and war. They leave the stage and Obatala enters declaring that Ogun's raw brutality must be kept in check and there will be peace. Much later the girl becomes one of Oshun's handmaidens.
Oshun and her handmaidens enchant Ogun and his warriors and the drums of war become the sensuous Ijesha rythmns of Oshun. Love conquers War and peace and civilization are allowed to continue. The old woman who in my mind represents the human soul burdened by suffering now glides on stage and her daughter leads her to Obatala. She kneels before the King of the White Cloth and prepares to enter the next world. In Candomble, Obatala is sometimes associated with death, the final ending that brings peace and a ceasing of suffering.
This play brings to mind another story of when Oshun in the form of a peacock flies up to the throne of Olofi to beg the Creator to send rain. The sun blackens her feathers and she becomes a vulture. Once again she saves the world from extinction.

Sometimes I feel like that scene in the play where humanity cries out to the Creator for an explanation. But sometimes the explanation is there is NO explanation. Our human minds were not meant always to grasp these mysteries. Sometimes the only answer the orishas can give me is We love you. Sometimes I pray and the rain falls down like a blessing from Olofi.
I'm not always sure what path to take. I know what I have to do in this life. I may have to do it alone or perhaps may have someone at my side to love me. In either case, the only strength I can rely on is my own. I thank all of you here, whom I have mentioned and those not mentioned for giving me such love, good advice, and friendship.
In the words of a fellow priest, Omi Leti "The chains are broken and my waters will engulf the world." I say let the rain fall, whether its tears of joy or tears are sorrow, both are equally sacred. Whether a smooth flowing sweet water of love or an angry tidal wave in the end all that is negative, all that is not of the divine is washed away. Ashe.

Le roi monte sur son trône

So the dating thing didn't work out but it's cool. We're still friends. as a
result I think I want to become a monk and say 12 rosaries a day.
However doing so would deprive society of my magnificent presence so
NO! :) I will still say rosaries however but no monastery. Ah but the love of my heart is furthest from me.
In the meantime, it's time for the mission to continue. I need to get moving on my spiritual work again. I'm officiating the wedding of one of my co-workers next month in Central Park. This will be the third wedding I've officiated.
I'm currently reading the book Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and enjoying it immensely. It is supposed to be made into a film starring Julia Roberts. I like the author's writing style and her approach to her quest for happiness.
My love for the orishas and especially my own crown, Baba Logunede has deepened recently. All I can say is Orisha is Pure Love!

La Gente Unidos

Sunday I attended my first protest march with my friend Shanali in Jackson Heights, Queens. It was protesting police brutality against the local street vendors. Apparently they have been harassing the vendors with excessive tickets and in one case attacking one woman.
We took to the streets and marched down Roosevelt Avenue (a major road in Queens) all the way to the police precinct. Our slogans were "Si se puede, Arriba, abajo, la policia tan carajo! What do we want! Justice! When do we want it, Now!"
The energy was amazing and the people on the street who were watching us voiced their approval. The police had denied our group the use of bullhorns but you know when you get a group of people together we can yell in one loud voice and get our point across. They even threatened the organizer of the march with arrest merely because he was a few inches outside the police barricade. I think they were more angered at the words he was saying. The truth hurts sometimes. I was proud to see young people from the Filipino community as well come out to support the Latino community. Many have this image of Filipinos that we are go along with the status quo and are conservative. They forget the Filipino rebels who fought against American imperialism at the end of the 19th century.

Here is Shanali's commentary on the march.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xghmau14S94

The mission is what matters

Greetings dear readers,
I have been absent from here as of late. I still don't have a new computer so I must be content to use the ones at the public library. Thank God my phone has internet access or I would be totally cut off.
Spiritually things have been moving in a good direction. From tambors of the orisha I've attended to Pagan celebrations of Beltane, the Universe indicates things are moving smoothly with a few bumps here and there of course.
I am currently dating someone and I hope it works out :)
I have discovered a new patron saint for myself. She peeked out at me at a Haitian botanica. I've known about her all my life but never really connected with her until now. It is Saint Theresa of the Little Flower, a French Carmelite nun who lived at the end of the 19th century. She is the patron saint of people with AIDS, aviators, florists, and missions. She is kind of like a female St. Jude because she deals with cases of emergency and the impossible. After readings a few of her writings, I liked her style because she tended to be more spiritual and mystical rather than dogmatic. Also homegirl wanted to be a female priest and that was pretty forward thinking of her time. Her writings seem so spiritually affirmative. Well maybe she can help me on my "mission" since she is the patroness of missions. My goal is to go back to school and get a degree in Theology. As an initiate of an African Traditional Religion, I realize that very few of our priests and priestesses have clergy status in this country. I think this has to change. After all do we not perform the same functions as our counterparts of other religions?
Mother's Day and my birthday I saw a play about Oshun with my mom at the National Black Theater in Harlem. It was beautiful and it was a great experience to see the stories of our tradition visually enacted.
I spent the day today listening to various Candomble songs and writing the Yoruba words out phonetically. I think I am starting to learn them better.

