05/30/2020
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When I see my people setting things on fire, I don’t see it through the lens of whiteness. I don’t see thugs or irrational beings. I don’t see harm.
I see ritual. I see a cleansing. I see rebirth.
Our choice of fire is far from random, it is evidence that the pain we continue to suffer has cut through bone and flesh and reached our ancestral plane. I’ve frequently and freely stated the impact of trauma does not release negative traits or coping alone; it also releases spiritual gifts and opens channels between the past, present, and future.
Malidoma Some´, author of The Healing Wisdom of Africa writes, “Fire is the original element of origin, the one that was present at the beginning.” He continues on to say, “Fire is our psyche, the spirit part of us that knows what has always been. It is our ability to act, emote, and intuit.” As I watched flames lick the remnants of the third precinct in Minneapolis, I didn’t see idle destruction. I witnessed active reclamation. I didn’t see protestors and rioters, I saw priests and shamans reminding us all that we are priests and shamans.
I wanted to be a part of this ritual, this opening of a channel and welcoming our ancestors and descendents to demand we be recognized as who we are, the original FIRE people. Keepers of the heat, born with the natural ability to absorb sun in our skin and hair with joy. As holy as trees, similarly capturing sun and transforming it into something the entire world uses to maintain its existence: LIFE ENERGY.
So I sang with them. Offered my voice, full of pain and power as the light from the fire danced on their skin. I trusted my ancestors to carry every note to every city and every black body engaged in the ritual. I swayed like the tree that I am, the trees we are. Trees on fire that never burn. What a wonder we are! How confusing this must be for those who lack ritual and vision!
We lack neither. Our ancestors are here. The ritual continues. Lift your voice and sway with us.
We choose FIRE.
