Blowing Kisses

When I was a little girl I learned that when you see a red bird you should make a wish and blow a kiss to it. This will bring you good luck. I have learned that luck is a relative thing. But by acknowledging the red bird I am in tune with the universe, if but for a moment! On second thought, I guess I was pretty lucky to learn this practice.

Sometimes a simple act is all that is needed to change our disposition. It moves our spirit, changes our focus and perspective, especially when the mood is not pleasant. I have had times when I have been on the fringes of anger and then a red bird zooms through flying very low. I pause for a moment to blow the bird a kiss. In an instant my mood has changed. Good magic is about moving our spirit to a place that is better.

Transcendence

I love the whole idea of transcendence. When things get tough, magic takes over. Hoes work by themselves and cotton is turned into clouds.

Another story in Courlander's A Treasury of African Folktales talks about how an overseer put a group of African slaves in the field "but he couldn do nuttn wid um." The overseer whipped the slaves. Angry, they got "tugedduh an stick duh hoe in duh fiel an den dey say 'quack, quack, quack,' and dey riz up in duh sky and and tun hesef intuh buzzuds and fly right back tuh Africa." The hoe was left in the field, sticking in the ground but the Africans went back home.

Hoes That Work by Themselves

From A Treasury of Afro-American Folklore by Harold Courlander.

I have heard about a magic hoe that folks put in the gahden. They speak certain words tuh it; the hoe goes ahead and cultivates the gahden without anyone touching it. They jist tell it tuh do the wuk and it does it." (Folklore, Georgia Sea Islands."

The land possesses the body. The body possesses land. When in need of rest, sleep, escape the body becomes "magic." It transcends.

My ancestors spent many days transcending--through prayer and meditation. Hoes magically worked by themselves and people could fly.

Ogun

It was all about the garden today, especially garden tools and the role that metal plays in our lives. Today a wise man talked about metal and how we tend to forget how vital it is in our lives. It plows our fields, tends our gardens, and it carries us from place to place. It floats in our bodies. It also makes our weapons--knives, machetes, guns. Give thanks to metal--Iron, cobalt, selenium, zinc, potassium and the necessary 25 more that keep us functioning.

The festival was for Ogun--the Yoruba deity of iron and metal. Ogun clears paths for clearer thinking and makes for loyal relationships. Ogun uses his metal tools to shape our lives and inner potential. Ogun is a powerful force running through our veins in the form of 30 metallic elements that are necessary for a healthy body.

Ogun was once married to Osun, the beautiful deity of love and inner peace. My friend and I mused as we worked in the garden that upon glancing at the beautiful river goddess who lived in the grove at Oshogbo, Nigeria, he decided that she should be surrounded by flowers and more beauty so he honed the tools for cultivation. Oshun went to work and created the grove. We imagine her walking there each morning, fan in hand, stopping every now and then to smell the roses.

Look Back

I am not sure why I am afraid and what I am afraid of or to be quite honest if I am really afraid at all. I am anxious about the next moment. I wonder if it will be as good as the last moment or better than the one before.

This morning I went for a long very brisk walk. The sun was shining and it was warm, almost hot at eleven. It - I felt good.

I blew kisses at the red birds that zoomed across my path. The rock that I thought metal was just a rock. I picked it up, walked a ways then threw it. I shook someone's world--shifted the energy just to the left of me.

See what I mean about that last moment.

Right now I am trying to figure out why I wrote the first sentence of this piece in the first place.