Monday, September 24, 2012

Love is You

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK:

"Chrisette Michele Payne (born December 8, 1982), known professionally as Chrisette Michele, is an American R&B and soul singer-songwriter. She is signed to the Island Def Jam Music Group[2] and won a Grammy Award for Best Urban/Alternative Performance in 2009 for her song 'Be OK'.  

I Am (2007)
Michele's debut album, I Am, was released on June 18, 2007. The song 'Your Joy' was released on iTunes as a free single of the week. The album spawned four singles: 'If I Have My Way', 'Best of Me', 'Be OK', and 'Love Is You'. The album's lead single 'If I Have My Way' charted at number four on US Billboard's Hot Adult R&B Airplay and number twenty-four on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs. 'Best of Me' charted on the Hot Adult Contemporary Tracks at number twenty-one. In December 2007, 'Be OK' was released as the third single, charting at number sixty-four on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs and number twenty-one on the Hot Adult R&B Airplay. In 2008, 'Love Is You' was released as the album's fourth and final single; it reached number ninety on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs and number twenty on the Hot Adult R&B Airplay."(Wiki) (Lyrics)



Kai's Thoughts:

Making love takes time.
Touch me. Touch yourself(soul)search.
Meet me in the stars.
Time. I don’t have enough of it, and I’m trying to find the right tools to make it. Time is something that we actually have control of to a certain extent. Though we are all living under a capitalist system which uses time to punish and control how and when our bodies can move, yet some of us manage to escape time. Some of us have managed to find a freedom groove, and as our feet tip and toe in and out of time, we become the sustaining reminders that something else is possible. Love. Love is a radical act especially when you’ve been hurt. To love is to allow your heart to be moved. What kind of lover are you? 
I have always been a romantic. I believe that long walks under the stars with a loved one can save your life and theirs. I believe that a mixtape has the potential to send messages deeply from my heart space; it can create a sacred space of sonic bonds. Can you feel the beat? These freedom chords mark the distance and closeness between you, the universe and me. Can you hear that? Does the hearing make you feel? What makes you believe (again)? I believe in magic and poetry. I believe that dancing and laughter are freedom portals. 
And what of heartbreak and loss? It comes and it goes, but at the end of the day love will remain intact, if you allow it. Can you forgive the ones who have hurt you? Can you forgive yourself for the ones you’ve hurt? Forgiveness is essential to creating a healthy heart space. How do you forgive?
Here are some of the types of love according to me;-) What others can you think of?
Self-Love: This is something I am cultivating daily because I don’t believe you can really love another until you enter the process of (re)loving yourself. Your love is amazing, so why not share it with you? By loving myself consciously, I teach myself(worth). As a queer people of color, this can be an especially hard task because for many of us we have always been castigated. Often times we are placed in the weirdo section. We become the easily disposable bodies of the state. We are the damned with the hard lessons to teach. Listen. We are the geniuses unafraid to step out of line and ask for something new. How do you practice loving yourself? How do you take the time to love and heal yourself?
Sisterly/Brotherly/Queerly Love: I love looking into his eyes and watching him smile, because he is gorgeous. Because he is so sweet. Because he is brilliant and dreams in the daylight. Because he is small and strong. Because he listens. Because he makes time to sip coffee and eat stir-fry with me in the afternoon. Because he is unafraid to risk vulnerability. He is unafraid to reveal himself. And I see a reflection. I love this boi, he is a friend of mine. You ever met a kindred spirit? Did it feel like going home?  
Hot-sexy love: I can’t really look into your eyes for too long for fear of falling too hard and too soon. But I always like meeting you because you remind me that my heart still works and my capacity for loving is still in tact. But for this love, move slow. Move slow because what’s the rush? Take your time and let the beat build.
You can feel all these loves at once in/for yourself and with others;-)

