Let's MARCH into our WOMBselves

This journey within mine womb has been revealing and resilient...

Each week made mine mind and body strong. It has brought light and love from places withIN and OUT that were unknown to my own 'womb' self. 

My heart's desire is that each of you known or unknown has found strength in your weeks (weaknesses) and are ready to MARCH into the Wombman's Month with POWER and PURPOSE... 

Please join the next phase or (Trimester) TRY and MASTER ourselves even moor in the March for HERstory!

MARCHing for HERstory

Raise the Womb

RAISE the WOMB

This publication has been in mind and in the makings for 'quiet' some time. 
It is meant to RAISE the WOMB to its purpose and power.

The WOMB is a powerful creativity center and it can be raised right or wrong (not necessarily wrong but in a way that you did not intend) if you are not careful and mindful of what you feed it MENTALLY and PHYSICALLY!

Raising the WOMB is a delicate process but a rewarding progress. 

Raising the WOMB is an honor and what's so special in raising a WOMB is anyone can do it... WOMBman, Man, or Child! 

Yes, the WOMB is within the WOMBman but it belongs (naturally) to the village. 
Thus, it takes a village to raise a child... 

HOW TO RAISE SONS AND DAUGHTERS!

Now, please do not mis-take that notion as negative. It does not denote that you are the village's property but rather the village's PRIZE POSSESSION....

A PRIZE POSSESSION is a gift, a divine ASsET, and a reward!

A PRIZE POSSESSION is an OUTstanding honor... Although, the WOMB is withIN it STANDS OUT in the village (especially, when it is carrying a child) 

A PRIZE POSSESSION is a rewarding title, literally!

With that being stated, we (Women Especially) must be the first to RAISE our WOMBS. We must not allow chaos to control, dominate, or overshadow our love and light. Neither, shall we disallow love and light to enter our WOMBS!

We must become one with our WOMBS and the village that surrounds it. The people, places, and things (including animals) are a reflection of us in some way. Now, we are not to mis-take this as we are our village but we represent our village meaning we lead by example and follow by leading an exemplifying lifestyle that our village could and should respect and honor.

We must become better not bitter from our past or in our present matters.


Raising the WOMB is a phrase that pays much attention to the WOMBman and the village that carries the child.

In all, if we do not RAISE our WOMBS properly to their purpose and power we will FAIL our VILLAGE and in return (sankofa) our CHILDREN... ourSELVES!

How do we RAISE the WOMB?

By putting the WOMBman first, not to belittle or downplay the role or ACTion of the MAN but to strengthen the role and ACTion of the MAN.

If we put our WOMBS first...

Our children will be first and foremost

Our creativity will be heighten and our village will thrive in H.E.R. (Honorable Energetic Radiance)

Our village will be at ease and free of dis-ease

Our homes will be next to Godliness

Our plates will be filled with life and not death

Our minds will be free to seek new ideas and endeavors for our family and village as whole

RAISE the WOMB!

Every WOMBman's Journal ft. The Honorable 'Natural' Maya Angelou

In H.E.R....

Honorable 

Energetic 

Radiant

'Natural State'

In ALL WAYS a WOMBman

In my young years I took pride in the fact that luck was called a lady. In fact, there were so few public acknowledgments of the female presence that I felt personally honored whenever nature and large ships were referred to as feminine. But as I matured, I began to resent being considered a sister to a changeling as fickle as luck, as aloof as an ocean, and as frivolous as nature. The phrase 'A woman always has the right to change her mind' played so aptly into the negative image of the female that I made myself a victim to an unwavering decision. Even if I made an inane and stupid choice, I stuck by it rather than 'be like a woman and change my mind.' 

Being a woman is hard work. Not without joy and even ecstasy, but still relentless, unending work. Becoming an old female may require only being born with certain genitalia, inheriting long-living genes and the fortune not to be run over by an out-of-control truck, but to become and remain a woman command the existence and employment of genius. 

