Richmond, VA

Merry meet Friends,
Michelle here, bringing lots of light and love!
"I think we all have blocks between us and the best version of ourselves, whether it's shyness, insecurity, anxiety, whether it's a physical block, and the story of a person overcoming that block to their best self.  It's truly inspiring because I think all of us are engaged in that every day." -Tom Hooper


"Being aware of your fear is smart.  Overcoming it is the mark of a successful person." - Seth Godin


Do we know what the best version of ourselves is?  Do we have a clue as to what it might be?  Do we care about it at all?  Do we trust God/Goddess/All That Is, enough to allow that version to come forth?  Some of us know, some of us don't care and some of us, probably most, are afraid to find out.  We fear failure, we fear success, we fear not living up to our own expectations, let alone anyone else's.  And so, we hide behind a myriad of things to avoid seeing ourselves in the way that Spirit sees us. 


In my own life whenever I have been afraid to step out, Spirit has stepped in and events happened that caused me to act.  Almost eleven years ago I left my second husband.  I wanted to leave for years but wanted the children to have both parents while still in school.  At least, that's what I told myself and it was partly true.  The reality is that I was afraid because I relied on him for finances.  I was a housewife and stay at home mom.  When my youngest son left home for college, I'd planned to leave but decided I would see how life would be for us without the children at home.  It didn't change how I felt inside, however.  I still wanted to leave.


In a conversation with one of my best friends, (I'm lucky to have more than one) she spoke about her concern for her 96 year old mother living alone.  When we ended the conversation as I hung up the phone, I heard Spirit say, "Ask her about renting the upstairs in her mother's house."  I didn't want to do it, because we were friends and I didn't want any mixed feelings.  By this time, (2003) I was self employed with a sewing business and shortly afterwards I worked with AmeriCorps.  Being obedient to Spirit, I asked my friend and her sister. After checking with their mother, I was given a yes.  She charged me $150 a month.  We were company for each other.  She nurtured me during that difficult transition.


While living there, I ended the sewing business as a primary source of income.  I continued with AmeriCorps and through a contact with them I received another job.  I also started a part time job with Dillard's.  Shortly after starting with Dillard's, my car was stolen.  Luckily, Dillard's was on a bus line.  I had to take two buses to get home and there was a 30 minute wait between buses.  It would be close to 11pm when I walked in the door.  The walk to the house from the bus stop wasn't that far but far enough in the dark.  Eventually the car was found but it was damaged.  In August of that year (2004), I told Spirit that I wanted to move.  I was very specific about the area I wanted, the rent I wanted to pay and the type of place I wanted.


In that same month while on the bus I saw a woman with a hairstyle that I liked.  She gave me the name of the stylist and I made an appointment.  During one of the appointments I mentioned that I wanted to live downtown.  She said that she would keep her eyes and ears open.  In October, the stylist told me that she had seen a for rent sign in a house on her block.  I went by, took down the number and called.  It had the particulars of what I wanted in an apartment and the rent was affordable.  It was a 2 bedroom with a washer and dryer and eat in kitchen.  The closets were small and it had a shower instead of a tub but it seemed perfect for me.  I had no furniture except for a chair I reupholstered and a dresser.


My supervisor with AmeriCorps was moving to Maryland and sold me a love seat and an entertainment center.  My friend Suzanne gave me a bed and an outdoor table and chair set.  My friend Celeste gave me a futon for the second bedroom.  I made an ottoman for a coffee table and I made the window treatments.  Slowly but surely I began to buy accessories and the house became a home.  This was the first time that I lived alone without a child or husband.  I was scared but also excited!  I felt in charge of my life for the first time in a long time.  I stayed there two years.


In August (what is it with me and August) of the second year (2006), I made another request of Spirit for a place.  This time I wanted a walk in closet, a tub, and more space but I didn't know where I wanted to live.  I didn't know it at the time but Spirit was "increasing my territory" as the song says.  I was expanding my consciousness and my faith.  I gave a two month notice although I had no idea where I was headed.  My lease was up at the end of October and I had not found a place when October made an entrance.  In the first week of October, the daughter of a friend of mine told me that she had seen a for rent sign around the corner from her house in Church Hill.  I went there, but the only for rent sign was on a house.  I took down the number and made an appointment to see the house.  I liked it but it was too large and cost more than I wanted to spend.


It was now two weeks before my lease was up and I still had no idea where I was going. The only thing that I had was faith.  I forgot to mention that a month before my lease was up, I had been hired for another job paying more than the last full time job.  I didn't need Dillard's any more.  While living downtown my daughter gave me her car because she was moving to LA.  Anyway while having breakfast before going to work one morning, I heard Spirit say to go back and get the number for the house in Church Hill.  As I drove by I saw a for rent sign on an apartment house.  I took down the number and called when I got to work.  I asked to see it and fell in love.  It had everything that I wanted.  I moved in at the end of October.  The transmission blew on my daughter's car and I had to buy a car.  So a new dwelling and a new car was now in my life.