I dedicate this Jam to Oakland, September 2012<3

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Me and the Devil

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "Gil Scott-Heron released his new album I'm New Here on independent label XL Recordings on February 9, 2010. Produced by XL label owner Richard Russell, I'm New Here is Scott-Heron's first studio album in sixteen years. The pair started recording the album in 2007, with the majority of the record being recorded over the last twelve months with engineer Lawson White at Clinton Studios in New York. Some have called the record “reverent” and “intimate” due to Scott-Heron’s half-sung, half-talked delivery of his poetry. “I’m New Here” is 28 minutes long with 15 tracks. However, casual asides and observations collected during recording sessions are also included as interludes.[10] The album attracted substantial critical acclaim with The Guardian newspaper's Jude Rogers declaring it one of the next decade's best records.[33]

The first single from the album was "Me And The Devil", which was released on February 22, 2010. It was debuted by BBC Radio 1's Zane Lowe as his "Hottest Record In The World", along with other specialist DJs such as Gilles Peterson and Benji B. The album's remix, We're New Here, was released in 2011, featuring reworking by English music producer Jamie xx of material from the original album.[34] It was also very well received by music critics."(Wiki) (Lyrics)


Kai's Thoughts:

Drive slow, Homie, those are the words I whisper to myself while driving these days, especially if it’s late at night because I hate getting pulled over. I have completely modified my driving in the last six months. I used to speed. I used to drive in the carpool lane alone and I was quick to blow my horn at those cars that irked me with their timidness, but now I drive slow, Homie. Still I seem to get pulled over more and more. I was given a ticket a couple of weeks ago for making a right turn on a green light while the walk sign was up (but there weren’t any people crossing). The cop asked me, “What if someone had run out into the street?” What if… I asked him for a warning and he said “Sorry, I didn’t pull you over to give you a warning, but you should just take it to court and contest it.” Thanks.
I headed up to the Bay Area to reconnect with my hometown, a place I haven’t lived since I was 15. Things have really changed and stayed the same. I see the new uptown is booming while East Oakland, where I come from and where my mother still lives… well, I see struggle and sorrow in the eyes of my people there. I see crack and other substances still taking their toll. I see babies walking the stroll and police watching (like me, but not…). What is their job here? To keep us in our place...And if you forget…they will help you find your way home
Sirens flash and I’m heading back to Alameda (I’m staying with my cousin in Alameda while I’m here). I pull over. Confused because I know that I wasn’t going 1 mile over the 25mph speed limit because the last time I was in Alameda I got a speeding ticket for going 37mph (I feel that if I’m going to be cited for speeding then damn let me really be speeding…) I pull over. A bright light flashes. Then the same bright remains, lighting up my car from behind. I feel the light behind my head, cold and as dark as it is bright. Blinding my eyes and I am afraid. For ten minutes I sit with this light on me, wondering what next. I dare not open the door and ask. Should I pull out my registration from the glove box? No, no sudden movements. They might think you’re pulling out a weapon. My heart is racing because I know that I have followed all the traffic laws yet and still here I am again under the gaze of some white male officer who shines his unwanted light on me. He finally comes over and I realize why I got pulled over and the person tailgating behind me didn’t… “Where are you going? Where are you coming from? What are you doing here in Alameda? What’s the address of your cousin’s place?” I didn’t know the exact address so I gave some cross streets and then he asked me more about the area. Eventually he told me that I had a headlight out and that’s why he pulled me over, but really it is clear that I was simply out of place. My Black body in my black Acura with a spoiler was out of place and he needed to remind me (One of my besties tells me I should get a bike rack to make my car less Black. I was thinking to get an I <3 Police sticker;-).
“So if you see the vulture coming/ flying circles in your mind/ remember their is no escaping/ for he will follow close behind./ only promise me a battle/ a battle/ for your soul and mind/ and mine/ and mine”
What is freedom? The ability to move if and when you want to.
What is home? A space that holds all of who you are without question. I’m discovering home in Oakland. Spending time and sharing space with family and friends. Folks that I only knew via Facebook have shown up in real life. And I am grateful because I needed to be reminded that I am always held and always loved wherever I go. I find home when I find my people. It’s simple—like a hug gentle and firm all at once. It’s a smile. It’s a song shared that moves in the space between you and me, filling in the gaps. It’s recognition of the impossible existing right in front of your eyes—the person who got free and still struggles to get free everyday. I’m thankful for you and your courage and your will to live and create a beautiful life. My friends, my people, my loved ones from LA to the Bay and all over—I appreciate you.