The woman who survives intact and happy must be at once tender and tough. She must have convinced herself, or be in the unending process of convincing herself, that she, her values, and her choices are important. In a time a nd world where males hold sway and control, the pressure upon women to yield their rights-of-way is tremendous. And it is under those very circumstances that the woman's toughness must be in evidence. 

She must resist considering herself a lesser version of her male counterpart. She is not a sculptress, poetess, authoress, Jewess, Negress, or even (now rare) in university parlance a rectoress. If she is the thing, then for her own sense of self and for the education of the ill-informed she must insist with rectitude in being the thing and in being called the thing. 

A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but a woman called by a devaluing name will only be weakened by the misnomer. She will need to prize her tenderness and be able to display it at appropriate times in order to prevent toughness from gaining total authority and to avoid becoming a mirror image of those men who value power above life, and control over love. 

It is imperative that a woman keep her sense of humor intact and at the ready. She must see, even if only in secret, that she is the funniest, looniest woman in her world, which she should also see as being the most absurd world of all times. It has been said that laughter is therapeutic and amiability lengthens the life span. Women should be tough, tender, laugh as much as possible, and live long lives. The struggle for equality continues unabated, and the woman warrior who is armed with wit and courage will be among the first to celebrate victory.
~Maya Angelou

WOMBman Work

I've got the children to tend 

The clothes to mend 

The floor to mop 

The food to shop 

Then the chicken to fry 

The baby to dry 

I got company to feed 

The garden to weed 

I've got shirts to press 

The tots to dress 

The can to be cut 

I gotta clean up this hut 

Then see about the sick 

And the cotton to pick. 

Shine on me, sunshine 

Rain on me, rain 

Fall softly, dewdrops 

And cool my brow again. 

Storm, blow me from here 

With your fiercest wind 

Let me float across the sky 

'Til I can rest again. 

Fall gently, snowflakes 

Cover me with white 

Cold icy kisses and 

Let me rest tonight. 

Sun, rain, curving sky 

Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone 

Star shine, moon glow 

You're all that I can call my own.

~Maya Angelou

Our GRANDMothers

She lay, skin down in the moist dirt,

the canebrake rustling 
with the whispers of leaves, and 

loud longing of hounds and 

the ransack of hunters crackling the near 

branches. 

She muttered, lifting her head a nod toward

freedom, 

I shall not, I shall not be moved. 

She gathered her babies,

their tears slick as oil on black faces, 

their young eyes canvassing mornings of madness. 

Momma, is Master going to sell you 

from us tomorrow? 

Yes.

Unless you keep walking more 

and talking less. 

Yes. 

Unless the keeper of our lives 

releases me from all commandments. 

Yes. 

And your lives, 

never mine to live, 

will be executed upon the killing floor of 

innocents. 

Unless you match my heart and words, 

saying with me, 

I shall not be moved. 

In Virginia tobacco fields,

leaning into the curve 

of Steinway 

pianos, along Arkansas roads, 

in the red hills of Georgia, 

into the palms of her chained hands, she 

cried against calamity, 

You have tried to destroy me 

and though I perish daily, 

I shall not be moved

Her universe, often

summarized into one black body 

falling finally from the tree to her feet, 

made her cry each time into a new voice. 

All my past hastens to defeat, 

and strangers claim the glory of my love, 

Iniquity has bound me to his bed. 

yet, I must not be moved.

She heard the names,

swirling ribbons in the wind of history: 

nigger, nigger bitch, heifer, 

mammy, property, creature, ape, baboon, 

whore, hot tail, thing, it. 

She said, But my description cannot 

fit your tongue, for 

I have a certain way of being in this world, 

and I shall nor, I shall nor be moved 

No angel stretched protecting wings

above the heads of her children, 

fluttering and urging the winds of reason 

into the confusions of their lives. 

The sprouted like young weeds, 

but she could not shield their growth 

from the grinding blades of ignorance, nor 

shape them into symbolic topiaries. 

She sent them away, 

underground, overland, in coaches and 

shoeless. 