Well I'm off to Brooklyn today to see Capicu Open Mic event.
Te Amo mis amgigos y amigos. Bendicion!

Persistance and Planning

I was doing a reading for a client last week and this idea dawned on me during the reading. I told her to make a list of 5 goals that she could accomplish in 30 days. I also did a list for myself. The net day at work, I had two of my co-workers do it. I think I am going to focus on short term goals rather than long term ones. With so many dissapointments in life, it feels good when you actually accomplish a task in a short amount of time, that you set out to do.
My five goals were in 30 days to
1) Update my resume
2) Eat healthier
3) Practice the art of forgiveness/letting go
4) Write a short story
5) Excercise

Ayiti-Forgetting and Remembering

Ayiti-Forgetting and Remembrance
by D.G

Everyone now speaks of the earthquake which reduced Port-au-Prince to rubble,
yet no one remembers the earth shaking revolution in which the slaves freed themselves
and established the first black republic.
Media images of poverty and voodoo, are conjured in our minds, a poisonous magic
that distorts the truth,
of Haiti's rich culture and religious traditions.
The gods of Africa are demonized and despised ,
by those who serve the god of the slave masters.
We rage at the idiocy of one evangelist's words,
yet we still live in ignorance about this island,
the Europeans called Hispaniola, Saint Domingue, Santo Domingo,
once the richest jewel in the Caribbean now known for it's poor.
“discovered” by Columbus, but it is we who need to rediscover this island, where
gods and saints walk among men,
where the raga music of carnival plays,
the sensual rhythms of kompa,
the hard working mothers who keep a spotless house,
a land of vibrant color and beauty
whose true name is Ayiti,
land of mountains,
named by the first inhabitants
put to death by conquistadors' sword and cross,
enriched by the people of Africa who were enslaved
but had the strength to win their freedom.
We forget the exploitation of the isles resources, the occupation of U.S. Marines,
we choose to remember the negative,
and banish Haiti from history's narrative.
Rise Ayiti, from the ashes of history, from the ruins of defeat,
let us remember your glorious past and praise your future.
La Union Fait La Force!

Reading list for Orisa Devotees

Since I composed a list of fiction books relating to orisha and lwa, I decided to do a non-fiction one. I'm going to do a separate list for Vodoun on another post. These are the ones that I own.

Black Gods: Orisa Studies in the New World by John Mason (comprehensive study of each orisha)

Altar of My Soul by Marta Morena Vega (a personal journey and guide to Lukumi and other Afro-Diaspora religions)

Finding My Soul on the Path of Orisa by Melody Tobbe Coreal (this is good for beginners especially)

Sacred Leaves of Candomble, African Magic, Medicine and Religion in Brazil by Robert Voeks (information on herbs used in Candomble and general info on Candomble)

Working the Spirit, Ceremonies of the African Diaspora by Joseph M. Murphy- a look at various traditons of the Diaspora

Santeria by Joseph M. Murphy -(the authors personal journey in the religion of Lukumi/Santeria)

Black Atlantic Religion: Tradition, Transnationalism, and Matriarchy in the Afro-Brazilian Candomble by James Lorand Matory (an academic study of Candomble)

Africa's Ogun: Old World and New (African Systems of Thought) by Sandra T. Barnes (a collection of essays about Ogun in various traditions)

Osun Across the Waters : A Yoruba Goddess in by Joseph M. Murphy and Mei-Mei Sanford (a collection of essays about Oshun in various traditions)

Manipulating the Sacred: Yoruba Art, Ritual, and Resistance in Brazilian Candomble (African American Life Series) by Mikelle Smith Omari-Tunkara ( a look at the ritual asthetics of Candomble)

Macumba by Bramley Serge (about Brazilian Umbanda)