I had been there a year and a half on a month to month lease when I made another request.  This time I wanted a house; a 3 bedroom, dining room, eat in kitchen and family room house.  I didn't want to buy but wanted that option.  I didn't know that I wanted a house, it dropped in my spirit.  A lawyer that I met at the church I attended at the time came to see me to discuss my divorce.  I mentioned that I wanted a house.  She asked me if I wanted to buy or rent and did I have a preference as to where it would be.  I mentioned that I didn't want south Richmond and I wanted to rent.  She said she was asking because she had a house that she would be willing to rent with option but it was in Chesterfield.  I told her that I would see it.  It had what I wanted and she also let me keep the furniture still there.  She even let me pay the same rent that I had been paying.  Spirit at work!


Not long after moving in, I lost my job and car.  I couldn't continue to stay there and so I moved in with my oldest son and his girlfriend.  I moved there in February, 2009 and in May, my youngest son gave me his car to use.  In August (again), I sensed that it was time for me to go and I said to Spirit that I needed a place to stay with little or no rent because I didn't have an income.  I don't know why I didn't ask for a job.  In September of that year, my friend Melvina, asked me to apply for a resident manager position with her part time job, Daughters of Zelophehad.  I did and received the job.  In addition to living rent free, I received a stipend.  I had lost weight due to the Extreme Boot Camp program I attended in LA in 2008, because my oldest daughter felt it would benefit me.  It did.  I continued the program when I returned to VA and even incorporated jogging into my regime.  I felt great.


In August of 2010, I received an email from The New Seminary for Interfaith Studies in New York.  I looked into them when I was ordained in 2007 by the minister of the church I attended at the time.  I decided that I would attend the open house.  I applied for the two year program and was accepted.  In June of 2011, the resident manager position ended because the company took a new direction.  The seminary was undergoing changes as well.  I decided to apply for One Spirit Interfaith Seminary and was accepted and graduated in June, 2012.  With both seminaries I was able to fulfill some financial obligations with the help of people attending the seminary that God placed in my life.  I am forever grateful to them and to my long time friend Cher for her help on two occasions with other things.  "I get by with a little help from my friends."- The Beatles


In January of 2012, my best friend, whose mother I stayed with, made her transition.  I also started a new job as a residential youth counselor.  I unjustly lost that job in August, 2012.  In October I was in NY for a work study to fulfill my portion of a financial obligation with OSIS.  When I returned I was very anxious.  I felt that a life changing event was about to happen.  Of course breast cancer was discovered two months later.  In April, 2013 I lost the apartment and in November, 2013, I lost my possessions in storage.  On the surface, it appears that I am back to square 1 when I left my husband.  Everything that I accumulated when I declared my independence is gone.  I don't have a place of my own and I no longer have a car.  It's after losing my things that this journey started. 


In 2008, when I lived in the lawyer's house in Chesterfield county, almost every show on television had to do with homelessness.  I remember asking Spirit if I would be homeless at some point or if I were to work with the homeless?  Well it seems as if both have happened.  I'm not totally homeless, there is a roof over my head.  I just don't have a place of my own and I keep my things in boxes and suitcases.  But I'm not in the elements and I am grateful.  In a sense I am back to square 1 and it's not a bad place to be.  I can begin again.  I'm also free of all of my "stuff" and I had a lot of it!  For me, now, less is more.  I'm once again at a crossroads and not sure where I'm headed.  I only know that God/Goddess/All That Is is in control.


My friend Melvina asked me to apply for a position as a Mental Health Technician with Rubicon, a drug facility.  I did and as of last week they have been checking my references.  I need an income other than SS and I don't mind working.  Yet there is this reluctance to accept this position, if offered.  This has been my field of expertise for the last five years but I'm not sure if I'm up to that energy any more.  I am also wondering whether this is where Spirit wants me.  Having lost jobs either through termination or the jobs folding, I wonder if Spirit is telling me to "come up higher".  Is it time for me to do what 'thus saith the Lord" and fulfill my destiny?  Jeremiah 29:11says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  NIV  


I close with this: "Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting." - Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns


Until next Sunday,
Merry part and merry meet again,
Blessed be,
Gypsi Mama Michelle

Richmond, VA

Merry meet Friends,

Michelle here bringing lots of light and love!

                         

“When we illuminate the road back to our ancestors, they have a way of reaching out, of manifesting themselves…..sometimes even physically.” – Raquel Cepeda

“I am the now of the then.  My body is the embodiment of all my ancestors who came before me.  They live on in me.” – Jarod Kintz, This Book is Not for Sale

“Return to the land of your fathers; blood calls to blood.” – Horton Deakins

“When we have passed a certain age, the soul of the child that we were and the souls of the dead from whom we sprang come and shower upon us their riches and their spells, asking to be allowed to contribute to the new emotions which we feel and in which, erasing their former image, we recast them in an original creation.” – Marcel Proust, The Captive & The Fugitive (In Search of Lost Time, #5-6)

“When our hearts turn to our ancestors, something changes inside us. We feel part of something greater than ourselves.” – Russell M. Nelson

 

Since hearing my ancestors calling me home in September, 2012, I have been trying to figure out what that really means for me.  I don’t know which ancestors are calling.  I know next to nothing of my father’s side of the family.  A Haitian man with the title of Godfather told me that the LaForest’s were communicators.  That holds true for me, of course.  I don’t know any of the family stories, however.  On my mother’s side of the family, we have traced our ancestry back to the slave ship. 

