the ritual

i find peace in the small acts: lighting the incense the sage the candles this ritual -before the rituals of chanting and meditation- is the sweetest hypnotic release – another ode to self-care routines the first ode: the sweet solace of the moments we give to our selves Featured Image by @hellokalequeen

travelling solo- travelling to yourself

travelling alone makes you brave it gives you moments to discover innate parts of yourself that you might subconciously hide travelling alone, teaches you how to be your own companion how to enjoy stillness it teaches you to be still, even when afraid I have learnt so many beautiful lessons about myself on solo trips….

dissonance

on removing oneself from disharmonious relationships and spaces. to learn gentleness once again

i trust myself

October 2016, At a ‘Healing Retreat’, one of the participants says: “I trust myself” and I burst into tears. Three simple words. I think about them everyday and sometimes like that day, I hurt. I have always had ‘trust issues’. You can’t trust anyone. Its a lesson I am taught through pain and at perhaps…

-the elusive healing power of vitamin d

I was waiting for the sun they said it would heal they wrote it on prescription pads over and over again so i dreamt of the sun, i, a cynic prayed for the light i wrote many poems hoping to coax her out of her hiding when like a queen striding out to meet her…

the hard children

the world is a hard place so we raise children with fire and brimstone with grit We harden them to the embodied parts of themselves. prize reason, and rationale over feeling and being the world is a hard place so we raise hard children and so the cycle of the hard world continues perhaps we…

waking up to myself

I am here waking up to myself. It is as if I came from a long slumber, where who I was, who I became, was predetermined by the circumstances of my life the pain caused to me and the forced moulding of white-supremacist education. In that slumber, there were moments of joy and laughter, it…

-breaking apart

sometimes, it feels as though I’m melting spreading into lather-like substance losing firmness consistency breaking apart, slowly- irrevocably a withered fern losing its light other times, melting is like healing its the scabbing of old scars its taking me into surprising new forms its as though the fire of pain came to glue me to…