Osun Seegesi: The Elegant Deity of Wealth, Power, and Femininity by Diedre Badejo (focuses on the worship of Oshun in Yorubaland)

Pataki of Orisa and other Essays for Lucumi Santeria by OTA OMI OLO OSHUN (written by a good friend Baba Ota Omi about the pataki of Santeria)

A Refuge in Thunder: Candomble and Alternative Spaces of Blackness (Blacks in the Diaspora) by Rachel E. Harding ( I don't own this book but it was recommended by a friend. When I read it, I will write a synosis)

Yemaya y Ochun (Spanish Edition) by Lydia Cabrera (if you can read Spanish this book is a classic)

Flash of the Spirit: African & Afro-American Art & Philosophy by Robert Farris Thompson (an academic overview of the African religions of the Diaspora)

I have a lot more in my collection and will update accordingly

Home Sweet Home

I'm picturing myself in a house. I've never had a home of my own. I've rented an apartment and lived with family. Lately I've been thinking and daydreaming about it. I'm nowhere close to achieving this but that doesn't stop me. I may complain, whine, and shake my fist to the heavens but in the end I rarely admit defeat. I bought a statue of Our Lady of Altagracia last week. In Dominican Vodou or 21 Divisions, She is Ezili Alila. A lwa that walks with Ezili Freda. She is strict, conservative and dislikes loud noise. She is the patron of the home and family love. She is patroness of the Dominican Republic. Maybe I bought her because I have that yearning for a home. Maybe I'm ready to settle down and have a serious relationship. I put her on the same altar as Ezili Freda, who I recently but up a shrine to again. I think I need a little luxury in my life, maybe not of the physical kind. That sense of ease, and leisure that comes from security. Ah that word security, it goes back to what Sra. Altagracia reprsents. I know one day I'll come home, relax, have my orishas in their own temple in the basement, my own office/study upstairs and a handsome husband to sleep next to at night. It could be years from now but I pray to Nuestra Senora de Altagracia/Ezili Alila that my daydreams become reality in the light of day. Ashe.

Litany of the Black Madonna

I wrote this poem a few years ago, but in light of recent events, it suddenly has become relevant again.

Litany of the Black Madonna

by DG

From the forest of Bois Caiman,

on Haiti's tropical isle,

to the plains of Poland,

Our Lady fights battles against the oppressors.

A symbol of Hope,

Comfort to the dying,

Champion of the poor,

She shelters those who toil,

under Her mantle.

She is...

the secret buried under the Earth,

burrowing Her way into the heart of the Church.

the slave brought over in the Middle Passage,

forced to bear the pain of the lash.

the courageous woman of color,

who defiantly refuses to sit at the back of the bus.

the scars on Her cheeks are like that of a girl, whose

clitoris is mutilated by the slashing pain of patriarchy.

the grieving mother, whose son is being tortured,

in a Latin American prison.

the single mother who works two jobs to support her kids,

loving and gentle but ready to give them a whoopin',

if they don't toe the mark.

the sister killed for daring to put aside her veil or be educated.

the revolutionary toppling a tyrannical regime,

the hammer that struck down the Berlin Wall.

the forgotten bride, pushed into the margins of history and scripture.

She is the voice of all women,

She reaches out,

and takes us to the Other Side.

Ayiti

Been busy the past few days donating and spreading the word on how to help Haiti. I went to the Haitian botanica in my town and the mambo and hougan (Vodoun priestess and priests) families are ok. However there are many whose families are not ok. It breaks my heart to see what is happening to this beautiful island. I grew up and still live in a community with a large Haitian-American population. I am going to keep up with the relief efforts and put updates on my blog. La Union Fait La Force! Ayibobo!

My New Financial Story for 2010

(The book, Money and the Law of Attraction, by Jerry and Esther Hicks, recommends that one retells their own financial story in a new, more positive way. Here is mine.)

Currently, I am working at a job that pays more money. As a result of being a more fun occupation, this job makes me feel good. At this time, I am doing several Tarot card readings per week for clients who are paying money for my services. In addition to that I am getting paid to do several spiritual workings. Also I am studying to be a professor. I can honestly say at this moment, I am a healthy, prosperous, and happy individual. I'm looking forward to using the money that I have saved to take a vacation to Venice, Italy.

