Heritage Day

1

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

Druidry and Prayer – A Review

2

It is just before midnight in a small, stuffy, but comfortable enough room to feel like home and I certainly am not fully aware of what I am writing; I find this is the best time to actually take it on. In my previous blog post: Experiencing The Storm I had only begun reading a book which in a matter of moments helped change my outlook on life.
I wanted to write the review in a formal manner, I  was going to research and practice until I felt I knew how best to write this (as if any formality or craftsmanship could ever do this piece justice).
When it comes to Nimue Brown’s work (the bits I have  been fortunate enough to read) I feel like a sort of groupie, never having anything but amazing things to not only say, but also feel.

‘Hello! Would it be so wrong of me to say, that I dislike religion to such an extent that I get nauseous just reading the word?’

Druidry and Prayer is not a self help book (because I cannot stomach those)… neither is it your conventional guide to being spiritual (those taste like cardboard in my mind) – it is the calming tablet for an uneasy mind…

The uneasy mind which loses sleep more often than not, because the ignorance of the world and its politics drives it to a point of maddening anger; because life is shit and there definitely would be no comfort in performing a mindless hand-me-down ritual of a religion that is filthier than the most neglected sewerage place thingy.

What I appreciate most about this book is that right in the beginning we are soothed and our doubts as to, whether or not we made a mistake opening the book  are erased as we are taken through the context of otherwise sickening words… for example,
‘ Religion: For me a religion is a formal and proscribed social structure with functions that can be understood entirely in social and psychological terms. ‘
Had this not been part of the book, I probably would have not carried on much further with it.
‘Talking about Gods’ in itself helps broaden your perspective and prepares you for an easy to swallow reality check.

I could ramble on about all the bits of the book that resonated and the bits I am certain will have an effect on any and every person who does read it all the way through, but why spoil this magical journey for the rest of you?

‘Dear whatever is out there, I climbed out of my self made grave because you threw at me a thing I would have never imagined could exist.’

Let’s forget all we have been spoon-fed, let’s work on the magic within ourselves and in the process empower those around us who need it most.

If there is one book I would say is a necessity to have read; Druidry and Prayer by Nimue Brown would be it. I’d have someone read it to me when the time comes and I begin chasing the white light – really… I would.