I know that my Great Grandmother and her Grandmother were both midwives.  My Great grandmother, Rebecca, delivered most of the babies in Buckingham County at the time. She delivered my sister and a cousin.  She lived off of the land in Buckingham County/Farmville VA.  She had an outhouse, raised chickens for eggs and meat, and grew her own vegetables.  I did not like visiting her as a child.  Now I wished that I had spent summers with her and learned the ancient ways.  My Grandmother, Mary, was not interested in those ways and therefore didn’t keep all of them.  The women on my maternal side have always been very independent and strong; physically, emotionally and spiritually.  My Great-Grandmother was not tall in stature; what she lacked in height, she made up for in feistiness.  She was “feared” by her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.  She died on my 13th birthday. 

Grandma Earley, (as she was called), grandmother’s name was Amanda.  She was called Mandy and born into slavery.  She was as tall as an Amazon.  Her daughter Ida, my Great Great- grandmother, was born into slavery as well.  It ended when she was six.  The story goes that Grandma Mandy was married to a very short man.  Apparently they had an argument and he said some unkind things.  She picked him up and threw him against the wall.  When he picked himself up, he ran from the house and no one ever saw him again.  There is a saying among the women in my maternal family.  The saying is that we are not mean, we are firm.  I’m not sure Mandy’s husband would agree.

Grandma Ida was married to a free Indian blacksmith named Charles Lewis.  He was 31 and she was 14 years of age.  He purchased her off the auction block.  She was being sold because Judge Meredith’s wife didn’t like Ida because she was the judge’s child.  This is the same “mistress of the house” who stuffed the dishrag down Ida’s throat.  She was definitely a survivor.  When seeing pictures of Grandma Ida, one would think she was a white woman.  Charles Lewis was dark with a white beard.  My own father had a head full of grey/white hair; I suppose it’s the genes on both sides that I can attribute mine.  Grandma Earley had blonde hair that she could sit on.  She kept a plait of it in a picture frame. 

I felt that the “call to return home” meant to return to my roots.  Did that mean midwifery?  Did it mean farming?  I wasn’t sure.  As a child, other than the rain and playing outside, I don’t recall loving or even liking nature.  I wasn’t afraid of bugs or climbing trees but I guess I didn’t give nature a conscious thought.  As I’ve grown older, I find that being in nature is what soothes me.  I love the touch, feel and smell of the earth.  My time at Medicine Wheel in Earthaven instilled in me a love for growing my own food.  I’ve always had a green thumb and love growing house plants but had never tried gardening. 

Birthing or creating something from nothing is a passion of mine.  I have looked into midwifery and though I could see myself assisting in a birth and cheering on the mother, I don’t believe that I am called to that noble profession.  So is it farming?, I asked myself.  I definitely wish to live off of the land and grow my own non GMO food, so I do believe that’s a part of the call.  I think returning to my roots means something different, perhaps even ancient.  My friend, Reverend Whitney Blackburn-Lynch, shared with me how to do a Shamanic journey to find out where my soul was created.  I did and it was enlightening. 

My soul was created with medicine, magic, motherhood, wisdom, love, sex, beauty, fertility, the moon, birthing and the hunt.  The Goddesses Isis, Venus and Diana were there.  Medusa, whose name means “guardian” or “protectress”, was the one who led me to them.  She had locs instead of snakes for hair.  They were tossing each of those qualities into the fire and reciting words as they did so.  It’s interesting that I am born under the fire sign of Sagittarius.  Whether one adheres to mythology or not, I found it fun and interesting. 

The earth is our mother, Gaia.  I wonder if being called home has to do with being called back to the earth, to the ancient ways of women.  After sensing that call is when I became more interested in the ancient ways. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.  The ancient ways of women include but are not limited to, the healing arts, midwifery, blood wisdom, growing herbs and a “knowing,” better known as intuition.  These ways and being true to their inherent nature is what caused many women to be tortured, burned, and executed.  It caused many more to hide who they were for fear of the same punishment.  The wisdom of women still causes some to be isolated, shunned and misunderstood, even in our modern society.

I want to know about my ancestry and what gifts the women in my family shared.  If anything was passed down from generation to generation, it stopped somewhere before I was born.  My ancestors, as does everyone’s, go back to the beginning of time.  Whether one believes the biblical account of Adam and Eve or not, we still had to have originated from the same source.  We all share the same ancestors and bloodline.  So I guess my lineage is the same as all women.

What I do know is that my passion/ministry is toward women; helping women to remember who we are and were before patriarchy.  I am not advocating a world run by women.  I am advocating a balance of power, however.  Is it wrong to want to do the things that are inherent in women?  Everyone does not want to learn or live the ancient ways and I am fully aware of that.  But isn’t it good to know from whence we came; to understand yourself, children and grandchildren; to know why we may be interested in certain behaviors?  I believe that when we as women begin to know and honor ourselves, that men will do the same toward us and themselves.  As I embrace more of the Crone and becoming an Elder, I find that I am increasingly drawn to the cycles of the Earth, the Moon and the Holy-days on the Wheel of the Year. 

