On January 31 there will be a Super Blood Blue Moon. For the kids at home, a Blue Moon is when two full moons occur within the same month; this is very rare. A blood moon is when the moon is eclipsed and is reflected red by filtered sunlight. The “super” part is the moon being at its closest point in its orbit to the Earth. I aim to take advantage of this wealth of energy and set a clear intention.
This is a calling in. Things are shifting; we can all feel it. On the whole, our country is coming into slow alignment with an understanding of where the cards truly lie. White people are learning what we as people of color (POC) living in this silo of whiteness already knew: this country is built on a crumbling foundation. Old systems are breaking, creating space for us to clear out the wreckage, set our own intentions and move forward with our collective healing, liberation being our single focus.
For the past two months I have been immersed in pools melanin and count myself as supremely blessed. I owe this to being cast in Theater Ensemble of Color’s play, “Rachel” (which boasts an all-black cast). Also, experiencing a life-altering Shambhala Cultivating Dignity meditation retreat. Historic, as this was the first POC Shambhala residential retreat in the country. (Shambhala is a Tibetan Buddhist tradition which centers around the truth that all beings are basically good.) The experience was transformative and I am still processing.
Finally, I recently made a firm, though at times complicated (as is the world of whiteness)—but always rewarding—decision to focus on, center, and manifest with people of color. This commitment is the best thing that I have ever done (within living memory) for my soul. Committing to people of color has led me to the feeling of belonging and oneness that I have always looked for but never found in white spaces. Much may be said for being with people who reflect the beauty that POC are so often told doesn’t exist.
People of color revel in a richness which comes in large part from our struggle. Comprised of different (yet all-too-similar) experiences with a depth and sorrow which echoes far in our ancestral bones, driving us forward. When I am in POC spaces, my heart can barely contain the love being felt. When we are together, people are so vibrant and full in all of our brilliant iterations. Our comfort allows us to wear our stories on our skin. Within POC spaces comes the freedom to converse about anything and everything without fear intrusion or a demand of explanation.
The feeling of simply being—I mean really just being—and doing the most mundane things is incredible. Eating toast! Eating toast is one of my favorite things to do with people of color. It’s fascinating to see the ways we all eat. Unconcerned with who might think what. Some eat slowly, others quickly, a few go back for seconds. I’m talking about ease though. The fluid ease with which the toast is consumed. You may laugh but if you do, that might be because you don’t hear what I am saying.
There is a video going around related to the movie “Black Panther” coming out in February. Because it is going to be lit and I am the MOST hype, there are these Black humans standing looking at a poster. These dudes are freaking out because the poster is epic (obviously). They’re all yelling about the poster like, “Is this how white people feel all the time?! ALL THE TIME YO?!?! Shoot, I’d wanna feel like that too. I wouldn’t wanna give that up too!”
I have to tell you, that shit hit home. Watching that 30-second video struck me all of the different ways we as POC get left behind.
Waking up in this America is difficult. I sit in my room and think about all of the injustices that never stop coming. Al Jazeera pops onto my phone and tells me the latest headlines: more bombings, more government corruption. I hop online and hear of another Black body, another Black girl done wrong, another law being unwritten and it just is all so heavy.
I want Black people to heal. I want Black people to sit in rooms with Black people and non-Black POC (NBPOC) and just be. I want Black people to feel at ease. I want Black people to look at themselves in the mirror and know without the shadow of a doubt that they are beautiful. I want Black people to walk down the street and have no one cross the street for fear of them and their hoodie and their fuzzy purple mittens. I want Black people to make eye contact with each other. I want Black people to take yoga classes together, attend poetry readings together, ceramics classes, mindfulness courses, tea-making classes together.
I want Black people to breathe. To be at home in their skin. I want Black people to experience a life free of anxiety. Free of fear. Free of shame. I want Black people to have a reset, to get back to how our bodies are meant to feel. In our natural state of ease, openness and expansiveness. I want us to learn how our bodies would feel all the time if we were able to exist in the world without racism and without oppression.
I want Black to experience liberation. I want NBPOC to experience liberation. If only for an hour, so we may all know liberation is possible. So we may all know what to strive for and dream of. I want us to understand that dreams are tangible. Stars shine within us, not beyond us. We must only reach inside ourselves and dream.
If this piece or this blog resonates with you, please consider a one-time “tip” or become a monthly “patron”…this space runs on love and reader support. Want more BGIM? Consider booking me to speak with your group or organization.
Comments will close on this post in 60-90 days; earlier if there are spam attacks or other nonsense.