Saturday nights border town blues

thinking about my day and wondering how liberating does it really feel?

im writing in blocks right now and writing blocks are a lot like constipation.

i am also still processing the passing of some great women who taught me much about myself especially while it is still Womens Herstory Month.

these women were essentially my aunties and didn’t even know it. i lamented on never getting to submit to them my manuscript.

idk if y’all can understand, but something deep inside was born because of these women. it bothers me that i won’t ever be able to thank them in this world and know it would have been such an honor.

i felt like aunty bell hooks wrote about me when i learned of her patriarchal family influences. i know now that she knew all too well what it felt like to live in a predominately patriarchal family.

idk many people who would understand or know what it’s like to come from a patriarchal family. aunty bell taught me its okay to question the insidious ways of the settler colonial corporate patriarchy. i learned from aunty bell and what she taught us all helps me today.

another passing i am still processing is the death of aunty Lee Maracle. she reminded me being a woman was one of the most blessed gifts from the ancestors and being a wife was a choice. being so young and naive when i married for the first time, i had no f***ing clue what i had done.

the other great was Aunty Huanani-Kay Trask. she taught me to question my schooling fresh out of high school when she literally showed me Indigenous feminist activism, she after all inspired Winona LaDuke. Aunty was the first Kanaka Maoli to speak truth to power. my coming of age was in the 90’s and to this day, she set the foundation of who i can only aspire to. Mahalo noi tita you were one of my greatest teachers and today our ancestor, Ahe’eeh and Imeeqis Qeci’yew’yew.

these amazing women taught me much as a womanist, but also how to self identify as an Indigenous feminist. indigenista love diaries was born of my love for them too. even when i felt like the internalized misogyny had won, their works kept me growing. can i just tell you, there were times when i would re-read their work to help ease the bs i endured? well, it’s true.

their critical scholarship helped me to understand my own childhood, and the many questions i have held inside beginning as a young adolescent, a teen, and as a young adult in my 20’s, and every decade since up to the present.

today, because of aunty bell, aunty Lee, and tita Nani i know, i am a woman through and through.

aunty bell taught me the dying patriarchy will work to remain relevant even when it’s proving to not work.

Aunty Lee taught me that somedays being a wife was an Indigenous honor and other days it was nothing more than an unwanted title and Indigenous women are not property.

Aunty Nani taught me to never fear the white settler colonial heteronormative patriarchy and to critique who upholds this narrative because Indigenous feminism is older and deeper than white feminism.

i have been processing alot during the last full moons and anticipated each release, renewal, reconnection, and relearning of how to be present. it is easier said than done and my daily practice to live one day (and step) at a time can be challenging esp with my anxiety.

i am remembering when i was wakened from a dream after a healing and physically crying. realizing that letting everything i have ever known go is harder than i understand.

this last year taught me in order for healing to occur i need to change and a new view to emerge.

i have met my demons and love them to death. literally choking them out w my self love, i put them to rest and can no longer live the way i do or thinking things will change when i don’t.

i learned i don’t want to be known as a parent, let alone an ancestor, who did not try or fight for what is the right thing to do.

it seems silly that i been reliving some of my childhood dreams and realize how it goes when it comes to love and prayers.

i remember when i used to pray for what i have today. it is why i believe in faith and put so much love into my prayers.

i remember my grandmother’s teachings. at the tender age of 19 she taught me what little i know when i went to live with her. i cherish and carry those precious memories and ancestral wisdom.

she was the one who taught me to pray. it was the first time in my life i began to hear about Dine teachings from a woman who was married off at the tender age of 13 and had her first child at the age of 14. she is why i tell my kids to wait until they are at least 30 years old to even marry or settle down to have children.

another thing i remember about what she taught me about prayers is to never harm anyone. not to send anything bad or hurtful. i believe some ppl call this “bad juju.”

you see, she is the one who taught me the fear of god, and why i think certain white ppl, aka pretendians will never understand or know the power of what it means to be Indigenous and can only resort to white ways which are inferior.

whether it was the holy people, or Diyin Dineh, or sitting in a Native American Church meeting, or praying the holy rosary, my nahlii lady taught me to never speak with darkness when praying. she instilled the fear of god and was careful to tell me of what not to do.

years later i come to understand this can also be likened to karma. when i come to live and learn my Nez Perce heritage, interestingly, i heard this same teaching in another form but in Nimiipuuneewit aka the Nimiipuu way. essentially nothing good will come of it and anything you send out or wish will come back onto you, your kids, and your grandkids. and that’s how generational curses begin, so you better don’t.

thinking back to when i became a mother, you can bet i prayed prayers of protection for my children. over the years i learned some ppl carry darkness like a sickness with them. darkness are things like jealousy, envy, greed, hate, violence, to name a few.

as a light worker, i learned some hard things along the way. as someone who lives and walks in the beauty way, darkness lurks from the other side of the rainbow.

i would much rather see goodness and light happen and to work with light to crack open someone’s shell of a life w happiness is not easy.

i am thankful for my grandmothers and to this day believe my entire life has been guided, protected, and blessed with divine intervention.

my guides and protectors are many.

today, i look at my life and see the world is a beautiful place when i seek it’s beauty. from the high mountains to the refreshing springs and fresh flowing air, i don’t miss the city life.

being born in and having lived in a city, i find it amusing when small town ppl have big city dreams yet perpetuate the same ignorance of their ancestors. believe me, the city will harden you if you don’t have the foundation and my grandmothers were mine.

the city was suffocating for me at times. i was slowly dying a spiritual death and craved something bigger than what i could comprehend.

so when i moved here to my homelands, it was the beautiful rolling green hills that opened my heart to the blue Nimiipuu skies and country roads.

from the hot jungle pavement and street signs, the signs were everywhere and there were signs and more signs when i packed my bags and went from Phoenix, Arizona all the way to Tacoma. i never knew how much i wanted to travel onto Philadelphia, Atlanta, and (back to) LA where i was born.

one thing i see on this Saturday night out in a border town, is not the city and these border town blues feel a lil better than a pavement jungle any day because it’s located on my home lands.

Categories Indigenous

1 thought on “Saturday nights border town blues

  1. Reblogged this on Dreaming the World and commented:
    I’ve been settling in to being retired. Mostly that has meant playing with a modular synthesizer, taking a few photos, and trying not to spend ALL of my time before a computer. I’m also thinking a lot these days about growing up on an Air Force base during the nuclear laden cold war – especially the Cuban Missile Crisis. It sure is uncomfortable to be back to those days, eh? Anyway, here is a very timely read from Indigenista I want to share..


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