Dawn of a New Era

New Year, New decade, New era. I really feel that we are ushering into a new point in history where humanity is going to be more open minded. However there is always the reaction and resistance to this. There are those who feel threatened by this. I saw an example of this on New Year's Day. I was on the bus and was listening to a Jamaican Rastafarian man and a Muslim woman converse. Despite their different faiths, they had similar viewpoints on God and spirituality in general. I felt drawn to their conversation and kept listening. However two Evangelical Christian girls got very upset with this conversation. First of all it was rude on their part to interrupt two people who were not talking to them. They asked the woman why she was talking to the Rastafarian. Then they called him "a lying spirit, which they rebuked and binded in the name of Jesus." Now sitting across from them, I told the two women they were negative. For all their supposed piety and holiness, they looked positively demonic when they were rebuking the gentleman. Their faces were filled with such hate and contempt. This is not the message of Christ just a bunch of hypocrites at work. Now if some elder African American grandmother from the South was doing the rebuking, I'd say wow look out! However two twenty something holier than thou chicas, I think not! It takes more than that to scare me! A Haitian man joined in and started telling the Muslim woman she had no Savior and Jesus this and Jesus that. I struck up a conversation with the woman and the Rastafarian and it seems the three of us had similar viewpoints.
A friend of mine once said in the physical world opposite energies attract, in the world of spirit like energies attract. This is what was at work this day. The Rastafarian blessed both of us and told us to continue the good work that we were doing. I felt validated by Spirit that I am on the right path and will continue to be in service to the Divine.

River of Rebirth

I'm listening to the music of Trinidad Orisa priestess Ella Andall, her powerful voice, the chorus, the beating of the drums sing praises of Oshun and Shango, making me move along to the music. She sings "Aladadoye!" (He lives) in praise of Shango, calling on him to destroy the obstacles that plague our everyday lives.
Yesterday I went to the Hudson River, to put yellow roses in the river to my mother Oxum. Tomorrow is her feast day in Candomble and I went to the river despite those freezing temperatures. The river was moving onward to the ocean of Yemanja, fast and strong as ever. I let go of something with sadness in my heart and today I find myself dancing to the beats of Trinidad's drums. The river is still flowing, the sun still rose this morning. The music still continues.
This is what it means to practice the religion of the orishas. To survive, to thrive even despite the boulders that lie in your path, despite the mockery of the tongues of others, despite the seemingly soul crushing burdens of every day life. to dance with joy, even though you are weighed with sorrow within. The pulse of the drums still plays, the voices are still raised to Ile Orun in praise. Ashe. (The above painting was done by artist Maria Guilla Alemanno)

Night Terrors at 3am

This is poem is part of the series, it should be the second in order which is Cinnamon Sunset, Night Terrors at 3am, Silence Before Sunrise and the 4th one is not yet written.

Night Terrors at 3am
by DG

This Voice whispers that you will die alone, unloved,
never to find success,
its tones drip with venom,
twisting and wrapping you into a fearful victim.

Maybe it originated with the taunt of a classmate,
the disapproving lecture of a parent,
the criticism of a boss, demeaning your performance,
the insult meant in jest by a friend,
the increasing bills that pile up, as finances drain dry.

Confidence withers away as wicked self deception becomes
ingrained to a belief.
The alarm clock reads 3 am and you dread going to work the next day,
where you toil for the advancement of others, in servitude to them, while your own soul
slowly dies and diminishes.

The dying embers of the candle flame flicker,
faith dwindling to a spark,
doubt creeps in as you think that he is apathetic to your love, your silent pleas to the gods unanswered
as you fear the very angels themselves turn away deaf to your prayerful supplications.

The very thought of the sunrise hurts you,
because you once basked in its glow of love,
now the memory of it lingers and festers.
In the vigil of insomnia you wait,
as terror and confusion cripple, slithering and snaking their way into your heart.
The dawn seems so far off and cannot be faced for fear that its light burns to bright.

Thanksgiving

I tend to think of the Pagan holidays of Lammas and Mabon as my Thanksgiving or harvest festivals. Still growing up with this American tradition, I always remember the great food and time with family.
For the indigenous people of this land, Thanksgiving is a National Day of Mourning. They welcomed the European settlers, gave them food, only to be betrayed and have their lands taken away as the centuries of imperial conquest continued, first with the Europeans and then continued by the United States.

On this day, I honor the First People of the Americas, the people who came here 14,000 years ago. I honor the spirits of the African slaves, who were forcibly dragged across the ocean to replace the Native Americans as labor. It is a vicious cycle that we still are seeing the effects today, as both Natives and people of color are still experiencing the suffering that was inflicted upon them by the rape and pillage of the Americas.

