Only Light Can Do That - Live Reading of "I Woke Up Feeling Mexican AF"

Blessings Loves!

Last night I flew into downtown Los Angeles to read my written piece selected for publication in the anthology, Only Light Can Do That, a collection of post-election short stories, poems and essays.

My pa and ma, primas, cuñada, sobrinos, hermana, hermanito and his esposa mobbed it to the Last Book Store. 

I felt held up by their love.

I read my piece with a measured cadence. 

I focused on filling the shared space with a sentiment of passion and bold truth. 

I read my last line, and the crowd roared. 

Whaaaaat!? The response was unexpected. 

I didn't know anyone there besides my familia standing on the sidelines - smiling all big. 

It was a surreal experience - and yet, everything about that moment felt completely right.

Onward and upward from here mi gente!

-Shebah 

El Poder Magnífico De Nuestras Madres - The Power of Our Mothers!

Y'all. 

Mi gente.

My people.

Today is my madre's birthday. 

My momma, Laura Selva, was born November 29th -- and what a compassionate, wise and responsible nature she has. 

How tremendous and almost unfathomable her strength, endurance and love have been.

When I think of my mother, I conjure up moments of her unshakable resolve. 

The kind of love she has within her
and her commitment to offering this special
endlessly receptive love to those who cross her path
can only be the work of a soul who has been touched
by the intricacy of lightness --
the other realms,
the higher dimensions. 

I have so many words and thoughts on this day - the day of one of my co-creators.

Mostly, I feel these infinitely deep
and textured vibrations resounding,
and then harmonizing, within me.

My mama nourished me.
She took me from the rich mud of our mother earth,
and she walked with me
 as I molded myself into the woman I am today.

Thank you for your sacrifice

Thank you for your faith

Thank you for celebrating your sensuality

Thank you for being a purposeful force to be reckoned with

Thank you for your self-evaluation

Thank you for learning to love yourself

And thank you for never giving up on Papa
(when you were told to walk away).

Thank you is so simple
but sometimes simplicity does it best -
you taught me that.

I am privileged to know you, beautiful lady.

Through lifetimes,

Andrea & Shebah

...y siempre "de la Selva"

I woke up this morning determined to be mexican af.

I woke up this morning determined to be mexican af.

I woke up this morning determined to be even more graciously, proudly, and undeniably chicana, mexicana, latin@-americana.

I washed my face, put on my black eyeliner, red lip-liner and orange lipstick.

I let my arms relax and hang without worry towards mother earth. I took a deep breath through my nose, held in my air for eight seconds and released my nervousness.

And so, we prepare for battle, metaphorically, and quite literally.

Never trip or stumble in the mind, mi gente.

We know who we are. We know that our cultural legacy runs deep. We know that our connection to our ancestors is sacred and that our spiritual relationship to this earthly dimension confuses people who are disconnected from nuestra madre tierra.

Amerikkka has shown us who their president is. As they say, when people show you who they are, believe them.

I feel for my Muslim brothers and sisters, my friends and family of the African diaspora, and those who embrace their ancestry nation wide.

I feel for all of us who are not white nationalists, for all of us who believe in multiculturalism, open-mindedness and respecting cultural differences.

I feel for people who have recently arrived in this country with the hope of achieving this illusive sham of the American dream.

I feel for us.

I will never be convinced into thinking that assimilation and the white-washing of our culture is the only way for us, and others, to feel safe.

There is nothing inherently wrong or sinister about who we are, or where we come from.

We don't have to stop extending the way we extend - opening our doors and hearts to celebrate our differences, while trusting our intuitive response to the world around us - this is what we do.

We will create our own nation within a nation.

It starts in the mind and in the heart.

You know I love you.

Today I give you love (it matters not what you give me).

There are cycles of birth and rebirth. 

Sometimes our hands reach out in love and receive nothing but cold air in return. 

All is well. 

This existence is fickle and emotional. 

The waves of our human existence can wash back onto lands of past pain unexpectedly. 

My finger tips extended out to meet softness, to meet you in the very center of your heart. 

I was not embarrassed. 

I did not care what others would say, do, or think. 

All I wanted was to meet you there, in that iridescent blue jungle of seashells, sand and iguanas. 

I wanted to pull the stardust hanging down from the mango trees and give you succulent fruit to eat. 

You were so beautiful, and you said you knew it. 

Behind your eyes, your spirit trembled. 

You were powerful and forthright, and yet --

your declarations of self-adornment were fragile; your faith easily broken. 

Love is a salve the can heal all nervousness,

 no matter how ancient or intangible the wound. 

 Love is medicinal. Sometimes the salve is bitter, 

other times, it tastes as deep and sweet as cinnamon.

I wanted to nurture you, kiss and swirl confidence into the supple parts of your skin. 

I cannot help it, I am a child of Yemaya. 

I like the smell of the ocean and the romance that the water holds. 

Tarot Key 14: On Temperance & Guiding Our Inner-Wrath

I remember reading Audre Lorde's "Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism." This was my first introduction to anger as a state of being that was not only a natural part of the human spectrum of emotions, but an energy field that holds tremendous leveraging potential. 

If we are willing to apply a little creativity, we can harness our anger, using the intensity of our emotions as a springboard to acquire that which we truly desire.

