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.