FREEDOM IS FRAGILE: BEAUTY IN THE DARK
i was exhausted. i was unsure. i was happy. i was growing. i was healing.
i'd just completed my pilgrimage along the camino de santiago and was in desperate need of a well-earned rest. so, i spent a week washing up in an unsophisticated outdoor shower, sleeping peacefully-mere inches above the floor-on a simple mattress & sharing wall space with creepy crawlers in the hood of oporto-the beginning point of my 10 day trek. although, not the picture perfect dream of most tourists, i was able to relax, hide out in plain sight and fall in love. after regaining my strength and my willingness to begin again, i started toward fatima-the opposite direction. at the point of completion, i'd run out of money, i'd released anything and everything related to the old me, and i had only my u.s. passport to prove my identity. i showed up to the red cross in beautiful agueda-a town of less than 50,000 inhabitants-and finally stopped to comprehend the task GOD had assigned to me, my growing spiritual ascension and the chance to completely uproot my life. i'd greedily learned the portuguese greetings for morning, afternoon and night to add a personal touch to my approach and then, with nothing left to offer except my heart, i heroically fell upon my sword. i quickly realized my unplanned efforts would earn me an opportunity to receive the most selfless love i'd ever experienced. since money was no longer accessible, i had to explain my destitute circumstances through my heart-something i'd grasped along the camino-and this alone proved the superfluity of language and currency. all i wanted, after spending a week volunteering in an alburgue to pay respects to the journey itself, was to pour back into the world the good karma i'd been blessed with in portugal. a husband and wife team ensured i was fed three meals/day, that i had clean clothes & toiletries alike and shelter for the three weeks i resided in their humble town. i was fortunate and unfortunate enough to contract covid as i bid my time and during the necessary week of isolation, i was so well taken care of, one would assume my relation to this duo-family. i had to take what i'd learned-the positive affirmations, the visualization, the open heart-and aptly apply it to a very unwelcoming and stressful environment upon my return to my hometown of houston.
the u.s. leg of my unconventional path started after a 6-month stint paying off the debt i'd accrued by working in a "friends" brand-new restaurant. although, my living and working environment was alongside persons i'd once considered family-having known them since my college years-i felt out of place and as small as cinderella slaving about in her inherited family's shadow. the love of strangers in a foreign land alarmingly eclipsed the treatment i was subjected to by familial souls. i'd racked up quite the price tag via a one-way plane ticket across the atlantic plus room & board expenses, so, knowing without words-although later revealed by someone close to the pair the announcement of the service fee invisibly nestled above my head-i owed them the opportunity to take full advantage of my lonesome standing. on hands and knees, i scrubbed toilets, washed mirrors and floors, trained staff, worked unpaid overtime and speedily adapted to everyday challenges with fervor and competency for very little pay and little to no respect. i was the ideal employee-no berth to complain of my mistreatment-automatically taken advantage of. on the occasion i did stand upright, poke out my chest so to speak and demand time off, i was pressured to return with an undertone of ingratitude for their selfless sacrifice on my behalf. i didn't know what my next steps would be, but i knew i had to act fast. the tension, the control and the manipulation hit a sensitive ceiling with shattered force and i had to bravely escape a once seemingly benevolent rescue. my first stop, via greyhound by way of new york, was atlanta, ga.
two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry i could not travel both
in some spaces, i was starved for being vegan, or pescatarian, depending on the time frame. i was told to eat what was being served or to eat nothing at all. "the food is free, so." spoken with a bold shoulder shrug of indifference-is what i was told at a day shelter in massachusetts as i requested to have a plate of food commensurate to those piled high with meat and dairy concoctions. my retort, "my being vegan does not equal a child's portion of any meal." i was shooed away-literally and figuratively-as her hands swept through the air, dismissive and abusive, physically colliding like jumping high fives. i was asked to leave for the day when i repeatedly asked for a managers' presence and opinion, vehemently refusing to accept her rude behavior as appropriate. a freezer stuffed with gory old meat, loosely packaged molded bread and expired canned foods-by actual years-was my reality in a houston shelter when i verbally signed on as the in-house cook.
what's the homeless population like in your community? what's it like in your city, in your state? i'll let you in on a little secret, unless you own your land-which, according to attom data research, only 34% of american homeowners have 100% equity in their properties & 38.5% are mortgage free-you're just as homeless, just as vulnerable to the incredible mistreatment that people on the streets or living in shelters experience. these words, i do not pull from an ignorant mental space, they stem from first-hand experience, which has enabled me to see, touch, taste, hear and smell the magnitude of injustices faced by a community of people immorally suffering. the abuse offered would make the darkest soul retreat, although it is sometimes the darkest soul that administers, oversees and approves these conditions. harsh words and uninterested answers are spewed to questions or concerns asked by guests. rewards are unheard of, but the repetition of unhealthy punishments justified by a widespread lack of training, when behavior is out of the ordinary, pass from ear to ear like celebrity gossip. the backward way the government is set up to require a dependence upon them for survival jump starts a toxic, one-sided relationship. a person with no family and very few, if any, personal connections is susceptible to this less than mediocre life. one becomes so comfortable with not having to worry about the next meal or the next shower or the uncomfortable sleep on a mattress so thin you may as well tuck into the bed frame, that they subsequently institutionalize and mentally hinder their right to freedom.