Home is what you make
Love, make peace love, make me free
We together, here[1]

And if you can, don’t forget to get out and support Elvira TODAY(RIGHT NOW!) For more info click here.:   



[1] Hear?

Monday, September 10, 2012

This Bitter Earth

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "'This Bitter Earth' is a 1960 song made famous by rhythm and blues singer Dinah Washington.[1] Written and produced by Clyde Otis,[2][3] it topped the U.S. R&B charts for the week of 25 July 1960 and also reached #24 on the U.S. pop charts.[4] The song is a key piece in the 1977 film Killer of Sheep by director Charles Burnett." (Wiki) (Lyrics)


Kai's Thoughts:

Have you seen me?
The splinter in my left hand, crooked fingers, scarred hands and jagged nails.
Three small moles on the left thumb and a burn below the right wrist-
Aged lines, marks of growth climb up my legs onto my back
Chicken-pox are gone, but left me all spotted.
Have you seen me?
The scars, the marks-
Do you think I’m beautiful all scarred and marked?
Outsides and insides- every outside mark has a name, and inside place.
Yes, I was sad there, clumsy there, lonely there
And I found freedom there
Have you seen me?
Did you leave any marks, any scars?
Inside or out?
Is your name here?
Have you seen me?
Did you make me more beautiful all scarred and marked?

Yes, I am beautiful all scarred and marked. We are all made up of joy and pain. I have been feeling some of earth's bitterness recently, but I don't believe I'll remain in that place. I allow myself space for sadness, anger, and disappointment. I am learning to be and sit with loss instead of immediately trying to get rid of the feelings. Sometimes we move on too quickly--I know that has been my tendency. When I'm hurt I long to move on to the next stage as soon as possible which is always something great. But there is something to be said for being conscious of the scars you have accumulated--in order to do this you might have to be uncomfortable for a little while. This is the place where you learn about yourself--growing pains are real. I have a hard time being alone because I have abandonment issues, but I am learning to be alone and to enjoy myself. I'm teaching myself to appreciate my own company because I don't think I have valued myself, my own awesomeness as much as I should. A lot of the scars I have are self-inflicted, self-doubt, my own voice telling me that I am not good enough. I'm taking the time now to re-meet myself and appreciate the person that I am and the person that I am becoming. This has been a year of transition and I welcome the journey to becoming a better me. It's a dialectical struggle;-) 



  

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Best is Yet to Come

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "'The Best is Yet to Come'" is a 1959 song composed by Cy Coleman, with lyrics by Carolyn Leigh. It is associated with Frank Sinatra, who recorded it on his 1964 album It Might as Well Be Swing, accompanied by Count Basie, under the direction of Quincy Jones. It was the last song Sinatra sang in public, on February 25, 1995, and the words "The Best is Yet to Come" are etched on Sinatra's tombstone. Though Sinatra made it popular, the song was actually written for and introduced by Tony Bennett.[1] "(Wiki) (Lyrics)

I'm listening to Nancy Wilson's version (Nancy Wilson is one of my favorite jazz vocalist FYI): 

 


Kai's Thoughts:


It is important to be present allowing yourself to feel everything that is happening in this moment and in this place/space. I believe those things because there is something to be learned from every situation and sometimes we find ourselves making the same mistakes because we don't take the time to be still in uncomfortable places. I am being still—listening and feeling all that is within me. But I know that for me, the best is yet to come. Faith is what has kept me strong in difficult moments, the dream that some elsewhere is possible here.
Here are some of my declarations for this week:
*Changes and transitions are more graceful as I cooperate with them.
*I let go of control without losing control.
*I never fear my own truths, powers, fantasies, wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghost.[1]

