Evidence of things not Seen

I found myself back on these sacred indigenous lands of Sapelo Island once again. At a time when I was experiencing what feels like an outer body death of sorts. I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’m not going crazy or having another mental break. It’s quite interesting how a malnourished mind will have you operating. I can hear my father whisper, “the mind is a terrible thing to waste Sun … and the Spirit, even worse.”

While here, I’d bare witness to a familiar two word phrase that I heard growing up in rural South Georgia. “Alright now”. Followed by the nod of the head or a wave.

A greeting of love, community endearment, concern, and acknowledgment. After hearing it for the third time, I stopped to ask myself, “are you alright, now?” Am I really, “alright” in this moment?

I also would bare witness to the home-going services of one of the islands last patriarchs. A quiet, gentle rain poured as the service took place. And as people exited the church to see his body off, there was a slow but steady clearing in the sky; the Sun making its way through clouds that were said to not leave for another 24 hours. A beacon of light, if you will.

This all happened on the eve of the Spring Equinox. The New Year. How fitting … how death begets life. The body, a mere dish of fragile flesh. The soul even more fragile. Yet resilient enough for a new form, a new beginning, a new build to be born. I was reminded of the indigenous Proverb, “When an Elder dies, a library burns to the ground.” In the same sentence, I was reminded of what Ancestor Toni Morrison once said, “All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.” To some extent, I agree. In the wake of it all, I no longer aspire to go back to the old me but I yearn the days of newness, space, freedom, and all the possibilities it can bring.