I give thanks to the Creator, the Divine Mother and Father of All Life for all of His/Her blessings, for the challenges, for the victories, for the moments both bitter and sweet.

"The Great Spirit is in all things, he is in the air we breathe. The Great Spirit is our
Father, but the Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us, that which we put into the ground
she returns to us..."
-Big Thunder (Bedagi) Wabanaki Algonquin

La Magia

Whilst walking around my town, I noticed the beauty of the autumn leaves. They sounded crisp under my feet. Beautiful reds, oranges and yellows. I thought to myself that even though I am initiated as a priest of the orisha, by my ancestral blood I have ties to witchcraft and paganism. It speaks to a different part of my soul. There are similarities of course, there are similarities between many religions and spiritual traditions, yet they are different. I thought of the New Moon tomorrow and the magic and hope that it always brings. Sometimes I think in this chaotic and often brutal world we live in, the world could use a bit more magic, a bit more wonder. It's there, maybe we just get too caught up to see it. That feeling of hope despite when things seem to be closing in all around you, the belief that you can shape and breath life into your very dreams. It's the green grass and the glorious Full Moon in the sky. It's the snow in wintertime and the balmy breezes of summer. It's the kiss on a first date under a starlit sky.
I was thinking of my life a year ago and how different it is today. I still struggle with many difficulties but I feel so much more stronger and better equipped to deal with these challenges. No matter what I feel held in the arms of God, and Her arms are always wrapped around me.
Blessed Be.

All Souls Day

Happy All Souls Day/Feliz Dia de los Muertos! Without the Ancestors, we would not exist and their wisdom is needed in this day and age more than ever. I made a small altar for the Ancestors in my kitchen. Modupe Egun!

Cielo Azul

One giant step closer, three baby steps back. I've been focused lately on just moving ahead. Each day seems like a minor victory in the major war that I'm waging. The sun is shining today and I see the blue vault of Heaven. Even when it was cloudy this morning, there was a luminescence about that made the clouds glow. It reminded me of Obatala and the odu of Ofun.
I gave thanks to the friends and family who have stood by and gave counsel and kind words.
I bought one of my friends at work some roses of various hues last week. I saw that she was down about things and I decided to remedy that with some flowers. I figured I have to do my part to shine a bit of light in this world and every bit helps.
My mind is constantly focused on a certain someone who I don't really see that often because of time constraints. I try to not let it upset me. My poetic mind conjures images of banishment and loneliness but I realize it's just fear talking. Whatever outcomes will occur in Life, I know that it will turn out ok. I just have to arm myself with the shield of Faith, the sword of Justice, the arrows of Truth, and leap into that chariot of Victory. One thing I forgot and the most important element and intangible element, Love.

Obstruction or Construction
by DG

Where once were pebbles on your road, minor annoyances,
now lie boulders,
that seem nigh impassable, a heavy load,
slumped in defeat, burdened shoulders.

Desire deferred,
dreams transferred
equation of persuasion,
relinquish what you hold most dear,
surrendering to the drama of fear.

In difficulties lie the seeds of hope
strengthening the will to cope, with the challenges of life,
seeking peace, an end to strife.

Not all is lost, no need to fight or wrangle.
Find a different route, approach from a different angle.
A new perspective made clear.
Many will laugh at you, jeer or silently sneer.

Other wills look up to you and follow in your wake,
marveling and praising the choices you make.
Keep walking forward, head held high.
Never looking down.
Victory is at hand-seize the crown!

Cinnamon Sunset

Cinnamon Sunset
by DG

The last rays of sunlight fade in the west, leaving an orange glimmering of day.
The New Moon rises in the sign of the Virgin, lauding a new era of possibility.
Anointed with oils of patchouli and cinnamon,
the fire of spice enters my veins,
boiling my blood to a simmering temperature,
igniting the fuses of desire,
furnace of passions fire,
which cannot be sated or satiated
until it meets its equal in flame.
Fire that meets measure for measure in brilliance,
heat that exudes will warm the house of my spirit.
The moon is the mirror which reflects the glory of the sun,
your brilliance is reflected in the wells of my eyes,
and the magnificence of my soul is spoken by your words of praise.
Two kings without a kingdom or a crown,
left to wander in the desert on this starry night.
I light the watch fires which will guard us till dawn.