What are some of your declarations or affirmations that you will hold on to this week? Please share:-)


[1] These are taken from David Richo’s book, How to be an Adult: A Handbook on Psychological and Spiritual Integration

Monday, August 27, 2012

Someday We'll All Be Free

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "'Someday We'll All Be Free' is a 1973 song by Donny Hathaway from the album Extension of a Man. The song was released as the flipside to the single "Love, Love, Love". Though the song was only released as an uncharted A-side, it is considered an R&B standard, having been covered by many artists over the years. The lyrics were written by Edward Howard, for and about the mental pain that Donny Hathaway was experiencing at the time." (Wiki) (Lyrics)

Kai's Thoughts:

Dear Donny,
You have saved my life over and over again and for that I thank you. I thank you for telling me to hang on. I thank you for creating notes that folks had never heard sung before, so blue. In your voice I recognize a sadness, a deep sadness, but also a deep desire to hold on and to struggle for dreams and freedom. You held on as long as you could and I appreciate and respect your struggle. Thank you for leaving something behind for a queer Black boi like me to hold on to. I thank you.
Yours in Love and in Struggle,
Kai
****
I go to the ocean to cry. I go to the ocean because it reminds me of a day when my mom, my dad and me went to the beach. We had a picnic basket. I remember being excited because, at least for a moment, I could pretend we were a family---my dad protected us and my mother stared lovingly at him and laughed at all his jokes. But we all knew that we were playing out some heteronormative fantasy that never quite existed for us Black folk in the same way. We probably wouldn’t have used those words, but that is what it was. For a moment, even though we knew it was play, it was nice. It was nice to feel held and protected in the shelters of patriarchy. If only that were really the case, if only we had really been protected and safe. That dream so quickly turns to nightmare and the beach fantasy fades away leaving us still poor and still Black in a country that spends more money and energy on killing the poor instead of changing the conditions that produce the poor.
I have struggled with depression for most of my life and I mean that. I can remember sitting in the dark of my mothers closet burying myself in mountains of clothing and feeling comforted by the darkness and the calming cool of the space. I was young, very young and I would go in there and sing a song, my song, “nobody loves me, nobody likes me.” I sang this over and over again until I could cry. I remember one afternoon my mother caught me and asked me what was wrong. I didn’t know how to tell her what was wrong because I didn’t know. She asked me if it was because my Dad was away in prison and I said yes. She tried to comfort me then. My sadness went deeper than my Dad’s incarceration, but I didn’t have the words to articulate a feeling, a thing that I continue to carry even now. There was no particular reason for my tears, but they still came. I felt like I had to justify them, but I’m learning how to not. How to just let them fall how to take deep breathes and release. The ocean always changes for it is always moving and we couldn’t stop that if we wanted to—and some seem to be trying.
This post is difficult to write because my depression feeds off of being hidden in closets, at night alone, I sneak away and when I am alone I am met with a deep sense of sorrow.
Don’t have to justify my tears/ I go to the ocean and breathe in God/I breathe out all that has been bound in here/In my chest/But for now I give myself rest
When I was in high school my feelings of sadness I discovered came from not being able to articulate anger, not feeling as though I could say I don’t like this or that, yet I still felt all of those things. I would listen to Donny Hathaway albums and cry after cutting myself. I cut myself because I wanted to cry, but could no longer get to the tears. The physical pain helped me to cry. I wanted to feel and not to feel all the things that felt just to heavy to bear. I didn’t know how to articulate these things because I hadn’t been taught how to deal with hurt feelings. I was taught to forgive, forgive without working through and move on. Keep moving. No matter what, keep moving. I had to be strong because there were moments in my childhood when there weren’t people around to protect me.
In high school I learned how ask for what I want/need. I learned that it was okay to ask for what I want and to tell someone what I don’t like. As a survivor of childhood sexual trauma, I still struggle with feeling like it’s okay to ask for what I want/need and what I do not. I’m not afraid of the tears. I’m not afraid of the sadness. I know it is all there and I listen to it. I stopped cutting after high school, but I can still feel the kind of pain I felt back then. What I do to manage these days is to talk about it even though it’s hard, even though I still feel a great sense of shame around my struggles with depression.
I write this to let other folk who struggle with depression know that it is okay. You are not weak. You are very strong and I love you. If you struggle with sadness and depression, what are some of the tools you use to keep yourself healthy? If you are an ally/friend to someone with depression, what are the tools you use to support? Here are some of my tools:
1) As I am taking hormones, I have to be extra careful about the balance of chemicals in my body, so I take supplement like St. John’s Wort (comes in tea form). I also drink other hormone balance teas. Vitamin D supplements are essential for me. When I was in high school I discovered that I had a very serious vitamin D deficiency. I had to take an overdose of vitamin D for years. A lack of vitamin D can seriously affect ones mood, so get your levels checked if you can). Here is a link with some other herbal suggestions.
2) Talk therapy has been good and very necessary in moments while in others it has simply felt like an unhelpful task that I resented. Figure out if talk therapy works for you and mostly that’s about finding the right therapist. Don’t be afraid to ask your therapist for what you need. If you need assignments, if you need more feedback, if you need feedback in a particular way—let them know. This is a space that is about you so don’t be afraid to make it work for you and take up the space you need. There are also other forms of therapy that are based in somatic practices that might be useful especially if you are trying to deal with trauma.
3) Meditate. For me meditation sometimes comes in the form of sitting and conscious breathing. Sometimes I do yoga poses, but what has been the best kind of meditation is hiking. Find your meditative practice, a time where you encounter yourself whole and consciously aware of both your mind and your body. I have a difficult time being fully present in body which is why I like meditative hikes because I spend time asking my body how it feels and observing and feeling all of myself as I move. Of course sometimes it is good to be still. Can you be still?
4) Regular physical activity is a MUST. I do some kind of strenuous physical activity at least three times a week (recently I have been running). When I can feel myself falling into a bout of depression I know that I need to workout more even though those are the times when I just want to hide away in bed. I have to push myself to do the activity knowing that I always feel better afterwards.
5) Check in with friends. People love you and care about you. If you’re having a hard time let someone know. If you can, ask for what you need. I have a really hard time reaching out to people when I’m depressed because I feel ashamed. I also don’t want to feel like a burden. Yes, you have to be careful of boundaries, but let your friends and loved ones know you are having a hard time because they love you and as much as you might feel like it, you are not alone.
Freedom in my heart/ Freedom in my bowl/ And my face is black/ Like my freedom/ Like my soul/ The thing that can never be bought or sold/ Black is beautiful/ Black as night/ Black and the time is right/ To escape we don’t need the light/ We just need each other
That’s all I have for now. What are some your strategies for coping with depression? Please share.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Love Never Changes

Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: "Love Never Changes" is from Ledisi's 2009 Album, "Turn Me Loose." If you don't know about Ledisi....you need to know. Ledisi WikiLedisi Official Website , Lyrics .


Kai's Thoughts:  

Love, it will never go/ Love, even when you go/ It never leaves, no, no/ Love never changes, love

Love just is. It exists above, below, and all around us, but what's most important is the love we all carry within. We must cultivate this love within, especially as queer people of color. We must practice loving ourselves and one another fiercely.  As my body goes through stages of healing I have had some difficulty looking at myself, my chest, right now as it is. I know that my scars will fade and in reality I'm healing really fast (Thanks to all of you who have supported and continue to support me). But it is still difficult for me to sit with the scars as they are now without wandering into some future moment where my body is fully healed and my nipple pigmentation has returned. There is nothing wrong with thinking about the future or even planning it, but when that future or even some past has the power to take us away from the blessing of this present, then we miss the opportunity for presence. It is sometimes difficult to look at oneself right where you are, right now. In this very moment can you affirm the beauty of you? The love that is you? I affirm the love I have for myself and my body right now in this moment (Take a second to do the same for yourself, because you deserve it). This is my struggle these days and it can feel stifling. I am practicing tapping into my(self) love, the unconditional love that I have for myself, it is where I want to find my will to survive. I often find that the love I have for others comes easy--I forgive easily. I love hard. I love long. For you...But what happens when it's just me alone in a room? When I search for some of those things to give to myself, sometimes I can't find them. I'm working on it.