I have always been one to question.  I like knowing how things began and why.  We have become so accustomed, as a people, to accepting things blindly as truth and acting upon them.  To illustrate this, I will share a story that perhaps many of you have heard.  A woman was preparing a roast for dinner as her husband watched.  He noticed that she cut a portion of the roast off and placed it on the side.  He asked why she did that.  She said that she had always seen her mom do it.  The husband was an inquisitive chap and wanted to know, and so he called his mother-in-law to ask.  Her response was that she had seen her mother do it.  This led to a call to the grandmother.  When asked the question, she laughed and said that she had done it because her pan was too small for the roast.  How many generations would have done the same thing without someone questioning?

The Sankofa is a word in the Akan language of Ghana that translates in English to “reach back and get it (san-to return; ko-to go; fa- to look, to seek and take).  It is sometimes seen as the Asante Adinkra symbol of a bird with its head turned backwards taking an egg off its back.  Soren Kierkegaard said, “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”  This is why the Sankofa is moving forward in pictures.  We learn about the past to know our future.  In the story above, the husband “reached back” to get information which affected his future; (cooking all of the meat if nothing else).  It is my wish “to reach back and get it”, not only for myself but for all humanity.  “To know nothing of what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child” –Cicero.   My ancestors are crying to be heard.  They are saying, “Pick up the mantle.”   I am listening and obeying.


P.S. According to my cousin Debbie's comment, Grandma Earley delivered all of her daughter's children (her grandchildren) except one.  She also delivered one of her daughters, my grandmother, Mary aka Nana

Until next Sunday,

Merry part and merry meet again.

Blessed be!,

Gypsi Mama Michelle

Richmond, VA

Merry meet friends!

Michelle here, bringing lots of love and light

“Why should we live in such a hurry and waste of life?...I wish to live deliberately…I wish to learn what life has to teach, and not, when I come to die, discover that I have not lived…I do not wish to live what is not life…”   Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Bob Marley said, “Open your eyes, look within.  Are you satisfied with the life you’re living?”  If we’re not, then maybe it is time to make a change.  “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”   E.M. Forster.

What is the life that is waiting for me?  I have asked this so many times in my life.  As a survivor of sexual and domestic violence and breast cancer, I feel that there is a reason I have survived.  Of course, if I had not, there would be a reason for that as well.  But since I did, I would like to know why I did.  It’s not enough for me that I did, the whys of things have always been important to me.  I wrote this poem in 1977 which explains this feeling.

Purpose

I wonder what time

Has in store for me

I wonder what my purpose

In life could be.

We were all born to die;

We all know the reason why

But between birth and death,

There’s a space indefinite.

I can’t believe we’re put here

Only to exist

To say we’re only to survive,

To me is merely myth

There must be a purpose,

Something to fulfill

Perhaps I can find it,

I’m determined that I will.

What a moment that would be;

An everlasting proof

To know the reason for my birth,

To know at last the truth!

But until that day arrives,

I hope only to survive

This existence that’s so meager

Anticipating, hopefully,

A new rebirth so eager.  (Poetic license)

Michelle LaForest-Roberts © 1977

It’s extremely important to me to understand life and the meaning of it. 

I’ve always wondered why things happen as they do and what makes the mind work in the different ways that it does.  I believe that everything in life is energy emanating from the same source.  We are one with the source but are different expressions of it.  It’s similar to the waves in the ocean.  The ocean is in the waves and the waves are in the ocean but the waves are not the ocean.  They are just an expression of the ocean.  Some waves are higher than others and some are more forceful but they are all waves in the same ocean, none the less.  It’s the same with people.  We think and act differently but we are all still people from the same source.

I’ve been sad for the past two weeks.  I am an Empath so I never know when it’s my feelings or if I’m experiencing the feelings of others.  It could very well be my own though.  With the sun in Scorpio, which is also my rising sign, it is not unusual for me to experience sadness at present.  Scorpio is ruled by Mars and Pluto.  Mars is the planet of outward activity. “ Pluto is a force for change that can be destructive in its power.  As God of the underworld Pluto brings the deepest compulsions into the light.  Its position indicates areas of life that must ultimately become transformed as part of the soul’s evolution.  Scorpio is the most intense sign of the Zodiac, and is associated with sexual activity and with the symbolism of death and rebirth.  Their emotions run deep.”..Astrograph.com. I guess my innermost feelings are coming to the forefront in order to be healed.

I’m discovering that I am affected by the Full Moon.  I often forget this because it’s once a month.  The days, sometimes weeks, leading up to it is when I begin to feel it.  I didn’t consciously recognize this until my friend, Sonya Brown, reminded me.  Once the Moon is actually full or the second day of its fullness, I seem to be “normal” again; whatever that is.  LOL!  As of this writing, the Moon is in Gemini.  My Moon is in Gemini, so even though the Full Moon affects me in an emotional way, the Gemini Moon would have me feeling communicative, light hearted and playful.  Go figure.  I am in the process though, of accessing my life and looking at the places we/I would normally keep hidden from us/me. 

