Becoming a BABY ELDER

sad-black-womanThere is nothing quite like thinking you have nothing left to live for, to re-set priorities.

I have spoken quite bit about the trauma and drama of April into May of 2017. I find myself unexpectedly looking a life that feels as foreign and strange as if I have been teleported to MARS.

My pithy but powerful motto–designed to both inspire BLESSED UNREST and to help hold perspective–has been this:

“If you have a roof over your head/a closet to put your clothes in/ and a refrigerator,  you are better off than 87% of the world’s population.

That’s a statistic from the Awakening the dreamer Symposium:

Years ago, Bill and Lynn Twist designed this powerful program, holding an expectation that Americans would awake to the hypocrisies we live with, with respect to our ecological/ environmental/ spiritually ignorant/ and social justice issues for this world.

But WE DIDN’T. And instead we elected an absolute ASSHOLE Hell bent on accelerating our downfall.

Okay. Whatever. Spirit let me experience a “fall” down to having NONE of those 13% of privileges that most AmeriKKKans enjoy. No fridge. No roof. No closet.

BUT I STILL HAD MY CAR, which probably kept me from totally imploding.

As I have said, feeling waaaay beyond “feral”…
Feeling “ROGUE”.
Below is the best definition I have found, as I continue my word-smithing and RE-FRAME/re-claim this word:
“ROGUE–an elephant or other large wild animal driven away or living apart from the herd and having savage or destructive tendencies…”
MORE background:

” Rogue, by itself, has been used to refer to an elephant that has become violent (either from being separated from their herd, or because they have been injured) since at least 1835. When ‘going rogue’ was first used it had a fairly specific meaning of ‘behaving in an erratic or dangerous fashion.”     

No one can stop me, NOW!!!

No one can stop me, NOW!!!

And, even MORE:
” Urban dictionary carries the definition of ‘GOING ROGUE’ as ‘to cease to follow orders; to act on one’s own, usually against expectation or instruction. To pursue one’s own interests.”
Yes. I would say that’s about where I have landed.   
So, look for me: working as a WWOOFA this summer/ and/ or teaching at a local community college/ and raising a RED TENT or two in Northwest Washington state/ and teaching about CANNABIS as a useful medicine (please let’s not get into the hypocrisy of tobacco and alcohol comparisons), and continuing to find ways to include more sensuality/ spirituality/ and access to information on sexuality in what we call “health care” in AmeriKKKa.
Still a Wayseer (but I don’t believe in the medical model he uses to describe brain chemistry AT ALL):
P.S. And I believe that ANYONE can become a Wayseer, not that it is a “special gift” for us Mad Folks, alone… we are just the “point people”
Other resources for The Strange and The Sensitive among us:
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3 Responses to Becoming a BABY ELDER

  1. Namaste says:

    You probably didn’t have time to respond to my recent comment, but I was wondering if you’ve safely made it across the border? Your last post implied that you were turned back, so maybe you wound up in Washington instead.

    • opeyemi parham says:

      I definitely “wound up in Washington”. And the essence of THAT is, that Spirit tells me “there is no where to run”…social justice issues up there just got REAL UGLY, when Black folks like me started flooding over the border seeking sanctuary after the Trump election and clear indications that this country is now led by white supremacists.
      I didn’t get out.
      I danced a fire walk that cleansed me of my fears and now allows me to stay in AmeriKKKa and Do The Work from here. Where I landed in the Pacific northwest has exactly TWICE as many Black folks (and more Latinos and First Nations folks) than where I was in Vermont, or where I was going, in B.C.
      As one friend said, “welcome to Aleppo”; enjoy your stay.

  2. Namaste says:

    I appreciate your response, thanks. I lived in that area for years. Please check out Port Townsend, WA on the Olympic Peninsula sometime. It’s a liberal, small community of amazing artists and also visionaries. If you decide to visit, I can give recommendations. Please let me know via your blog. I hope, though, that you and Orion are able to still see each other. You did “get out,” but it was in a different way. The Pacific Northwest is a magical place, and I look forward to reading about your new adventures. Enjoy!

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