Marlon Riggs
I'm inspired by so many, but the artists Lyle Ashton Harris and Marlon Riggs stand out to me today. These artists throw themselves into their work, into their art, and it feels like life. Their art is life that refuses death even in the face of death, they choose love. Through their art they give love boldly. I am always so moved when I watch Riggs,' Black is...Black Ain't  because his film is a gift of love to all that watch it, but you can also see how Riggs' loved himself enough to share this vision with us. He was dying and he allowed us to witness his transition from this world to the next. He did not go easily. He left us road-maps, tools, art and every time I revisit his art I revisit him in all his beauty and brilliance. I am thankful that he took the time to make art with love and persistence. Riggs and Harris like so many other queer people of color,  refused to be silent. They were and we are the people who survive even though they/we were never supposed to. Or better said by Audre Lorde, "For to survive in this dragon we call America, we have had to learn this first and most vital lesson – that we were never meant to survive. Not as human beings." We are miracles.  

Lyle Ashton Harris gives us “Redemptive Narcissism” as '“...self-love... a form of resistance to the tyranny of mediocrity. I see the mirror not only as a site of trauma and death – Narcissus falling in to drown – but as a space for rigorous meditation, cleansing and recuperation.”' How might we use redemptive narcissism as a tool? What will you do today to show your(self) love?
Lyle Ashton Harris, "Brotherhood"

Today I give love back to me
Told I was just too Black to be
Too queer to see
that there simply wasn't anymore room
For we
We who dare to love bodies like our own
Black, queer, scarred, hard and soft
Brown, shy, fierce, and brave,
We could never just behave
Could never completely be cadged
Perhaps our bodies, never our souls
But I want it all, 
Back to me
I give love to me courageously.


 

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Easy


Kai's SONG OF THE WEEK: '"Easy' is a 1977 hit single by Commodores for the Motown label, from their fifth studio album, Commodores. Written by Commodores lead singer Lionel Richie, the song, a slow ballad with country and western roots, expresses a man's feelings as he ends a relationship. Rather than being depressed about the break-up, he states that he is instead 'easy like Sunday morning.' Richie wrote 'Easy' with the intention of it becoming another crossover hit for the group, given the success of a previous single, 'Just to Be Close to You', which spent 2 weeks at #1 on the Billboard R&B chart and peaked at #7 on the Billboard Hot 100 pop charts in 1976.[2] Released in March 1977, 'Easy' reached #1 on the Billboard R&B chart, and #4 on the Billboard Hot 100.[2] The success of 'Easy' paved the way for similar Richie-composed hit ballads such as 'Three Times a Lady' and 'Still' and also for Richie's later solo hits. The song is noted for a feedback noise, with an echo, that is heard in the Bridge of the song. Also, an electric guitar solo dominates the instrumental portion of the song. In addition, the other Commodores are heard singing wordless harmonies during the Chorus of the song. The edited version receives the most airplay. The longer version from the album features the chorus being repeated more times, a half step up, from A Flat Major to A Major, a few times before it fades out."
(Wiki)
 (Lyrics)

Kai's Thoughts:  
Sunday mornings with mom. Music blasting from the stereo. Even 106 KMEL had a gospel playlist to help usher in the morning. In the morning. In the morning when I rise. Sunday mornings were not always easy, but every time I hear this song I think of my Sunday mornings growing up and I smile. Everything before church always seemed rushed, bath time in a hurry, dress clothes needed to be ready and ironed. No wrinkles. No wrinkles. I hate wrinkles, but I could never get the wrinkles out. Mom could get them out even when she hurt her right arm and was in pain, she'd use her left. Even her left hand ironing was better than my right. My Dad could iron too, and when he was around he'd iron all of our clothing, he'd give use creases always. I still haven't mastered the art of ironing.
 
There was room for a quick breakfast: toast, cereal, or sometimes we'd just wait for the church snacks. Church snacks included mints, gum, menthol halls, those round red sweet and sour balls that had gum in the middle, those were my favorite after Now and Laters. Before leaving the house, we'd take turns checking ourselves out in the mirror. When my dad was around he'd always take the longest pointing out the waves in his hair and over all smoothness. We all had fun in the mirror.
My mom was always dressed to impress, hats titled to the side never falling off though. But what always stood out to me was the way my mother smelled. I loved the way my mother's sweet aroma would linger. It was either  White Diamonds or Giorgio  perfume. I knew my mothers scent the same way I knew the jingle of her keys. If ever we got separated, I'd just wait for the sound of those keys. I can still pick that sound out in crowd today.

 
Getting to church might not have been the easiest thing, but once you were there you could breathe a little. I always enjoyed the music. Everyone loves the music. It moved people to cry,  jump, shout, or sometimes to even sprint around the church. I loved it when the choir would march in swaying to a beat, robes dancing all on their own. Yes, I loved the A and B Selections, but what I loved even more than that was what would come after. After the tithes & offerings, and after the announcements, there would be a moment of prayer just before the preaching would begin. This moment of reflection cleared space in our minds and in our hearts so that we would be able to receive whatever it was God wanted us to. This opening prayer could sometimes be just as powerful as the word itself. I have recently been thinking about my relationship to prayer. Prayer, for me, is meditative and feels easier to do when someone is leading you in a group prayer - I like that feeling of connectedness and community when trying to access God. 

I remember the weekday mornings, my mother would drop me off at my grandmother's house and one of the first things she'd have us (my cousin Teenie who was my age and her husband Jimmy, who we called Big Daddy) all kneel around her bed and each of us would go around and say our prayers out loud. Back then I wasn't afraid but now I feel anxiety when asked to pray aloud, because back then I was able to have a conversation with God and not fear what those around me would think. Now I sometimes fear that my prayers might not be good enough, not good enough for the people around me. I wonder if I also feel perhaps that my prayers aren't good enough for God. And then I wonder how did I get this way. When did I start believing that my prayers needed to be polished and revised to be heard? I'm working on freeing myself of that. 

 <Just got lost in a prayer>

The highlight of a Sunday service for me was the sermon, the story that we'd look to in scripture and the story the preacher would tell to bridge the gap between that biblical story and the story of our everyday lives and material conditions. We/I needed those links, those stories, those metaphors because they gave and still give us/me faith, faith that the impossible is possible. The impossible is possible, like walking on water or water that can be turned to wine. I paid close attention to the words of the preacher, but not just the words. The silences, the spaces between the words, the breaks were sometimes just as telling...a moan, a wave of the hand... I noted moments when I didn't quite understand or agree, but I was always listening for the message God had for me. All my years of church, Sunday school, vacation bible school, choir rehearsals, and what I remember most is faith that the impossible is possible. What I remember is the will to persevere. I hold on to the belief that God is love and love is the greatest gift we have to offer one another. I learned this through Christianity, but I also had to unlearn a lot of what had been taught to me because it wasn't love and it wasn't God. I know that Christianity has been a colonialist project, but I know that is not all it has been for me. It is but one mode of accessing something else, God, love, the divine. If I hadn't been raised in the church, I don't think I'd feel so passionately about injustice and freedom.
Mom, Oldest Brother, Me, Aunt

So this was a long road to get to my easy like Sunday Morning, which didn't occur back then until the late afternoon. The after church moments. The moments when we'd meet up with family at a restaurant or at my aunt's house for Sunday dinner and games. We'd change into our play clothes. We'd laugh. We'd eat and it was it is easy. I remember those moments as warm, tender, and fun, so much fun. Those were the moments I never wanted to end and those are the moments I remember on easy Sunday mornings.