When you learn, teach.

When you get, give. 

As for me, 

I shall not be moved.

She stood in midocean, seeking dry land.

She searched God's face. 

Assured, 

she placed her fire of service 

on the altar, and though 

clothed in the finery of faith, 

when she appeared at the temple door, 

no sign welcomed 

Black Grandmother, Enter here. 

Into the crashing sound,

into wickedness, she cried, 

No one, no, nor no one million 

ones dare deny me God, I go forth 

along, and stand as ten thousand. 

The Divine upon my right

impels me to pull forever 

at the latch on Freedom's gate. 

The Holy Spirt upon my left leads my

feet without ceasing into the camp of the 

righteous and into the tents of the free. 

These momma faces, lemon-yellow, plum-purple,

honey-brown, have grimaced and twisted 

down a pyramid for years. 

She is Sheba the Sojourner, 

Harriet and Zora, 

Mary Bethune and Angela, 

Annie to Zenobia. 

She stands

before the abortion clinic, 

confounded by the lack of choices. 

In the Welfare line, 

reduced to the pity of handouts. 

Ordained in the pulpit, shielded 

by the mysteries. 

In the operating room, 

husbanding life. 

In the choir loft, 

holding God in her throat. 

On lonely street corners, 

hawking her body. 

In the classroom, loving the 

children to understanding. 

Centered on the world's stage,

she sings to her loves and beloveds, 

to her foes and detractors: 

However I am perceived and deceived, 

however my ignorance and conceits, 

lay aside your fears that I will be undone, 

for I shall not be moved.

~Maya Angelou

Womb Warrior (not Worrier)

We (Women Especially) have the responsibility and power to be free from worry. A warrior is one who is brave and experienced not only in war but in peace as well. It is the WARRIOR that brings peace in the time of war and it is the WARRIOR that brings war in the lack of peace. The WORRIER brings nothing because (in this case...) She is filled with doubt and fear. She is not at peace and she is not aware of war. The WORRIER is not experienced and lacks bravery.

Peaceful WARRIORS

War WARRIORS

 

The women we surround our 'womb' selves with is our cipher or circle...

Our WOMB Circle...

We (Woman Especially) need women that are willing to cry, laugh, sing, and dance with us through it all with love and loyalty.

This makes WARRIORS and not WORRIERS!

When you are secure, safe and satisfied with the women you have chosen and those women who have chosen you to carry love and loyalty with them in WOMB ciphers or circles... 

You become a WARRIOR and NOT WORRIER....

We become strong in our WOMBS and passionate the message each WOMB has entrusted in us

We become at ease and free from dis-ease

We become wise and well in our 'womb' selves

We become sacred and our BESt kept secret

We become powerful and full of purpose

WE BECOME WARRIORS NOT WORRIERS!

The Papayoni is full of nourishment for the WHOLE WOMB

Whispering Womb

Whispering Womb

How do we Whisper?

Speak very softly using one's breath without one's vocal cords, especially for the sake of privacy

What is a Whisper?

A soft or confidential tone of voice

What is confidential?

Indicating confidence or intimacy

shhhhhhhhh....
speak to and through your womb with confidence

Do you have a 

Whispering Womb?

Every WOMBman's Journal

Divine Greetings WOMBniverse

I COME to Y.O.U ON...

PEACE

LOVE

LIGHT

LONGEVITY

As women, we know the matters of our matters (bodies)

Well, I would like to share a journey with ALL of YOU

that reminded me of OLD times but with NEW information (wisdom) 

I survived...

As I shared in 'Every WOMBman's Journal' before moontimes, cycles, periods were the death of me until I stop DIEting and begin to live through foods and returned (sankofa) to the natural wholistic lifestyle our ancient ones inherited from the Nile Valley culture.

Needless to say, our moontimes are most definitely connected, charged or drained by the phases of the moon. 

Again, I am a witness.

Rituals and Spiritual alignment is in order during these times to strengthen and heighten our experience... 

