Initiation is a starting point with intention. An opening to new knowledge. To begin any process of decolonization, a popular word today in the dialogue around equity, one must begin with identification of the colonizer within oneself.
This process is an iterative process, as encounters with life events raise new levels of consciousness, unpacking layers of subjectivity – programmed by friends, family, religion, language, culture, traditions, society.
I am currently on a journey toward a spiritual initiation that will open up new mysteries to me about the Divine feminine energy of Oshun, a manifestation of earth/water energy in the Yoruba tradition of Ifá. Each day on this journey brings new lessons. Today’s began with a sense of restlessness – possibly the space movement of the recent lunar eclipse and planetary retrogrades – creating a desire to journey onto “Native” land. Native land being a magical place in my imagination.
A few weeks ago, a Tongva Clan Mother opened a workshop on racial equity. While her words were gracious as she told the stories of her people and how she and other Elders are sustaining survival through retaining language, customs, participation and presence, her words haunted me. In all of my work on social justice and action, I recognized my own failure of not seeing my hometown of Los Angeles as sacred, Native Land.
I have recognized the seduction by the Queen of Angeles as she captivated the imagination of the Spaniards and others who have settled on these lands in search of freedom of expression and its shadow in the thin line between financial opportunity and exploitation.
I have even celebrated and honored Queen Calafia, a Black Warrior Amazon Queen that came in a vision to another Spaniard of Moorish influence and for whom that state of California is named after.
Yet when it comes to the First Nations – the Tongva and the Chumash – I segregate their presence in a glass box of time/space separation and objectification. This is even as the constant vision of Cahuilla Clan Mothers weeping in the reeds along a dried riverbed walks with me and the sound of their crying never ceases. And even as the Tsalagi blood of my great-grandfather runs through me, confirmed by my 10% Native American blood by my Ancestor.com DNA.
I never had access to my direct Native heritage outside of family stories and given prejudice toward Blacks within Native communities and shaming of appropriation by Blacks – associated with complex ideas of racial denialsim – claiming linkages to Indigenous identifies has been risky and taboo. Thus my own cultural biases have objectified the beings of First Nations, romanticizing them in my imagination, yet segregating them in my psyche and creating a cognitive dissonance between what I feel and believe and how I act.
The way I see and how I walk in World has been distorted. No wonder why I tippy-toe verse walking flatfooted with confidence – walking unsure whose maternal belly am I intruding on, whose blood fills the underground waterstreams that nourish the food I eat?
This revelation into the biases of self both appalled me and blessed me. At the same time manifested new meaning to a recent Dafa – Ifá divination reading – that said Aje, Mother Earth is supporting my spiritual journey and I must foreibale – touch my head to the earth – to thank her each and everyday.
In my work as a practitioner/researcher in the area of Black Homelessness Studies, I have held space in my writings for deeper emergence into the understanding of harm created by man-made borders and boundaries on the skin of the Earth. Concretized rivers, barbed wire fences, highways that cut off the migratory flow of neighbor conversations, plastic fauna choking our oceans and the respiratory systems of the fish and mammals who survive off of marine eco-systems, riverbank homes for those experiencing homelessness – marginalized from society – reflect a cultural ignorance of man’s predatory nature.
That predator is within me – unless I use new learning to guide and transform a new vision of how I see the world and a new sense of touch to reimagine how I walk with each step intentionally honoring the sacredness of the space supporting my footsteps.
To this end, I walked with intention this morning to reframe my neighborhood state park into a sacred space – a place of Native land. I realized that I do not have to travel to Joshua Tree, Cuba, Honduras, or Palm Springs (although I dearly love each of these places), in fact I do not have to travel outside of me. Like a spider – Alatakun – sacredness is within me.
Today, I began my journey into Kenneth Hahn State Park with the intention to let Ajalaiye – the Winds of Earth – transform my neural pathways to improve my vision of self – allow me to see through sensuality- not my subjectivity. Walking with beginner’s mind – taking each step full of awareness and feeling.
The biggest lesson that the Walk-about- taught me today, is beyond every place being sacred space – like a womb, nature records our actions. She is forgiving and in a constant place of change and rebirth. Earth is the lifeforce that sustains us, and will continue to survive even if humans destroy the balanced ecosystem that sustains human life. There is a patiki- praise-song/story of when Oshun – the only feminine energy and the Goddess of creation, rebirth, beauty, fertility – was shunned by the male ironmule – the patriarchy- she left the Earth and went back to heaven. In her absence, the earth perished as crops died, there was no rain, people became famished and began to die en mass, the temperature became unbearably hot. The male leaders rushed to heaven to have an audience with Oludumare – the Supreme Being – to partition his advice. Oludumare responded simply- where is Oshun? At this the men realized their mistake in disrespecting the Divine Feminine and rushed back to earth to call on Oshun’s return and ask for forgiveness.
Humans live in an eco-system of balanced Divine Male and Feminine energies. When one is too great, human life will perish. We must re-learn how to respect the Mother. we must redevelop our City of Angels as Native Land and reconcile history and present through asking permission to be here.
Below is my a photo-journal of the journey.
Alisa's thoughts on Beloved Communities 