Who am I, really?  Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”  Based on this bold statement, it’s good that I am asking the questions.  I want to know who I am at the core.  “He who knows others is wise; he who knows himself is enlightened.”….Lao Tzu.  It’s not that I don’t know myself at all, it’s that I want to really know who I am.  What makes me tick?  Why do I act the way that I do?  Am I truly living life or am I pretending?  I refer back to the last part of Thoreau’s quote: “I do not wish to live what is not life.”  So what is life and how do I/we live it?  As my poem above says I don’t want to just survive.  I want to live, I want to live, I want to live!  If I’m feeling this way and I’m saying this, then it stands to reason that I am not living; at least not in the way my soul desires. 

But what is the desire of my soul?  That's another question that I've been asking for what seems like a lifetime.  The desire is to live but what does that mean for me?  There are the sayings of "Live out loud!, Live with gusto!, and so forth.  Does living life mean being who you are and not who people expect you to be?  Does it mean living boldly?  Does it mean living on purpose?  Does it mean no longer hiding from yourself?  For women, does it mean to let the wild, inherent nature out?  Does it mean howling at the moon?  Does it mean to just "be"? 

Am I over thinking this, as those close to me would say that I do?  How will I find the answers without asking the questions?  And as you can see, I have plenty!  As I become more of "me", I wish to express that.  Sometimes being me bothers people but sometimes it sets others free.  Thank you, Nessa Crescent Moon!  Howling at the moon can be so freeing.  It releases pent up feelings that we as humans suppress.  Observing nature and the animals can teach us how to live, I believe.  Eat when hungry, sleep when tired, eat from the earth and in season.  And definitely howl at the moon!

Life is a mystery to me and I have always liked mysteries since my Aunt Pat started us on mystery books as a child.  The process of figuring things out gets my adrenaline up and running.  But life is a mystery that’s still unfolding for me and probably always will.  I think every life is worth living, Socrates, however if what you stated is true, mine is, because I examine it to infinity and beyond.  Now that’s  some examining.  Life has twists, turns, ups, downs, mountain highs, valley lows, disappointments, exaltations, love, pain, beauty and creation.  All of these and more help us to “live life”.  Conan O’Brien said, “The beauty is that through disappointment you can gain clarity, and with clarity comes conviction and true originality.”   No, Bob Marley, I’m not always satisfied with the life I’m living, but it’s the one I have and I can/will make it count.  The journey continues.

Until next Sunday,

Merry part and merry meet again,

Blessed be…..

Gypsi Mama Michelle

 

 

 

 

 

Richmond, VA

Merry meet Friends!

Michelle here, bringing lots of light and love!

“If I make a fool of myself, who cares?  I’m not frightened by anyone’s perception of me.”……..Angelina Jolie

“I’m not interested in trying to work on people’s perceptions.  I am who I am, and if you don’t take the time to learn about that, then your perception is going to be your problem.”…..Jim Brown

“Anybody who’s ever gone through a hard time – any outsider’s perception, no matter how much information they’re given, they have no idea what the person’s life is like.”….Amy Grant

 

The word perception is defined as…”the ability to see, hear, or become aware of something through the senses; a way of regarding, understanding, or interpreting something; a mental impression”.  I realize that for most people “Perception is reality”…Lee Atwater.  If that is the way something is perceived by an individual, then for that individual, it is reality.  However, that isn’t always the truth.  Our perceptions are borne out of our upbringing, experiences and other people’s perceptions.  Attaching a meaning to or labeling someone or something because of a belief system developed over time, does not make that so.

We all have a way we would like to be seen in the world.  As children we are told to “put our best foot forward”, “first impressions count”, and so forth.  But that doesn’t indicate who the person really is, does it?  Case in point, Ted Bundy.  Bundy made such a “delightful” first impression that he was able to earn the trust of 30 women before luring them to a secluded place to murder them.  How was he able to do this?  He had such kind eyes and was so charming, that his first impression led to their last impression of a ruthless killer.

I am a light-hearted, fun loving, flirtatious, curious, “frisky mentor”, studious, intelligent, wild, free, orphic individual.  Needless to say, this has gotten me into trouble in relationships.  It was my “way of being” that caused some of the domestic violence in my first marriage.  He was a jealous insecure man and didn’t know how to handle someone like me.  Once in my first marriage when I was in the car with my then husband, I saw a friend walking down the street.  I waved at him and he waved back.  I was hit for that action because I was accused of him being “my man”.  He continued to hit so much that a policeman stopped the car.  Apparently he could see him hitting me from his car. The policeman asked if I was ok.  Honestly, I was too afraid to say that I wasn’t.  I thought I would get worse treatment when I returned home.

Sometimes in life I have felt the need to play small, to not be the person I am, for fear of hurting those in my life.  I believe that even gaining weight, at various times over the years, has been a subconscious action because it stopped some attention I may have gotten.  It became a defense mechanism, so to speak.  It has taken me quite a long time to become the “me” that I AM and I am still becoming.  I don’t always make the best choices in my journey of becoming, but the choices have been a part of my becoming.  We learn as we grow, hopefully.

