the Gangsta and the Butterfly

I invite the darkest parts of myself into light filled spaces.

We need each other.

my Rich homie

My rich homie lets me borrow his Beamer sometimes.

“Put it in Sport mode,” he says.

I never have.

I glide down highways slowly.

He works a lot,

and we all wish we saw him more—

I wish he saw himself more.

I’ve known him a long time.

Pretty much,

he’s always been rich—

though he doesn’t see it that way.

If he fucks with you,

he’ll tell you the hard truth

about anything you ask.

With me,

sometimes it’s unsolicited.

Our other homie once repeated

something he said

about me

and my job at the time:

“They don’t value her—

and she needs to value herself more.”

That was the gist.

I was pissed.

So pissed.

Then I sat with it.

Picked apart all the reasons

I was upset.

And it was true.

The time had come

for me to reassess

my value.

My rich homie’s truth

can triple salaries.

I’ve seen it.

Makes me believe

even more

that wealth

is internal.

There’s nuance, though.

Always.

Is wealth something

given by God?

Is it our birthright?

Where does it start?

Can you build it?

Or are you

just making visible

what already existed

for you?

What is wealth?

Is it time?

Is it money?

Is it people?

Is it time

to spend the money

with the people?

What is wealth?

What is rich?

Is it a feeling?

Is it worth it?

I’m most certainly

still figuring wealth

and riches out—

and I think

I always will be.

What I do know

is gratitude

makes me feel wealthy.

Thank you, my God.

Thank you.

My rich homie

lets me borrow his Beamer sometimes.

“Put it in Sport mode,” he says.

And maybe,

I will

next time.

Just for July

Good grief—it’s already July?

Have your dreams been as vivid as mine?

Are you remembering what you thought you forgot?

Are you nurturing those unhinged parts of yourself that need love and attention just like the rest of you?

Are you staying open?

Are you letting go?

Are you?

Yeah. It’s already July—sheesh, and good grief.

Processing good grief.

Vivid dreams, whose meanings rarely elude me, tell stories of what is, what was, and what could be.

Sometimes I remember—and then I forget again.

And it’s okay to remember and to forget.

Oh, those unhinged parts—

I let them swing sideways in the winds of my love

As I view them from perspectives that heal and realign.

It’s okay, remember?

You’re okay, remember?

I whisper this to those unhinged parts,

And slowly, they realign in divine time.

I’m staying open—as much as I can.

It makes the letting go easier.

I am.

Good grief—it’s already July.

Me

She tells me that I am
a disruptor,
a leader.
I check my own apprehension to believe and receive this message.
It is my intention and hope that my disruptive vibration is a lightning crack, burning down the bullshit,
shattering glass houses and glass ceilings.
Though I won’t,
I can’t,
do it alone.
So little by little, my ancestors gather the elements.
But first, they gather me,
reminding me and teaching me in various ways that I must go first.
These days I sit in solitude and
move in silence,
listening deeply with trust.
Grounded feet and well-stretched hips,
I find my rhythm and flow within community.
In and out,
feeling all the emotions that wash over me,
woosh,
baptized by my own self-awareness,
splash,
supported by human beings who believe so much in themselves they have belief left over for me.
Thank you.
I am many things and nothing.
Among them,
I am a leader and a disruptor,
unique in my ways,
gathering the elements before the lightning crack signifying the coming of a storm that will never let up.

Author’s Note: You cannot stop what God has put in motion—and if you try, there will be hell to pay. Thank you to my shooters. I owe you many things. Blessings,
T.

https://music.apple.com/us/album/the-man-who-sold-the-world/1559071750?i=1559071762

Here’s to LOVE

Happy New Year – or as my Earth angel says Happy Now Here.

May God hear, bless, and amplify your intentions to the highest good.

I have been in a season of silence. A lot of listening and engaging with folks who love me as is, people who see me. Thank you and I see you all too. Connecting with people who speak to me in ways that amplify my journey and brighten my light has been transformative. It is healing and I am deeply grateful.

Cultivating an understating of what love is makes it easier to identify where it isn’t- who it isn’t and what it isn’t. Love does not always come from the places you think it will or from who you expect it. I have had to sit with that- the dark and light of knowing that you must go where the love is. Love of self and self reflection make the awareness of the hard truths of love and life easier to process. I know where to go to get the real good shit- that gooood love and I know where not to go as well. Balance. It is what it is.

I start with God’s love and self love.

So here’s to a year of more love – that good good – that we communicate well, show up show out love – that responsive let’s go get a coffee love, that we booked our tickets love, that belly laugh for ten minutes love, that gentle correction love, that knowledge sharing love, that whatchu reading love, that let’s go for a walk love, that 5 hour conversation love, that I love yo style love, that yassss love, that long hug love, that it’s okay to cry for a moment love, that sitting in beautiful silence love, that ancestor love, that we don’t raise our voices love, that we call each other babe not bitch love, that God love, that say it to your face love, that respectful love, that anti-materialism love, that disagree, talk it out, and elevate love, that pull up on Saturdays via Zoom love, that praying for you love, that thankful love, that healing deep love.

Here’s to love – infinitely and long past 2023.

Happy Now Here.