one woman's journey to wholeness…

Posts tagged ‘marcus garvey park’

In Memory of Joseph Koonce…My Ol’ Drumming Buddy…

8 27 2012 044

Just talked with Y

We cried  together

Our love for Joseph binds us and

Out of that love has been born

A loving connection with each other

That will not fade with the passage of time

We are bound through him

For all Eternity

8 26 2012 027

My heart is at peace

Despite the great sadness at its center

Deep loss…

My Joseph

Gone from the flesh

We shall meet again

Joseph Koonce and I…

We shall once more

“Hook-up” in the 3-D

In another Time

In another here-now…

To give each other that nudge

or shove, as the case may be

That awakens one from

The Deep Sleep:

From the fascination…mesmerization…

And glamour of  flesh-suits and  Earth life

With all of its glitz, glory, pain, joy and love…

Oh…the intensity…the ecstasy…

of the Love

We shall appear again in each other’s lives

in anther times-pace…another here-now

To press each other forward

along this remarkable journey of

Awakening 

Thank you, Joseph Koonce

My teacher and student

from 1994 to 2013–earth time

I release you back into the Loving Arms of

the Mother 

9 30 2012 034

Oh…Joe…

Just one last favor?

Now that you’re back with the Source

Or closer to It than I am–

Do you think you can send someone

To fill the hole you just left in

My heart and life?

After The Rain…Light…Understanding…

after the rain...

after the rain…

 

Instead of drumming this Saturday, I spent quiet time at my window altar–with the river.

Rising above the chatter of my “monkey brain,” I sat in the peaceful silence of my rain-washed world–listening within:

This drumming, my dear–just like the words that you write–comes through you. You, the ego-personality, are not the owner of your creative productions. The words, and sounds come through you from a Source that also determines the why, what, when, where and how of it all.

Do not attempt to order your gifts; trying to determine whence they come and go.

Life is not yours to order. It is yours to remain open, receptive and in service to That Which lies behind, beneath, above and at each side of all form. 

You are learning to understand–and more importantly–to accept and live a reality which is the only authentic Reality there is.

It is a process of opening the heart in trust and releasing the pain you did not know was there.

It is truly living from the inside out: letting your 3-D world unfold in, as and through you; bypassing the ego.

It is not the human way  of being. 

It is a process of “un-conditioning” the mind.

Have patience with yourself.

I am with you.

We are with you.

Drum Slut Rising…

rising...rising...ever rising...

rising…rising…ever rising…

Drum Slut rising

stretching awake after a long winter’s sleep…

The drumbeat

stirring

within

Her

Loins…

Rising…

Rising…

Drum Slut rising…

Arms stretched to the sky

in homage to the Sun‘s

greening of the land…

Flowers…

Birdsong…

prelude to

summer’s heat

and

the

throbbing

pulsating

beat

of

the

drums

calling to

Drum Slut…

Slumber’s end…

Awaken…

Arise…

On Death…Dying…Souls Leaving Without Saying Good-bye…Tears…Laughter and Drumming For My Life In Marcus Garvey Park…

souls leaving without saying good-bye…

Spoke to my old college buddy, M., this morning.

Her husband, C., keeled over and died in the middle of their conversation

in their hotel room

in Atlantic City

Friday morning.

There he was one minute yammering away

and then he was gone

in

a

split

second.

M. was asking him from the bathroom,

having just gotten out of the shower herself,

if he was going to shower next or

wait until morning?

“Now.” He answers her. “I can smell myself.”

Then...thud

She hears what sounds like something dropping on the floor

in the next room.

And sure enough…

something had dropped on the floor…

her husband.

He was stone, cold dead.

That makes me weep.

I weep not

for my friend, M.

nor for her husband, C.

I weep because life is so fragile…

so temporary…

so uncertain.

As I sit here at my window altar

writing these words,

I have no way of knowing if they will be my last

and if in a week or so

my daughter will  be using her

emergency key to enter my apartment

to dispose of my rotting, stinking body

after my soul had up and decided to leave today

without even saying good-bye.

That thought makes makes me laugh…

And think.

And I am then filled with gratitude

another beautiful day of life…

for having left this apartment yesterday

to meet up with my Sister Drum Slut, Y.

in Marcus Garvey Park

where I drummed my ass off

along with a handful of diehard drummers

squeezing in as much drumming as we can

before fall turns to winter

and it’s just too damn cold

to sit out there in the park

drumming for hours as if

our lives depended upon it.

And they do…

our lives…

depend upon it…

at least mine does…

We drummed as if our spirits

would up and leave

without

saying

good-bye…

if we didn’t drum for our lives…

Drumming in Marcus Garvey Park…

And yesterday…Saturday

after the gift of Friday with K. in Central Park

came the ecstasy of drumming in

Marcus Garvey Park

A Holy Circle of

modern-day santeros, babalawos, curanderas

women, men and children

who are called by

the Spirit of the Drum

Grandfather blessing my drum…

Gathering weekly to pay homage

to the Motherland: Africa

Lending body, mind and soul

as vehicles upon which the Orishas may ride…

Giving oneself up as intermediary

between the two worlds

vessels to be filled with the

Voice of Drum Spirit…

Holy Rhythms of Healing and Love

rippling out from the village of Harlem

in never ending circles…

through the city…

the nation…

the world…

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