i didn't set out to be a voice, let alone the voice of a marginalized group of people
in chicago, the weather was beautiful and i celebrated my birthday with slice of vegan chocolate cake on the beach. i had no idea chicago had beaches. well, i take that back, because in that one scene in 'love jones' where darius spoke of his one true love, they were sitting on the beach. my peaceful walks to the water & the bounty of waves splashing freely against rock disrobed into naked space within a fully shielded heart. i practiced yoga and meditated as often as possible. i volunteered at a farmers market and with the red cross. i walked through old neighborhoods and swooned over old homes accompanied by even older cars. there was an ease to my transition from manhattan; i found familiarity rather quickly. inside the walls of my sleeping quarters, however, when i brought up my unfortunate dilemma of routine rest without the daily dose of food consumption to the board of directors, i was asked into the main office a week later to speak with a newly hired case manager about my plans moving forward. there were current residents who'd been housed in their facility for months, some for years, but all of a sudden, the allowed capacity fell one bed short of my audacity. let's not forget the unwanted passes made at me by a female staff member. as a lifetime movie flowed across the screen & my emotions produced streaming tears, i was approached with hands atop my shoulders, in a massaging motion as a staff member leaned into me, breasts brushing across my back while deliberately invading my personal space. i jerked my body away from her grasp & looked back in disgust, expressing my desire to be left alone. in another instance of inappropriate behavior, the staff would often give opportunities to assist with meal preparation in order to keep ourselves busy, to learn and to be of service. on a day with beautiful weather and bbq out back, i offered my assistance. it was here a staff member revealed an ex-girlfriend's ties to sex trafficking through the shelters. she denied any involvement & seemed just as shocked as i. i was not fooled by her inadequate story. the one with the uncontrollable body movements came out back, while we continued cooking, and said she wished that we'd all be able to kick it outside of work. i kept my distance, carefully dodging questions of my sexuality and other distasteful incidents, from that point on.
in new orleans, i was poisoned. this weak, recurring evil transpired before i was blessed a glorious opportunity to speak with the mayor after a divinely timed speech at an essence fest panel. as i slowly made my way towards approach, with nerves threatening to shake doubt to the surface, matter-of-fact verbiage pushed through the holes allowing bubbles of hope to linger about the air. i was able to briefly communicate my challenges and auspiciously present an idea for resolution. she gave me her personal contact information and guaranteed she'd check and respond to the email she looked forward to reading. i'd already made my way to jackson, mississippi, but a response, voicing concern and abrupt research & action, arrived in my inbox within the week. i'd sang a very loud note of guests being fed bologna sandwiches every night and forced outside during summer heat with only a fan blowing hot air as consolation and sent it up the food chain to the shelter ceo. he-a gentleman of at least 6'4, who was on location most days-didn't like my bold request of proper nourishment and decided to help me understand my place. new orleans is a town drenched in ancestral energy and i knew i was surrounded, protected, by the way he zeroed in on my presence. just like in 'the golden child'-as long as the body is pure, no "dark magic" can penetrate. i had an angel suggest i discontinue eating the pb&j sandwiches they made especially for me after i clumsily mentioned my stomach pains one day. she agreed with, "yeah, we have to buy you your own peanut butter and jelly. you shouldn't have sent that letter." i hadn't mentioned to her the email i'd sent to the ceo. i hadn't mentioned it to anyone. but, my spirit guides and ancestors knew and were protecting me then just as they'd been since the beginning of this life-changing journey. the dark attempt-filled with vile intentions-was no match for the cucumber-lime concoction i drank to ease and soothe. to heal. to alchemize.
