Loving WE: Meditations on Pain


Meditative Post IT

During my train ride the other morning I heard one of my favorite poems from Amir Sulaiman Dead Man Walking.  As I listened to the poem on repeat over and over again, I thought about the many themes that I have been confronted with over the past couple of months.  What really made me think about this is how powerful this poem became when I inserted the word woman into the chorus and thought about it within the context of my own life, you know from the female perspective.  I am not sure how this post will end but know that this poem became a mediation for me as I thought through my travel experiences while riding the A – train to Harlem.  For me I find this poem a powerful step toward understand our collective travel stories as black women.  This is one of my many meditations on finding my voice as a travelling womanist while dealing with the pain that i used to take on from the sisters that surrounded me.  

I’m a dead woman walking

a mute woman talking

a blind woman watching

my sisters die

Sitting on the train, i often see many women that look like me or dont; that talk like me or dont; that seem to be a reflection of me but arent.  whether we are or we arent similar we all seem to have a story.  we all have something that is driving us to become a newer version of ourselves.  we all are searching for our internal truth.  however many of us are lost but what does being lost really mean.

we built our coffins

much to often

it gets so dark when

our mother cry

our time with our mothers, our mentors, our cousins, our sisters and our grandmothers are short and very sweet.  i think about the way that we treasure ourselves, we value our bodies and wonder how we have come to a place where our stories are told and represented by those who are not us.  i guess this meditation is really a reflection on the many images, songs, pictures, paintings, sights, sounds and interactions i have had concerning rape, love, hate, abuse and confusion.  i think of my friends and family that i love so much.  i wonder when they will love themselves as much as i love them.  i wonder when i will love myself as much as they love me.  i wonder when we will love ourselves as much as they love us.  i pray, i sing, i sit, i breathe and i remember that this process to become me is part of we.

I’m a dead woman walking

A mute woman talking

A blind woman watching

My sister’s die

I wont build their coffins

will not take part in

a death of my hearts kin

I would rather die

Peace B. Still,

ReFlectionary

~ by travelling womanists on April 22, 2011.

4 Responses to “Loving WE: Meditations on Pain”

  1. I loved this Blog, so much to think about when reading this.. It is important for us as women to love ourselves, as we were loved, and to love other women in an expressive way that allows them to feel and know they are valued and valuable..

  2. Thank you for this. I loved what you asked when will we love ourselves as much as we love others or as much as they love us. Women, in general, are taught to hate themselves. Women of color, specifically of African descent, are especially taught to hate ourselves. It takes so long to recognize our beauty and our worth and I’m constantly wishing that weren’t so. Thanks for providing a reminding context within which we can frame that quandary. Many of us know we are loved and know how deeply we love, but often forget we are worthy of having that love for ourselves in a very real, humble yet confident, but not prideful, way.

    Thank you. :)

  3. Leandra!! Thanks so much for your kind words and reflection. hopefully one day we will get to the place we need to be and this will be celebrated within the broader culture not just in the small circles that we all find comfort in. cant wait for you to blog for us!!!

  4. evelyn thanks so much for your comment. lets keep up the positive energy and remember that we can be not just happy black women but happy humans all we need is a positive space…

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