What’s new? What’s not new?
Where should I begin?
No-no, where should I continue?
First an apology to those who’ve supported this blog from the beginning for taking so long to continue in sharing with you this written journey of mine. To those who have just recently come along with me, you are most welcomed. I hope something that I have written or will write will bless you in some way. Whether it be a giggle to a full chuckle, a sense of feeling someone else out there understands and has been where you are or getting the courage to …(fill in the blank) I truly hope I can be instrumental in that for you.
It’s late in the year 2020, at least at the initial drafting of this post. I find myself living in unfamiliar but oh so familiar surroundings. I am among strangers who are family in some way or another. I eat foods foreign to my tongue but known to my palate. I am embracing the mountains, trees, plants, and animals. I am being kissed regularly on my melanin skin by the dancing rays of the sun. I am home. I am home again. My new home that always has been. I and what is of me now reside in Africa.
Tanzania, Africa to be exact and living in the truest sense of the word. My family has grown with our newest addition, Journey Anthony Gordon, having been delivered to us back in late March.
This life continues to amaze. The adventure of a lifetime is life itself.
The decision to relocate wasn’t difficult. It was quite easy if I’m honest. The heartbreak of leaving those behind held dear was really the most meaningful hurdle to jump over. And the success of jumping that hurdle brought on wonderful progression. Learning not to count on things, adapting to a life without, that part is easiest, especially since Mother Afrika has so much more to offer in exchange. We clutter. We hoard. We believe the more the happier when it comes to unnecessary materials and sometimes certain unnecessary people.
I am learning so many things even that of things I’ve kept a blind eye to. The American dream for instance stole us and our identity. It even gave us newer misleading identities. Kids with flies on their faces and popped bellies. Massive hunger. I shake my head as I recall all those commercials from back in the day. My identity. Your identity. In some cases we gave some, if not all, of that identity away freely. Like anything else that can corrupt our truest selves, such as the hustle and bustle of forever trying to make it, all be it in vain for the majority minority, living apart from such things, sets ones mind to a more peaceful path. At the root of it all, to have a peaceful life is the goal. There’s something to be said about reclaiming oneself. There’s something to be said about reclaiming oneself multiple times, no matter the manner in which it came to be. My family and I are reclaiming ourselves here on the continent. It feels good to shed.
MY THOUGHT PROCESS ABOUT IT ALL
Perhaps where we got it wrong was believing that the so called American dream was dreamt up by and for us. Perhaps there’s nothing wrong with what we believed the dream was meant to be but only what it truly is…an endless cycle of lies wrapped up in pretty truths that gradually erase us by them through us, sucking our life away slowly but surely through the foods we eat, the media we are exposed to, the fear-filled experiences of just being black, etc.. Well, that dream of family, health, wealth, happiness, and abundance is my reality. Now, it’s a working progress, just like me, lol, but its still my reality. My reality is what they attempted to sell but couldn’t and wouldn’t deliver. I am manifesting the dream and what it really was meant to be into my reality.
Does it mean it has to do with the location? I think partially. Does it mean it depends on who is dreaming the dream (or living that dream/reality)? I think partially. Does mean it has to do with the absence of understanding the true dream and what it really entails? I believe partially. There are many reasons behind why the American dream isn’t suitable for blacks long term-and I don’t claim to know them all. That’s just facts, although I’m not knocking my experiences thus far because they have benefited me in many ways.
Will I ever return? I would love to visit my family and friends left behind. That being said I will not subject my children, husband nor myself to poisons to do so. Loving from afar is underrated.
For right now I am indulging in the peace provided by the silent wisdom of the mountain across my window and whispers of secrets spreading by the dancing trees. These trees sway and shout welcome home to me and my children as they hang on strong limbs and branches older than all of us put together. I feel we have been missed. I feel welcomed. I feel a sense of pride for having returned home. Like a child lost in the deep woods, it is daybreak and I have found my way home to Mother Afrika. What’s more I am continuously and intentionally accepting my worthiness during this time. Heck, I am my own breath of fresh air as well. Maybe not always and every second but much more than days past.
What a journey life is and continues to be. Continue to follow this journey with me and feel free to share.
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Thanks for your gratitude & support, truly. paypal.me/GorettyGordon