Blessed Spring Equinox beloveds 🌞
This is an overwhelming & revolutionary time. Astrologically, spiritually, globally, personally. 🌀
How’s your heart, sacred one?
How’s your breath?
In the midst of all the worldly (and likely intimate) chaos, our systems often contract. To brace. To guard. To survive.
Let this be an invitation to soften. Your mind. Your chest. Your jaw. Your toe. And if that ain’t available, all good my love. Let this be an invitation to contemplate what softening could be like. One day, in some way.
Desire more support? Peep my affirmations for collective overwhelm here.
Re-imagining my activism…
In addition to all the violence in these global streets, I’ve also been at war with myself.
Many of you know me as a self-proclaimed activist. I have fought, advocated, protested, fundraised, donated, distributed, rallied, enlightened & educated.
TBH, I’ve done most of that at the expense of my own desires & well-being.
The truth is that a lot of my moves were from my inner critic (I call her Cuntina). From my “not-enoughness” instilled in me from global misogynoir, my daddy (and his trauma from colonialism), being neurofabulous, growing up poor & Black in rich white spaces etc.
And those moves did a hell of a lot of good. For others more than myself.
I’ve singlehandedly raised & distributed over $100K USD to single Black parents in 2020. I’ve called out/in more corporations than I can count. I’ve educated tens of thousands on doing the inner work needed for collective change.
👏🏾 Slow clap for those bo$$ bitch moves. 👏🏾
But/and, with a shit ton of deeper revealing & healing - including awakening to the fullness of my debilitated-ness & neurospice-osity - my activism must look different now. It’s softer. Quieter. Even more internal. And prioritizes my queer Black peace. What many wouldn’t call or understand as activism at all.
In the wake of leaving one way of being & moving toward another, all in the midst of multiple genocides, it can also feel…wrong. Not enough. Sometimes selfish.
Like I’m not who I say I am. “How dare I call myself an activist & not be raising all hell out in the world right now.” Even if that means harming myself.
And even when I’m raising MAD hell when it comes to becoming my most authentic (revolutionary) self, and shifting into the state of love, peace & compassion this next stage of collective liberation requires.
I know that’s Cuntina talking. And, I also know many activists (and even folx doing nary a dang thing) police what activism is/can/should look like. I certainly did (still do sometimes, but cha girl’s workin’ on it).
I’ve feared they’re gonna judge, shame and/or come for me. But that’s not the liberation I’m after nor should it be my motivation.
I know I’m not alone in these thoughts & feelings.
There’s so much more to say about this y’all. And I will. But, for now, to my fellow melanated, queer and/or disabled activists - I wanna extend encouragement to change like the seasons. To show up in our activism as our whole, true Selves & in ways that also honor & support our well-BEing. Like nature does…naturally.
Especially my queer, trans & disabled Black and Indigenous femme and gender-expansive kin.
This too, is how we get free.
I’d love to know if/how this resonates with y’all so please do hit reply or comment below!
A Few Resources..
If you’re like me & appreciate support affirming your goodness, this Ruth King meditation is my go-to.
Ashmi Pathela’s IG account has phenomenally aligned downloads in support of the inner revolutions in the collective.
And if you want a visceral, hand-held reminder that you’re all you need to be, I gotchu…
We’re in this together.
I love you. 💗
xo R
PS - together we contributed $450 USD to Friends of the Congo in Feb to rescue children from mines, provide food for displaced folx in conflict zones & more. THANK YOU!
When I first saw the title of this, my chest constricted in fear. I just expected another reminder that No, of course I'm not doing enough. I'm so glad I chose to read it anyway, because what you wrote here was truly a balm to my tired, shame-filled soul and body. I was in tears by the end of it. Thank you for this affirmation that radically allowing myself the love, rest, and care that I need IS me doing "The Work." You made my inner critic be quiet for just a minute, and for that I'm very grateful.