I’ve never been a short-hair person. I’ve always had long hair it’s been part of how I see myself, how I’ve carried my identity, my beauty, and my womanhood. But last week, I woke up from a dream about my mother who has evolved. When I opened my eyes, I felt a strong and clear energy moving through me to cut your hair. It felt immediate like an instruction.So I did. I did not realize until two days later that it was my mother’s evolution anniversary ( 2 days before ). I wasn’t tracking the date. I knew it was this month but not the date I was too caught up in life and to busy detaching I am sure. But something in me something beyond my conscious mind knew. This is how dreams work. This is how ancestors work. This is how the Afro Divine Feminine moves not always through logic, but through timing, symbols, and soul. