My Grandma's 70th Surprise Birthday Party!

By Shaka
Son of Mama Isis
It was the spring of 2005. My Mommy, Uncle, 2 cousins and I drove to Atlanta from Washington, DC for Grandma’s 70th Surprise birthday party. It took us about 12 hours to get there. We watched Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and slept the rest of the way.



The next morning we prepared for Grandma’s party that night. My mommy and Aunty Juliet took care of all the details. Later on that evening, my cousins and I took Grandma for a ride in the limousine. After that she still didn’t know we were giving her a surprise party. When we returned from the limousine ride all the guests were waiting quietly in the dark. We walked grandma to the door and rang the door bell. Aunty Juliet opened the door and the lights came on and everyone shouted…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! SURPRISE!!

Grandma was very surprised! In fact, tears ran down her eyes. She was so happy. My Grandma surprise party was so much fun. Family, friends, and neighbors gathered together to wish her a lifetime of joy and happiness. I will never forget that day.

(I was 7 years old when I wrote this. I am now 11 years old.)

Allow Me To Introduce Myself!

I should have left him on the street! On the street I tell Ya! You wouldn't believe how many times I said that to myself. But, every single time I would look at her my heart would say, "but if you did leave him on the street she wouldn't be here".

My sweet and precious baby girl came in to this world when I was only 19 years old. 19! I was ready, well at least that's what I thought. I was ready to have a baby. Finally someone to hold me and love me for who I am; no more feeling like I was all alone. Ha! I got a lot of holding alright, so much to where I wanted her to let...go. I wanted my freedom back and it had only been a few weeks since her birth. Oh, the many tears that I cried, the many "mother fuckers" that I said, the many lonely nights I laid in bed with her crying beside me because the "so called joys" of breastfeeding eluded us both, I wanted to give her back. I found out the hard way that I really wasn't ready!

The truth was that I was a scared, hot-headed, fiesty, little girl who wanted and needed her own Mommy but played a major role in helping to destroy that relationship. Now was the time I needed her the most and she was no where to be found even though we were living in the same house. Many nights I laid there wondering if she even heard our cries, if she even cared. How was I going to be "Mother" of a new baby if I didn't have a "Mother" myself? How was I going to show my baby girl love if I didn't know how to love myself? How was I going to raise my baby girl (in my parents house) when I was a baby girl myself? Back then I didn't have the answers to those questions at all, in fact, I don't even remember thinking about those questions prior to her birth, at all. The questions that rolled around in my head were, "Who was she gonna look like?"; "What was I going to dress her in each day of the week?"; "Does this mean that I'm grown now and no body can tell me what to do with myself and her?" As I write this a little giggle just came from my womb. I'm smiling because I can see me back then and writing this makes me want to wrap my arms so tightly around her and love on her til she says stop. If only I can turn back time.

I was 17 when I met him. I met him literally on the street hurled over, throwing up all over the place because he had a hangover from partying the night before. I couldn't see his face really good but from what I could see, he was a little cute. Truth is, I felt sorry for him and the nurturer that I am wanted to help. I wanted to lift him up from the curb and nurse him back to health. Even at 17, I was aware of my nurturing ability and what that meant to those who knew me. I jumped on opportunities to save people from their destruction, but wasn't strong enough to not let their destruction become my own.

In more ways than one, that became the catalyst to many a'hard times for me; and this was one. That day I was hanging out with my "so called friend", who took me to meet him at his Mother's house where he'd been living his entire life. He was an only child and she was single for most of her life. They were inseparable and dependent on each other in many ways, some of those ways effected our relationship deeply. (Now looking back, I can see that there was always going to be me, him and her in every decision we made. My dream of starting a little family slowly dwindled away in every way possible but I didn't want to accept it. I was given insight but acted like I didn't see it.) I'm sure that first day on the curb he didn't want to meet me like that but then again he might have thought there was something Manly attractive about it. Having a hang over meant that you were drinking, and drinking is what the big boys did...I guess?

We talked for a while, about pretty much nothing. This was his "trying to impress me moment" which he wasn't doing a very good job at it. But I let him talk and think he was impressing me all the while saying "I can't wait to get the fuck out of here and away from this mess. I was not even trying to hear it. He was not gonna get in my pants, shit.... in his last right mind!! I was too cute for this joker!" LOL! So why is it that this would be the very joker that got in my pants and planted his seed so well that I ended up pregnant? Whatever game he was talking that I thought was going in one ear and out the next, stayed right in the middle of my head and heart and all I can say is, "He got me!"


"Push, Push, Push"! That's all everyone in the room was yelling at me. PUSH! I wanted to yell back at them so bad and say, "You PUSH Damnit!!" I was sweating, panting, crying, I wanted to go home and forget that this was really happening, that I was really there. That day in January, 1995 (Yes, 14 years ago) was my introduction to the not so pretty side of having a baby. I wanted my money back! This shit was for the birds and I ain't tweety! I was so mad! It hurt like hell and I was, in no way prepared for THAT! All the breathing techniques I learned in Lamas class went out the window. I was blowing alright, you could see it from the steam that was coming out my eyes, ears and head. At one point (me being the stubborn, strong headed girl that I was) I said, "NO, I ain't pushing no more" and I just laid there and blocked everyone out. Now it was their turn to get mad at me but that was the last thing on my mind. I laid there and said, "I'm never doing this again. I'm not having no more babies!!" I even wondered to myself if my Yoni was ever going to look and feel the same. That's when I felt a burning sensation so bad I couldn't even formulate the tears. This was the hardest thing I ever had to do and as I looked up my Mother was staring back at me. All I could think was, "Why didn't you save me from this?" "Why didn't you talk to me more, hold me more, love me more?" I wanted to disappear.

The Doctor said "PUSH"!! And, that brought me back to reality. I wanted it to be over and the only way that could happen was if I pushed and got this baby out of me. This baby, that I'd been carrying for almost 10 months, was (according to everyone of my Mother's Sister's and her) supposed to be a boy! I was all ready for a baby boy, I didn't want no girl. I loved all things boy. I had mainly all boy friends, didn't ever get along well with girls so you now I was thrilled when they used old wives tales (like the fact that I was carrying so low) and predicted I was going to have a boy. Well, that day there was no turning back, we were full speed ahead and all I had with me was that voice in my heart that kept always reminding me, in subtle ways, "I'm here and I will never let you go."So, I pushed all the way through and out came a precious, little, pale, BABY GIRL, weighing 8 lbs 3 oz, she was a big little thing! Can you imagine how pissed I was? I was devasted and closed my eyes and went to sleep.

That night she laid in her crib, sound asleep, next to my bed. I didn't know what had happened. How did we get in the room together? How did she get all wrapped up and snuggly, looking like a little teddy bear? Things just didn't happen the way I had thought. I was in pain and all alone. My Mother never came back to the hospital after that first day of pushing. The next day went by, and then the next and no Mother to come visit me and help me with caring for my new baby. No Mother to help me with the first latching on during breastfeeding, no Mother to help me go to the bathroom and hold my baby when she was crying. I knew she was disappointed but I didn't think she hated me.

There were a lot of things I would learn about my Mother after that day that helped me to understand why we were in the kind of relationship we were in but I've never and will never make excuses for her, just complete and utter allowance of Divine flow. This is what holds back the tears when I think back on times like these. I remember that voice that gave me strength when I didn't even recognize it was strength, that gave me courage when I didn't realize it was courage, that gave me confidence in my sexy when I didn't even know it was paying attention ;-) That voice has taken the place of the Mother I wish I had had and helped me to be the Mother that I am to my baby girl. When I left the hospital I was determined to do better by my baby girl, to be the Mother to her that I never had. I just didn't know how many times after that those words would bite me in the butt and hurt life like hell! It took me many, many, many years to break patterns of behavior that helped to destroy a Mother, Daughter relationship but I did it!! Thank God!!!

My life was instantly changed that day and the whole world as I knew it. It stretched me, diced me, chewed me up and spit me out in more ways than one. Had I not gone through that I wouldn't be who I am today. Had I not gone through that I wouldn't know how to Love me like I do today. I would have never learned that it takes loving me to love my baby girl, it takes loving me to love my entire family, it takes loving me to love my community and nation. I am grateful for the Love that I have for myself that I would create an experience like that, that would help me to become the woman that I am. Through the years I've learned to Love me, cherish me and appreciate what I have to offer to myself and others.

I am a creator of life! I am a joyous Being who sings praises for all experiences that I conjure up. I know my power, it runs deep. I have the courage to walk boldly in my skin and dare myself to love me. This is what I was creating 14 years ago and didn't even know it, that's how bad this chick is. I'm always setting myself up for the flow of abundance in whatever way it will come!

I'm looking forward to our journey together here on Mamasita!!

It's nice to meet you.
Love Mama SensuaLi!!

Love's Fate!

We come more into our sexual power and wisdom as we age, and I'm truly enjoying this new stage in my life.

I actually am with a partner now and I love his energy. We are very much alike; he is an Aquarius. I actually met him (Ivan) about a year ago in DC. He was visiting from Ohio for the Inauguration. We have kept in touch since and have formed a pretty close relationship. He came to visit me here in Florida last month and we had a great time together.

While I was living in Maryland, from 07 to 09 I became involved with a brother named Steve. He had a sweet spirit, was funny and really caring. But what I would come to find out was that he also had a lot of baggage from past relationships and pain that he kept buried in his heart. So, as a result something what started out sweet became difficult. When I moved to DC I had just ended a 7 year relationship with the father of my children. I had told myself that I would take my time and not get involved with anyone for a while, but that didn't last! Anyway, after about a year into my relationship with Steve, I began to feel like he and I were not compatible. He was very insecure with the fact that my ex was very involved in the lives of our girls (and still is), he wanted to rush into meeting my girls (which he didn't) and he was controlling.

Needless to say I felt like we should just be friends. And we did, however during a romantic encounter on his birthday I became pregnant. I couldn't believe it, because I was not ready at that time in my life to have another child. So the pregnancy was difficult in the first few months. I had decided that I'd be moving back to Florida to be closer to my family and Steve was not happy about that decision. Anyway, I decided that moving was in the best interest of myself and the girls and I told myself I would do the best I could for my son whether Steve came with me or not. I had a lot of family and friends supporting me throughout my pregnancy, but Steve and I were growing apart. I so wanted him to come with me to Florida, to be with me, to meet my girls that I was holding on to the relationship even though it was not a very healthy one.

In March of 09 I flew my mother up from FL to drive back down from DC with me. On the day that we were to leave I felt like something was wrong with my son and I called my doctor. She advised me to get checked out before we went on the road. An ultrasound revealed that I lost my baby boy (We named him Samuel Isaiah) I was 7 months along. We were totally devastated, I felt like I would never stop crying because it seemed so unreal! I had felt him moving just the day before and now he was gone. I thank God my mother was with me at the time and so much of my family and friends came to be by my side. Read story


On April 1st of this year, I delivered my son. He was absolutely perfect and an autopsy revealed no cause of death or congenital defects. So I knew that his little Spirit was only meant to be in our lives for 7 months. My relationship with Steve opened my eyes spiritually, and mentally but mostly spiritually. I didn't understand what was going on in the midst of losing my baby but I decided to heal myself through the use of crystals, fasting, prayer, meditation, yoga and talking about what happened. Every day is an ongoing healing process.

I feel a lot stronger and I believe I understand why I had to go through what I went through. I hadn't been intimate with Steve or anyone since January of 09 but when Ivan was here to visit, I decided that I was ready to be intimate again, a very spiritual, and loving experience it was. When I had first met him I told him I was expecting and that I was in a relationship and when I lost my baby he was so encouraging and supportive when I was grieving. We had remained friends talking once in a while, and through emails, but nothing more than friends. But since I moved to FL, I decided I wanted to get to know him better, and I 'm so attracted to his energy, Spirit and everything. I feel so free with him and I'm thankful that I got to know him because it has been so worth it.


Love,
Mama Mystic Lover

The Birth of My Unborn Child

I had him at the Washington Hospital Center in D.C. I'm not really a fan of hospitals but the care I received there was so exceptional. The doctors and nurses were by my side day and night, they consoled me, rubbed my legs, looked me in the eyes when they were talking with me. It was amazing! I had 2 Sistahs who were also mothers, and that truly helped a lot.

I would say that delivering Samuel was difficult but empowering at the same time. It was like the next stage for me in my grieving process, I had learned that he was no longer living, and my doctor told me that if I'd like to wait a few days I could. But I didn't want to wait because I knew I would not feel any more kicks, or he would not be responding to my voice like he normally did. I knew that the best thing for me was to bring his body into the world.


I was given pitocin to go into labor, and I had him vaginally. It was a very emotional experience for me and my family. My mother was present, my cousin/sister Valerie, my son's godmother Elise. It's like I knew I would not hear him cry, and there were no smiles on our faces, I will never ever forget that feeling, it was an empty feeling. When he emerged from my womb, I'll never forget all the tears that fell; how I reached out for him and told him how beautiful and perfect he was. All the little fingers and toes were there, he had a perfect little mouth, his hair had formed in waves over his wet little head; he was so precious. He looked so much like Steve. He was 3 pounds 1 ounce. I held him for a few hours, looked him over and over. Took pictures, prayed, kissed him all over, and wished so hard that God would have reconsidered.

I went through a period of being angry, because I felt like life was so unfair at that moment, especially days later when my milk came down. My breasts were so full and my baby was not here to nurse from them. I had thought about donating my milk to a bank in NC but I wasn't up to it, my emotions were just too raw!


I was given lots of little keepsakes from the hospital, a little blue box with his pictures, a journal, reading material for myself and my girls, little notes from the staff, and other things. I should also let you know that my daughters had been in Florida with their father during my pregnancy, so they knew that I was expecting a baby, but they hadn't really seen me during the later months of my pregnancy. When I lost my son, John (my daughters father) had asked me if I'd like him to fly up with the girls to be with me. I told him thank you so much for offering, but I told him no thank you. I just needed time to let this all sink in and I knew I'd have plenty of time to talk with the girls about what happened. And we did. They drew pictures, we talked, read stories, they would hug me when I'd cry some days because I missed Samuel so much. Their energy really helped to pull me through when I felt so overcome with grief.


I have to say that I believe the Spirit of my son is slowly but surely emerging and that one day, I will be blessed again with a son or two or 3! I had a miscarriage back in 2006. John (my daughters father) and I were pregnant with our 3rd child, and I lost the baby in the first trimester. It was definitely an emotional experience and we grieved a lot. I don't know what the sex was of my baby at that time but I believe it was a boy.

And now recently I just lost Samuel.

These experiences have made me so much stronger as a woman, a mother and a Doula. I don't take life for granted. Writing this letter back to you and reading your blog about your son did bring some tears to my eyes, but that’s okay! Not a day goes by that I don't think about my son.

I read and write in my journal from time to time that I dedicated to Samuel and my memories of him. We were so connected during my pregnancy! My mother and I talked about him, and how much we love him. Sometimes, I can't even believe that I went through such an experience, it seems like a dream, but I did and I'm here going on.


Love,
Mama Mystic Lover

An Angel Has Fallen Asleep!

He laid his little head on my left thigh. His eyes slowly closed as the look of an angel appeared on his face. I gently rubbed his back, his shoulders, his neck, his face, his head. He loves me to massage his thin little body. My hands gently stroking his long legs and slender arms, reaching over his two little buns, seeing how he will grow in to a strong, tall man some day.

Tears flow down my eyes, a drop falls on the soft brown skin of his face. I rub it into his forehead and his cheeks. I love my baby so much. He looks so healthy, so much more than before. I’ve kept him with me now giving him fewer and fewer times with his dad. For so long, proven over and over, I would see the look in my child's eyes every time her came back to me from his father. Is my son dying, I’d wonder? The life force in him was diminishing every time he returned from being around his father. Too much for me to swallow I would always move away from those thoughts, I would even force them out of my way because they were too hard for me to take. I just didn't want to believe it. I was in denial. It was easier for me to be blind.

One day during the summer of this year (09) I received a reading from a lady via telephone. We still have not met in person. In the reading she tells me that my son needs a lot of hugs and touch and that he will do well. Just give them to him she said. Lots of them. Today, I know it is true and I honor those words. His favorite request is “Mommy please massage me.” He asks me this almost everyday before going to bed at night. Now I make sure I give him plenty of touch. We both need it. We both are creatures of comfort, thriving on the magnetic power and healing force of touch. We’re both very affectionate. We’re both huggy, kissy kind of beings that are so perfect for each other. My son chose me well and I him. Oh, how I love him so.

After my son was born, I attended and graduated from massage school. I spent 18 months learning, appreciating and cultivating a growing respect and value for the human body. I am still amazed at the power of the body and what it takes on and is capable of, the depth and magic of our sensuality and our sexual energies. Healing touch is natural for me. I was so adept at it that I was massaging others for money from the first semester of my training. And I worked with and did exchange work with my teachers. But the modest little person in me would blow it off and was not able to see the power in me. I still don't have my license, but I know the power of my healing gifts and no standardized test can measure my worth. I do body work on those who I know and I will never stop doing it. I took the test for my license and failed. But make no mistake, I have not failed in being one of the best massage therapists there is.

When my son was an infant, I took a baby massage course. Thereafter, I’d massage him every single evening after his bath. It was our ritual. I learned how to do an abdominal massage that would carve out the words “I love you” on his tummy. The flow moved in harmony with the ascending and descending colon. Every now and then I still do the “I love you” massage technique on his tummy while saying the words out loud...III LOOOVE YOUUUU!



Why didn’t I teach other mamas to massage their babies? Perhaps it is to come in my future. Today, I have two girlfriends that have just had babies. I want to, I would love to teach them how to massage their babies. In fact, I’ve offered to them and to others on numerous occasions, but what I find is that they don’t’ take it seriously. And I know better than to force the idea on them. I know better than to force them see how important, how powerful, how necessary it is for them to learn how to give healing loving touch to their baby and how it will strengthen their bond forever and how beautifully and mutually beneficial it is. They are not taught that in their pregnancy months and moments. And a woman will listen to and believe everything their doctor or health care provider tells them, even when most of it is not true. I am not raising my child that way. I am his doctor. I am the one who knows and understands his body. And he knows it too. On the forms at his school, I am declared his doctor. I am his first physician.


When a mother follows her intuition, when she follows her heart, her children have a chance to really live, to thrive and to be who they genuinely are, they are able to share the gifts they came to share with the world. That’s our role. To bring those qualities out, to support and nurture and listen to our children not just with our ears but also with our hearts and with our whole body. To hear their cry in moments of confusion, to listen even when even mama doesn’t want to be bothered or when mama is too tired. To deeply listen when they are not with them, especially when we are apart. For I can still hear my child; his vibrations, his heart resonates and beats through my body, my energy field, and my heart. That’s why when something is wrong with him, I feel it, I know it, and I hear it from within me.




Love,
Mama Isis

The Journey After Conception

My journey to motherhood was filled with moments of joy as well as strange happenings that left my heart seized and under the gun. A lot of things took place that I had not dreamed of or planned for. Ever look at your life and wonder how you got into the spot you found yourself in? What ever happened to what I hoped for and imagine. Well, this is a perfect case of a force being in the pilot seat other than self. I made the decision to marry a man that I would not otherwise have married at all. I always say, had I looked down at his feet, I would have gracefully backed down. Yes, a man's feet or the shoes he wears tells the story of his life. Oh, he was a charmer, sexy and good and even nice in many ways. It all happened so fast. I met him out that night in a bar like setting and took him home with me. We had great sex and it never ended there. He would come see me day after day, night after night. He bought me furniture to support my efforts to build my home business. He would come by and cook frequently. He would check out my car and fix the little things around that were broken. But not without a price that would be revealed down the line.

The relationship stripped part of my soul and left my heart shattered and confused. I slowly lost contact with my friends both male and female. The last was a co-worker who was appalled by the telephone treatment he'd give her. And it is almost 13 years later and I am still dealing with the karmic dust that has not yet settled but continues to stir up in my eyes leaving me in a daze that has me extending my hands out to find my way through the dark. I am not the same today. Many wonderful changes have happened in my life. I've had a few successes and milestones of achievement. Yet, I still haven't met or found another man to have a long term relationship with. I still continue to deal with him and make attempts to relate to and with him as my son’s father. But the wall keeps tumbling down right after I see the writing on it. I feel like a basket case, like I keep going down this dead end road over and over. It is so difficult when two people who share a child differ in values and principles, it’s like the clash of the titans. Yet he continues to be a part of my son's life but void of quality and consciousness.


We need to move on with our lives. Those words I've sung and chanted for over a decade. My son is now 11 years old. So why do I still find myself in bondage by the chains of the past as Africans living in America still are totally unfree from their past? There was almost an entire year when he was out of touch, no where to be found because I chose it that way and he gladly complied. It was the most peaceful year for my son and I. There were no drama, no clashes, no nasty hissing or refusals and resistances. We were at peace. I pray for those moments again. But he is like a shadow that keeps following me, following us. Why can’t I get over the fact that I walked down a path that was dirty, muddy and not as beautiful as I would have liked it to be? Why don’t I have the strength as many other mothers do to say fuck it, I can make it on my own. I admire Mothers who have that ability to move on and settle down with a more desirable and capable partner! I am not for a mother raising a child without a father and perhaps that has been one of the underlying causes why I've not pushed and implemented that idea of vanishing. So what are these shackles that keeps putting weight on my legs and heart making it a constant struggle to move on? Will someone please tell me. Help me understand.

My role as a mother has been the most challenging and yet the most healing and rewarding experience in this lifetime. It has taken me up the river and down the creek and I still am happy to be a mother. It is the relationship that shows me divine, unconditional love and to that I am grateful. It brings out my best and sometimes, sadly my worst. But the light always outweighs the darkness. Sometimes I wonder is it the relationship with my biological mother – void of the nurturance and support that my inner child needed but did not get - that keeps me yearning for such through the reversal roles? Could it be that my heart still has a hole in it from the original mother child relationship in which I was in the role as child and not mother? Could it be that the abuse I constantly received from my mother has become second nature through my patterns of self-abuse? She would point her fingers at me and swear wishing me a not so happy life when I become a mother; and my mother dearest never spoke a kind word of my biological father. Words are so powerful. They can make you or break you.

I have taken other roads, written about so many other subjects and ideas yet it took me this long to write about my own journey and experience as a mother. I have gotten many signs and messages that points in the direction of children – working with them as a part of my career. Yet I saw and moved on engaging myself in other things.

Today, I am an unsettled mother of a now middle school child and I carry that shame, that guilt that makes me feel that I should have been someplace else today, happily married and settled down with a new family; I still struggle with the guilt that says I’ve been so trapped in the past that I forgot to live in the moment. I used to be a bubbly bright and happy person. Stubbornness has prevailed leaving me out in the cold on many occasions and feeling brittle, helpless and homeless. My child deserves better! But that’s my personal, heart felt story.

On the outside, many say I am a great mother, that the relationship between my son and I are unique and beautiful, that they see so much love between us. They say you are doing such a wonderful job raising your son. Well, then why is it that I can’t get paid for this job? Is raising a child or family truly a job? Or is it a choice and a creative field in which one has the power to carve, create and manifest? Then I am stepping on a higher ground – facing the truth that is so deeply rooted in me, opening and finding my heart once again so that I can go on being the mother that I am proud of. If I've begun this blog then it means there is hope for a brand new day and a sparkling new way of living. I need to wake up to look in the eyes of a son that is still a happy child. I need my child to look back with good memories and not the trauma that he has absorbed from the dramatic moments between this mother and dad.

I choose to remain anonymous because names do not matter here. What matters here is my heart and it needs to be re-opened, to live and love again. I think I forgot how to love. I hope that through this blog I can understand and master the lessons that I seem to have not quite learned completely so that I can rise up and truly live.
You are welcome to take this journey with me. If you are a mother, perhaps you share my world, if you are a father perhaps you understand and feel me. It is always nice to have others along the way. For I have never felt so lonely in my life until I became a mother. The only best company I've had has been my son, but it is healthy that I cultivate other relationships.

Love,
Mama Isis

The First Conception

 
Let me begin with the first attempt at the conception of a child. A little over three months into my pregnancy, I laid in bed with excruciating pain in my lower abdominal area that took me to the emergency room. As I look back, I can see how this devastating loss was a hint to the wild, crazy and detrimental existence that would follow if I chose to create a child with the man I had married. I was a fertile ground for creation but the timing was not for that of a child. God the Great Spirit had other plans for me. 

After the painful lose of a miscarriage that kept me in Columbia Hospital for women about 14 years ago, I lay in the hospital with my husband sitting by my bed side, I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. Empty, devoid of spirit while tainted with a hint of relief that our pregnancy did not go through. Yeah, I know…it’s a painful feeling to look into the eyes of a man that you married to see such emotions that only a intuitive woman so filled with feelings and power can see at that very moment. Later on it would all make sense, as I recall an angel reading from my first spiritual teacher who told me that I would get off my spiritual path but would somehow find my way back after a long trek into the dark and dangerous wilderness.

Ever married someone out of pressure and confusion? I can admit today that I did just that. And I know many men and women would be relieved at that very admission of such a big mis-take.  Yet, the creative energies between this man and I were so potent. As soon as we were sealed in wedlock I got pregnant. We came together to create all right, but there was so much confusion and irresolution that an unborn spirit could not find a place in my womb at that time.

The months following the miscarriage and hospitalization forced me into a cocoon. I was devastated, depressed and angry with myself. At that time, I didn’t know I was angry with myself. I hid my anger from myself so well.  I have this way of tucking the deep dark feeling neatly away from my own self. Mars in the 12^th house will do that to you. Down under the depths of the unconscious world I found my way back up to the surface and went on a spiritual journey of reclaiming my soul and healing my body. I headed to a yoga center in the New England area to become a certified yoga teacher.

But what happened before I left still continues to puzzle and plague me with skepticism and questions. After leaving him and attempting to move on with my life somehow he penetrated my boundaries and found his way back to me. Scared shitless that I had left him in the middle of getting his green card, he put on an act of survival that was coated with the scorpion manipulation and charm that I bought, paying a heavy price. I was still emotionally tied to this “bucker”.  I blindly gave him the keys to my place so that he would water my plants and feed my fish. Yeah right!! I was secretly and unconsciously inviting him to come let’s finish the business we started.  I wanted a child. I needed a child. And somehow it was scheduled to be with him.

When I returned after 9 days of a complete mind, body overhaul, I found that he had moved some of his things into my space and my fish and plants had died. Returning from the fresh crisp clean energies of the Berkshire Mountains, body, mind and heart open. I aligned with a newfound newness that made me pure. I was so upset at the contrast of energies I would find in my space. My room ranked with stagnant, foul and not so pleasant energies. I ordered him to pack his shit and get the fuck out. I was so so upset. I carpooled with another student whose destination was North Carolina; she would spend the night to leave first thing in the morning. It would have been worse if she had not been there. Her presence and guidance helped calm me down. At that moment, I was clear that I had made a mistake and no longer wanted to have anything to do with him. I had left him the first time and it was the right thing. I was so certain of that. Then why did I do otherwise?

A week or so later, he was back. WHY? What happened to me? Why did I let this man beast into my world again? I needed him to mate with me to bring forth a child. And we did. Somehow, I knew what I was doing. Upon returning, I kept on my spiritual path. I received my Reiki level one training and energies, I took on a new form of energy healing called Gregory. It was a modality that was powerful enough to work with HIV/AIDS patients. I was pure and so closely connected to my Godness! I came home and cleared my space, sprinkling it with love and pure divine white light, calling forth the presence of my guides. I bought three new gold fish for the energies of fertility. I placed candles all around the room, smudged it with white sage followed by sweet incense, prayed and called forth the forces of my ancestors, did my yoga keeping the energies flowing so nicely within me. That night we made love and the Angels danced around us making their and   my ancestors' presence known. They filled the room with their love. It was a safe haven that contained the portal that would allow the spirit of my son through. It was time. The divine moment had arrived and with it brought the conception of my most valued creative works. Spirit came down to the earthly bed of my womb that night. The seed of my sun was planted in me.

Love,
Mama Isis