My mother used to tell my sister and me that a man could get drunk and stay out all night, and he would still be called Mr. Whomever in the morning.  But, she said, if a woman did the same thing, she would be called a whore.  I grew up in the fifties and I realize those were different times but have we really come that far?  As I watched Scandal, on Thursday, Olivia Pope corrected the President when he called Abbie a “bitch”.  She said that if a man had acted like Abbie, he would be considered assertive, a take charge person.  Men and women are seen in totally different ways.  Is that from years of conditioning, a skewed perception or because we have a patriarchal society? 

I am not against men, I have two sons.  I am however, against the perceptions that men have placed upon women.  It’s not only men though.  Women do the same thing.  We label women who act differently than what’s considered the way a “lady” should behave.  Mae West said, “Well behaved women rarely make history.”  I don’t believe Mae was saying to totally disregard morals and to have no respect for one’s self.  I do think she was advocating equality and not double standards.  So in this regard, I guess I am considered a feminist or more likely a womanist.

I’m on my soap box about this, because this week I’ve had to deal with someone else's “perceptions” about how I act and who I'm expected to be.  I am so tired of other people telling me who I am!  I believe that I am open about my sense of self.  I shared a post on Facebook that said, "I don't know how to act my age; I've never been this age before."  I have a sense of humor and I like to play.  I do believe in the Wiccan Rede: In all things, do as you will but harm none.  To be sure, we can’t always know what action may cause someone harm.  But sometimes, it’s not truly harm; it is the person’s perception of how they believe things ought to be.  Most of the time it’s about the way they think certain actions of another make them appear.  Ego, at its best. 

It is my hope that we become a society of people who will take the time to get to know someone and not judge them based on perceptions.  I wish to see equality for ALL.  As long as we hide ourselves behind masks, though, people will never get to view the real us.  Perhaps perceptions are all they have if we are not being real.  We can use intuition and discernment to “show” us those we wish to know.  I want to know as I am known.  I want you to truly see me and allow me to see you. 

In my first year, and on the first day of seminary at The New Seminary, we did an exercise that I have never forgotten.  It touched me in so many ways.  Each person went to another person and said these words;  “Hi, I’m Michelle (or whatever the name).  I’m here to be seen.”  The other person then said: “Hi Michelle (or whatever the name) I see you.”  We then reversed it for that person.  This was done for each person in the room.  Some people just did the exercise but some really took the time to see you.  My first year dean, Sandra Bargeman, was one of those who I felt really saw me.  I cried and it changed me then and there.  Peabo  Bryson sang, “Feel me, I want to feel the fire, yeah.  Feel me, I want to feel you, Oh”.  I know that the song was about making love but it was also about feeling on a soul level.  Let us see each other so that we may feel the fire of each other’s souls and connect, really connect.

Until next Sunday,

Merry part and merry meet again,

Blessed be,

Gypsi Mama Michelle

Richmond, VA

Merry meet friends!

Michelle here, bringing lots of love and light…

This month, October, is Breast Cancer Awareness and Domestic Violence Awareness Month.  I am a survivor of both.  Both can and have killed women; the DV almost killed me, because at times I wanted to kill myself.  I’m glad I, and it didn’t.  In honor of this, and because Spirit said so, I am only posting one of my poems this week.   Perhaps it will speak to and help one woman somewhere.

A Woman’s Place

Feeling, hurting, grieving, crying

Living, loving, giving, dying

Teasing, fighting, pushing, shoving

Smiling, laughing, kissing, hugging

Sweeping, scrubbing, washing, mending

Standing, stooping, pulling, bending

Cooking, slicing, dicing, peeling

Praying, fasting, waiting, healing

Bumps and bruises

Cuts and scrapes

Feeling like she’s being raped;

Plundered, looted

Torn apart

Limb by limb

And then the heart.

Nurse, friend, wife, mother

Teacher, counselor, sister, lover

All things to everyone

Use all of her

And then some;

A woman’s place is hard to find

For it begins inside her mind

Hidden passions, plans and purposes

Pushed aside but trying to surface

Through the mirrors of her soul

To make her free, complete and whole.

Buried deeply in her being

Much too painful to start seeing

She beholds another image

Full of wrinkles, spot and blemishes

She doesn’t seem to realize

She’s been transformed in God’s eyes.

That marred image God has broken

God has cleansed, healed and spoken.

Now she can hear the Spirit’s call

To submit to purpose-and standing tall

Using spiritual strategies

Influence those she wants to please

The scepter beckons her to come

Into the presence of the throne

Giving her the kingdom is God’s pleasure

For to God she is a treasure

Union brings her face to face

In the heart of God

She’s found her place.

 

Michelle LaForest-Roberts
© 11/16/1997

Until next Sunday,

Merry part and merry meet again,

Blessed be,

Gypsi Mama Michelle

Black Mountain/Morgantown, NC

Merry meet friends.
Michelle here, bringing lots of light and love.

 “For the kickass women of the world
Those that are, and those that are growing up to be.
The daughters. The mothers. The sisters.
The fribblings – friends like siblings.
The wives. The girlfriends.
The aunts. The nieces.
The grand-somethings.
The young uns. The teens.
The women in your life.
Who love, lose, cry.
Laugh, heal, thrive.
Nurture. Create.

You. Are. Amazing.
As. You. Are.
Stronger than you know
More beautiful than you think.
Worthier than you believe.
More loved than you can ever imagine.
Passionate about making a difference.
Fiery when protecting those you love.
Learning. Growing. Not alone.
Warm. Giving. Generous.
Quirky. Sexy. Funny. Smart.
Flawed. Whole. Scared. Brave.
And so, so, so, much. More.
Be strong. Be confident. Be you.”

“Copyright: Tia Sparkles Singh, 2011
Your Life YOUR Way”
www.yourlifeyourway.net

 

For the past thirty years or more, I have had a passion for the empowerment of women.  Maybe it’s because I am a survivor of sexual and domestic violence.  Maybe as a student of history, I haven’t liked the way that women have been treated in a patriarchal society; or maybe it’s both.  Whatever the reason, it is my calling, my raison d’etre, as it were.  That’s why attending the SEWW conference meant so much to me, in addition to working the Sister Love Tent.  I felt that any women attending this particular conference would be of the same mind set or consciousness.  This was not entirely the case.

It is billed as an herbal conference but it is so much more.  It is about unity as women; supporting, encouraging, loving, understanding and mentoring.  I did not expect it to have elements of discord or separation.  As I walked around Unity Village or along the lake passing other women, I was surprised at those who did not speak or acknowledge my presence.  These were mainly European women, not all of course, but enough for me to notice.   As I passed women of color, I was greeted with words, smiles or a nod.  Even in the communal showers in the morning where we were totally exposed to each other, women did not acknowledge the presence of other women.  This was disconcerting to say the least.

I am not naïve when it comes to race relations.  I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s in Virginia.  We couldn’t shop at the same stores, drink from the same water fountains or attend the same schools as Europeans.  I am no stranger to racism and prejudice.  However, I do feel as if I were naïve pertaining to this conference.  As one of the tenders pointed out to me when I voiced my concern, these are the same people you might work with or who might live in your neighborhood.  Her point was that people are who they are.  I do know that, it’s just that I thought these people attending this conference would be different. 

I was told that an African American woman went inside the Red Tent and sat down.  A few European women were there honoring one another with love.  When the African American woman sat down, the European women left.  On Friday night when I worked the Sister Love tent, some European women came by.  One woman wanted to come in and her friend said she couldn’t, then looked at Jaki, one of the tenders.  When Jaki explained the purpose of the tent, one of the women became angry and said she thought it was racist.  She stormed off and Jaki tried to get her to come back but she wouldn’t.  Jaki eventually let European women into the tent because a friend of Ola’s (European) had entered.  We tried to follow the flow of things and not be rigid.  I’m glad it worked out that way. 

On Saturday when we had the Diversity Talking Stick for all women, and after the woman left who felt attacked for saying the Native Americans were happy on the reservations, I took the stick.  I said that in my experience, African Americans feel as if Europeans always seem to think that we are happy or know what makes us happy.  I cited a true story that a friend of mine told me.  He is a retired high school principal from the Miami Dade school system.  He said that as he walked by a history classroom, he heard the teacher tell the students that slaves were happy being slaves.  Needless to say he pulled the teacher out of the classroom and corrected him.

I find this to be a misperception of some Europeans.  This is probably because slaves were usually singing, dancing and laughing.  I explained to my friend Amanda that being happy in a situation is not the same as being happy with a situation.  Sometimes those activities kept them sane or from murdering someone.  No one is happy being mistreated or having your land taken and being forced to live on a reservation.  I think if Europeans didn’t grow up around non-Europeans or have non-European friends; there is nothing to draw on culturally.  Some Europeans get their knowledge from the movies where as we’ve had to learn the European ways.

Amanda, Lori and I sat in front of the tent relaxing one evening.  I’m not sure how the conversation started but Amanda asked why the slaves never fought back.  I explained that there were uprisings from time to time (Nat Turner’s rebellion) but some of the time, slaves would inform the slave owner and it would be thwarted.  The slave probably thought he should save himself in case the uprising failed.  Amanda said that I couldn’t be upset with them for self- preservation.  At first I agreed but then I said that I could be upset because there were more slaves than owners.  However, if the uprisings were successful, where would the slaves go and what would they do?

Most had been born into slavery as had their parents and grand- parents before them.  The plantation was all they knew and some had never been off of it.  This is the reason some slaves didn’t know what to do when they became free.  What was free?  This was a foreign word and concept. They wanted to stay on the plantation because it was their home.  I’m sure this fact is what led to the false belief that slaves were happy being slaves.  Amanda said she never thought about that and this is the reason she wants to learn. 