Our Time!

It was Wednesday, it began and it traveled through the remainder of the week ending with the... 

SUPER BLOOD MOON as known as, the Wolf Moon (a Spirit animal of mine and mind) 

This connected so much for mine mind that had to share the experience or TIME with the WOMBniverse.

According to OMTimes, the significance of a SUPER BLOOD MOON eclipse or Wolf Blood Moon was/is (since it is still in passing) is its power to bring up memories, recurring dreams, and powerful emotions as well as major changes in our lives. Change can show itself in many forms. The move to a different career by choice or not, the loss of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, the move to a new home or simply the change in the weather and/or how we feel. 

With this in mind and heart, I was able to see my moontime and this moontime through. I felt all of the shifts, changes and the overpowering ego energy of the Leo, wanting to dominate my matters (body) and my mind. I felt the energy of the 'wolf' as well in my quick and firm emotional attachments but the trust of my instincts, intelligence and appetite for freedom to kept me aware and humble to my emotions but not stagnant in my emotions. It is hard sometimes to know and see yourself becoming weak and staying strong enough to recognize the weak be weak but not completely helpless. 

It takes womb wisdom in RITUALS!

It was the Light and Love of my honorable ancestor Sobonfu Some' and Forever Conscious that reminded me of ritual. The Leo Eclipse is the last in the cycle, which represents rebirth and the final release and culmination moment to all this energy, an optimal time for ritual. 

The Spirit of Intimacy: Ancient African Teachings in the Ways of Relationships refers to your relationship with your 'womb' self as well. According to Some' ritual is the call to spirit and ritual keeps order and peace within and out, grounds ourselves, and creates better communication with ourselves and others. This communication is not limited to words but actions as well and your ability to better understand the words and actions of people while being open, mindful and aware of people's words and actions; their communication with you. Likewise, your complete communication with yourself. Ritual brings spirit out of us and in to our lives again. 

The Spirit of Intimacy: Ancient African Teaching in the Ways of Relationships

As we return to our wombman's journal, I had to do a ritual to better understand what my body was seeking to convey, to better communicate with my womb. It was 'red' noise from the blood of my womb and from the blood of the moon that began to rise, merge and confuse me with memories, recurring dreams and powerful emotions that I had to WISE UP and REmember RITUAL

In the past, I have rarely and quietly spoke of my moontime experiences but this journey through WHOLISTIC WOMB WISDOM and WELLNESS brings out the WOMB in me... I can not be afraid... 

It is my WOMB a HEALING! 

~Queen Afua and Sacred Voices 

I will share with all of you the site that gave me INsight to my INside...

Leo Super Blood Moon Eclipse Ritual

This ritual is best done from January 20th- February 1st or 

on February 20th-21st, 2019

For those who know and remember, the Wise Women of our Ancient ways do not and probably will not follow the ritual provided as given (I did not but I did honor its source and I am grateful for the inspiration and motivation of ritual). This is a divine start and reflection of our ancient ways. I was in divine spirits and great energy to see Palo Santo. If you have ever been in my presence, you know my connection, honor, and love with and for Palo Santo. It is most definitely HOLY (sacred) WOOD, in all its properties. 

The following prayer was powerful and purposeful during my moontime and this moontime.

It is divine for ritual!

May it bring Y.O.U....

PEACE

LOVE

LIGHT

LONGEVITY

I honor the changes that have been made to my body, mind, and soul. I honor the changes of the season for I have really grown. I ask Mother Moon, my HIGHEST self, my angels, and my guides to lead me to my highest path so I may rise. I rise up now to all that I have become. I rise up now as strong as the Sun. I ask for guidance, I ask for peace, I ask for this next chapter to bring me release. I ask for love, I ask for money, I ask for purpose, and the courage to follow my heart; to always be guided even when in the dark. I ask for health, I ask for joy, I ask for all to be well. Body, mind, and soul hear my calls. My wish is now fulfilled.

ALL IS WELL.

ALL IS WELL.