Aaaand, trust me, honey! As a Scorpio Moon Child, you can be 300% certain that I know all about stubborn, fixed emotions and the seemingly uncontrollable downward spiral of destruction that can result when we don't oversee over primal human selves.  

We can't let physical feelings with that kind of strength invade and swell our subconscious. As sentient beings, our subconscious pull is highly potent (it's why advertising and marketing work so well) and why we are so vulnerable to the direction of our deep down, buried subliminal tides. 

Like a bull itching to be released into the ring, anger is bold, self-initiating energy, concentrated and compressed. Temperance, or Key 14 in the Tarot, offers us some grounded insight on how to best channel our anger. 

The fiery and sometimes impulsive leadership qualities of the 1 unite with the practical and methodical nature of the 4, calling for temperance, or, the progressive application of our anger. The key word here is self-restraint. It is recognizing our inner-wrath and tempering it, channeling the depth of our anger and setting appropriate plans to set the tone in our favor. When we are angry, one thing we have in surplus is passion (and adrenaline).  

If you've ever been tasked with the responsibility of completing a project you are less than passionate about, you're familiar with the degree to which passion acts as a catalyst to get your butt in gear and get 'er done. 

Channeling Temperance (Key 14) in the Tarot might look like consciously working with your breath as you take a brisk walk, jog or run in nature, repeating a mantra: "I am the wrath that produces the anger. I am also the wrath that controls my anger."

Remember, your anger is valuable! It means you're alive. It means you've received a message from your primal self, from your "guts." When your energy field is saturated with a force field of passion and stern anger, apply the principle of self-restraint to your feelings of wrath and you will be amazed at your level of productivity!

In Peace (& Smartly Tempered Wrath!)

Shebah 

All Your Life

#allyourlife

All your life

you have this feeling

that you are supposed to be 

be something bigger than what

and who you already are

Something major

something tangibly bright and beautiful

with enough of the right kind of rust

and ancient around your edges

to classify you as credible and timeless

by those that matter

When art moves through you

it is relentless;

you make such little sense

to the outside world

I’ve been wanting to paint lately

and I couldn’t tell you why

or recall

when the desire

came over me

but for once

I don’t care

for calculations

or re-numerations -

I do not have

nostalgic anticipation

for the humming bird workings

of my detached cerebral mass -

tootoo much

of what I’ve relied on

rests upon my neurological circuitry

I am

disconnected from the moon  

left in motion

I replay and re-preach

in ancestral disbelief

liquid seeds pocketed

underneath my sacral chakra

I am

re-awakening 

I wish it were this easy

to walk

upon creative waters

to stop

and say nothing else really matters

but my desire

and this moment

and this fire

inside my heart

that has been wanting to

keep me warm

for so long

for so long

 for too long.

In My Own Lagoon

#inmyownlagoon

              I.

I let you convince me 

that I was undefined

Day after day

I contorted my shoulders 

breathing too shallow

and growing too harsh

cultivating thorns with

razor sharp edges

unknowingly 

shielding myself

the windows in my heart

were tense and imploding 

from your intellectual surrealism
that did nothing 
but make me feel 
low 

I accepted this strange foggy love

in milligrams, in harmless 

diminutive doses -

quantities that rendered only

slightly noticeable bruises

it was a slow, drawn-out demolition

room by room, just some small excavations

anthropological examinations

of my inner-soul-spaces

Day by day 

I rounded in my spine

to fit into the neat,

unsmudged and

up-up-up on the shelf

idealized boxes 

you virtuously

constructed 

on my behalf.

  II. 

One ordinary Sunday

my whole body woke up

I clicked out of this crisp,

unstained and foreign place

 I studied the quality of the brightness

behind my very own eyes

I’d lost my bustling,

playful and roaring light 

Infatuated with your refinement

I built you a state of the art,

post-modern style pedestal in my heart

(only the absolute best for you, darling).

I’d think:

I could never be that high class

I could never walk with that kind of awareness 

And I was right

I could never be

the kinds of things

you hierarchicalised as refined

because I could never be you 

I am asymmetrical  

the lines within my mind are

naturally off-center, bold and abstract

they bend where logic says they shouldn't

and the same complexity 

you tried so hard to simplify

is what gave me that off-beat glow 

you said you loved

III. 

Time passed 

and I bore a sadness so deep,

a sadness that self-punishingly

longed for your critique

It was the ambitious side of me

intermingled with a hazardous 
brand of nostalgia that I'd inherited from 
my father and my great uncle

(they were poets, too.)

I became tangled  

believing and feeling

that love was by nature

an endless pursuit of seeking

to please a lover

who could never be pleased

a distorted love

that kept me tired

on my tippy toes

a distorted love

I’d grown to know 

IV.

I am 

my old self again

determined to chart my growth

though satisfied

with the colors, textures and shapes

with which I was encoded

since before you

since before here

since before I met me  

I am 

occupying my own space

passing time underneath

sweet mantras mouthed

from self-affirming lips,

ever-shaded by 

cinnamon coconut trees

dipping in and out

of my moonlit lagoon 

I am

safe and forever invited

into the rooms 

of my own starry mind