“If I didn’t learn to love myself, forgive myself a hundred times, dawg”-Kendrick Lamar ‘Count Me Out’
I always wish for the best year yet, for myself and others. 2022 was, for sure, the best year yet. It ushered me and us into a universal six-year, so there is plenty of bias because six is also my life path number and thus an energy I am very familiar with. All bias aside, 2022 really was the best year yet! And it had little to do with what I accomplished or where I’ve been. It was the best because of who I’ve become. Really and truly my ancestors’ wildest dream but also really and truly my own wildest dream. Whole and complete, not lacking anything. I became unf*ckwitable. I’ve mastered the art of living. I’ve cultivated equanimity. I’ve found my center, and my consistent practice has been to stay in the middle. (Finally making use of the most indecisive parts of my being, my Libra rising *smile*)
In the midst of it all, there is alchemy & also I will forever be in awe of the things that happened in the great year of 2022. I made good on my promise to Spirit and released The Lineage of Love. Panama with the Power of Girls, Family time– Juneteenth was epic! Kendrick in Milan with Halleemah. Florence!!! Ahh, Florence!! Tulum for 33 days with Tamara was the ultimate upgrade. Renaissance and Mr. Morale! The highs were high and as spontaneous as 48 hours in Paris, and the lows– well, I spent my birthday crying, literally. The Calm separation gutted me. Cousin Dani passed. I totaled my car. And in the midst of it all, there is this beautiful concept of equanimity.
Equanimity is the end of all suffering because it is the capacity to hold everything. Not literally hold everything, more so the ability to hold space for and allow anything. Whatever comes and whatever goes is copasetic when dealing with equanimity. There is no perceived good or bad; there just is. Nothing is permanent. Everything is passing, and we have the ultimate gift of observing all that is passing through our experience. Understanding the fleeting nature of all things, equanimity allows us to regard the highs and the lows, the joys and the pains with the same temperament and knowing that this too shall pass. Equanimity is present. It is yoga. Spacious, gracious, quiet, sure. As an innately highly sensitive being, I have always been at the mercy of emotions, and my emotions simultaneously at the mercy of whatever was going on externally or internally in my head or in my experience and perspective of what was actually happening. In a short time, I could experience an array of emotions and often get stuck in an emotion, unable to find my way to the other side.
February 2022, during my Odun Ifa (the yearly celebration of one’s Ifa initiation), the Odu that fell was Irosun Iwori. A significant part of the advice was to become comfortable with change and with things not always being the same. To truly experience joy, it would befit me to come from under the regime of my emotions. I am such an advocate for expressing and feeling all feelings. Still, I have found the great elixir, the happy medium, and the critical key to my internal everlasting peace and joy to be the concept of equanimity. Cultivating equanimity requires a lot of spaciousness. Spaciousness to be present, to feel, to release judgment, and ultimately to allow oneself to remain free from being entirely consumed by anything. The Buddha described a mind filled with equanimity as “abundant, exalted, immeasurable, without hostility and without ill-will.” Equanimity has earned its place as my 2022 word of the year. The cultivation of equanimity is regulating my nervous system. It is the still, small voice reminding me that I am safe. Equanimity is the green pastures, the still waters, and the paths of righteousness. It is the rod and the staff that comforts me.
On my drive home from a yoga class on Friday night, I listened to Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers. I have listened to Kendrick’s album hundreds of times at this point. The album is among my 2022 highlights, but this time felt exceptional because it was exactly one month since the last time I had listened to it. I did not realize it had been one month to the date, but lo and behold, it was. On December 6, 2022, I was driving home from my standing monthly appointment with Dr. Mark. My car spun out as I got off the Sidney Marus exit on I-85. I was listening to Purple Hearts when I hydroplaned and spun three times before hitting a wall. So imagine the overwhelming gratitude and emotion that overcame me when I made it to the next track, ‘Count Me Out’ one month later. If I didn’t learn to love myself, forgive myself a hundred times, dawg.
Thank God for equanimity, protection, and life, for this concept could not be explored without life.
All my love,