My great great- grandmother Ida was born into slavery.  She was six when slavery was abolished.  She had blonde hair and blue eyes.  In order for her to wash dishes, she had to stand on a box.  Once when she was washing dishes, the mistress of the house came into the kitchen.  She looked at the dishes and told Ida that they were not clean.  She then took the dish cloth and shoved it down Grandma Ida’s throat.  She shoved it so far that when she pulled it up, it was covered in blood and guts.  Her daughter, my Grandmother Early told the story and asked us why we thought it happened.  Of course the answer was because Ida was the mistress’s husband’s child.  Did she ever laugh again?  Of course she did but that did not mean she was happy as a slave.  Some slaves did kill their owners though.

When Sobande held her class “Herbs, Slavery and the South” on Saturday evening, she made this statement to Europeans.  “You own me.  I cook your food, feed your babies and take care of your household for twenty three (23) hours in a day.  In that last hour I get to go to my place and attend to my family unless your husband wants me.  And you let me cook your food?”  Sobande was making a point about the way slave owners thought.  It didn’t occur to them that a slave might harm them.  She said that many slaves put poisonous herbs into the food that they cooked.  A little of the herbs over a period of time would eventually kill the slave owner.  Sobande said she asked her grandmother if there were “good” slave owners.  Her grandmother said there were never good slave owners, some were better than others.  She was correct.  The term, slave owner is incongruent with good.

I said in last week’s post that I wasn’t sure how I felt about the Sister Love tent.  I said this because I wasn’t sure if the tent helped women of color to feel more or less inclusive.  I’ve really been struggling with this.  How does separating one’s self help one to feel more inclusive with the main group?  I understand that the tent was started as a way for women of color to talk about why they felt “not included” and perhaps along the way to discover ways to actually help with that.  In predominantly Caucasian colleges, African American student unions have been formed.  In a population of, say 2000 students, with only 10% being non-European, representation would be inadequate.  So a union is formed to discuss issues to take to the general student union meeting.  In that respect it makes sense that what may appear to be a separation would actually bring people together.

I think having the tent is not the issue.  Maybe it’s what is discussed in the tent.  I don’t feel the tent should be a place for negative commentary or an “us versus them” mentality.  I know I heard the word “cracker” used and it didn’t set well with me.  As women we have a great deal in common yet cultural differences have to be addressed as well.  I don’t feel one hour and a half in the Diversity Talking Stick class is enough time to explore differences and lack of knowledge.  Perhaps a Diversity Tent would be one answer and additional Sister Love Talking Stick classes.    

When Amanda and I returned to her home on Sunday night, her husband had prepared vegetable lasagna and a salad.  All ingredients were from her garden and so delicious.  Afterwards we had a store bought ice cream that I am now addicted to, thanks to her son, Brayton.  The next day Amanda and I talked in depth about the conference and race relations.  One of the things I shared was how all mothers are concerned for their children.  African American mothers with sons have a greater concern.  If my sons were to run down the street, and please don’t let them have on a hoodie, they are in danger of getting shot.  As a mother Amanda could understand that concern but it isn’t one she has to live with. There are so many things that the cultures don’t know about each other because it’s not being taught.

When I was in Earthaven, I asked Dimitri how many acres Earthaven had.  He said 360.  I jokingly said that 40 of them belonged to me.  He asked to what I was referring.  Of course I was referring to the 40 acres and a mule that were promised to slaves after they were set free.  Neither he nor Joel (Seaver's brother) knew anything about that.  He asked if it were every slave and I told him it was slave families.  Since it never happened, the descendants are waiting.  Dimitri said and I quote, “Those mother fuckers!” and Joel followed suit.  I laughed.  When I told Amanda about the conversation, she had never heard it either.  History books are not recording our history accurately. 

A woman, Susan, who was in the talking stick class, shared that she marched in the Civil Rights movement and had several African American friends.  She said that when the Black Power movement started, her African American friends abandoned her.  I heard her pain and apologized on behalf of all African Americans because that, in my opinion, was something that did not have to happen.  I explained that while it was necessary for us to have Black pride and know our worth, that shouldn’t mean dismissing European friends.  Susan had worked through her feelings long ago and I sensed that but I still felt pain.  She thanked me and accepted the apology.  We plan on meeting with two other women to continue the dialogue.

This planet and the people on it need healing.  We are one but we don’t act like it.  We still “see” separatism.  It’s not just color; it is also gender, class, education, gender orientation, etc.  I want to see equality for us all.  I’m starting with women because that’s my calling.  Females give birth.  Perhaps it will take females to birth a new way of seeing; a new way of being.  A pastor-prophet, Travis Thigpen, said that to me once.  He said GOD was giving me a “new way of seeing and a new way of being”.  That is my prayer for us all.  May it come forth as manna to feed a hungry world. 


Until next Sunday,
Merry part and merry meet again.
Blessed be,
Gypsi Mama Michelle

PS  I use Artisana coconut oil and I can only find it in NC.  Amanda took me to a health food store on the way to Charlotte.  Her mom rode with us.  As I stood in the line to pay, her mom gave the clerk the oil and paid for it.  I had just met her.  She has even invited me to stay with her for a few days when in NC and I tire of Amanda. LOL  Beautiful people!