there's too many resources available to allow anyone to exist in filth
in phoenix, my second time gracing the desert heat, i finally realized the heaviness of this way of life. on my first go-round, i'd stayed with the sisters and missed out on the visual of destitute subsistence. this second spin of the wheel landed me smack-dab in the middle of a pitch black jungle sans the trees and lush green life. before i had the privilege of sleeping in the actual shelter, i was forced to sleep on a mat in a space the size of a middle school gymnasium. there was no space in between myself and my neighbor. i could hear conversations and easily smell the palpable fear & anguish. since the wake-up call was at 4am, i barely slept the entire week this manifested as my reality. the city had issued an order to clear the streets outside the shelter gates-known as 'the zone,' similar to los angeles's 'skid row'-and they were not allowing any other guests to enter the main shelter. once i made my way inside the shelter, i quickly understood why so many people opted to take their chances and sleep outside. i cried the first night, looking about the room in total disbelief. the mirrors in the bathroom were plastic and incredibly painful to digest. there was no way to clearly see one's own reflection. our identity was being slowly pulled away from us in an attempt to diminish our existence and lessen our personal value. the toilets and sinks were the same as prison; silver, steel and obvious. the shower stalls had no door and were so disgusting, i held my breath and balanced-using core strength-to wash without using the walls for support. there were holes in the ceiling and walls, making for perfect peepholes. mold and grime dominated the showers and toilet stalls. i was forced to exert boundaries upon arrival and express my dissatisfied mood, since the single sheet they offered for warmth, was unavailable. "not yet washed," the worker said when i asked for an explanation. we slept, packed like sardines, in a freezing cold dormitory & no one was allowed to bring in a personal blanket, pillow or the like unless accompanied with a doctor's note explaining our reasons for seeking human-like living conditions. the food, hella suspect and often inedible, was cooked off-site and delivered to the cafeteria next door. the volunteer hours i spent on the service line, guaranteed my vegan meal for the day-which was rice & beans, fruit and a bag of chips if i was lucky. i also volunteered for a food bank and food pantry/clothing closet while spending time at the local museum-where i learned of my native ancestry-and along different hiking trails for tranquility.
in jackson i practiced yoga in a cemetery. i know it sounds strange, but it was the most peaceful part of my day. i'd wake and make my way there 3-4/wk. one day, after weeks of harassment and stalking while i walked, a pitbull jumped off their porch to join me on my journey. this pitbull saw me most days, but i only noticed her the day before. her presence was calm and pronounced. on the day she chose to accompany me, i was nervous about welcoming this energy. pits, especially, have a bad reputation when it comes to aggression. i've never felt more safe. there was no leash, she understood everything about me, and our date unearthed a simple example of love at first sight. she found her spot in the grass next to me as i stretched & held, inhaled & exhaled and on the route back to my resting space, she dipped on a main road and left me to my independence. i volunteered in the local clothing closet, where i scored my looks and karma.
i took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference
in denver - i felt & saw my potential / i read poetry at an open mic / i felt my magnetism
in idaho falls - i was called gal more times than i could count / i experienced racism / i experienced love
in las vegas - i saw my ancestors / i volunteered in a soup kitchen
in los angeles - i screamed / i cried / i walked the night / i journeyed to lawndale to stay with the sisters / i saw hummingbirds
in long beach - i ran from predators / i barely ate / i slept on the train & bus and roamed about the night during the off hours
in portland - i had the best bud / i fell in love with the energy / i sat by the water / i cooked
in seattle - i adapted to the rain / i walked uphill / i slept on mats on the floor
in miami - i let the girls loose / i stayed with missionary of charity for the first time
in atlanta - i started / i realized i'd been blackballed from the hospitality industry / i was raped by a predator who secretly recorded our sexual encounter without my knowledge
in harlem - i was introduced to delicious vegetarian food / i volunteered / i routinely practiced my yoga
in queens - i was stalked / i was targeted / i was bullied / i was poisoned / my signature was forged on documents i refused to sign / i found delicious inexpensive asian cuisine
in manhattan - i was disgusted / i was disappointed / i slept in a lawn chair / i shared sleeping space with men / i volunteered
in providence - i was happy / i was heard / i realized the importance of speaking about the abuse / i stayed one day
in new jersey - i dont remember much / i donated to a little book library
in san antonio- i was hit on & harassed by male kitchen staff / i slept on a mat with a single sheet for warmth/ i showered in a stall with holes in the ceiling & very little water pressure / i volunteered
in houston - i was followed / i was stalked / i was discriminated against by staff / i was harassed by guests / i slept in discovery green park / i was able to cook / i witnessed a legal occult (piranhas targeting less fortunate souls) at a shelter where we were forced to attend church service as a requirement for shelter
in galveston - i was targeted / i was bullied by staff / i stayed in a domestic violence shelter where i felt the most unsafe / i was stranded
in dallas - the emergency shelter was co-ed / i stood my ground / i was sexually harassed by the male kitchen chef / i was bullied by a specific male staff when i refused his attention / i volunteered
in san francisco - i cried / i volunteered / i took an art class / i saw the effects of widespread drug use
in san diego - i danced by the water / i slowed down / i felt at peace / i volunteered
in salt lake city - i volunteered / i experienced racism & prejudice behavior in the shelter / i was alerted to human trafficking
in philadelphia - i opened my heart to love / i slept on a mat on the floor
in baltimore - i completed my first 7 day dry fast / i was bullied by shelter staff / i was forced to attend church in order to stay at the shelter
in washington d.c. - i listened / i barely slept / i was poisoned
in boston - i blossomed / i received my victory / i was silently targeted / i volunteered
i had no idea my thoughts could carry so much power; so much authority. someone has to speak about the injustice, the corruption and the lack of unity
SPEAK YOUR TRUTH
&
FREE YOUR MIND
IF YOU STAND FOR NOTHING
YOU'LL FALL FOR ANYTHING
fire fire fire next
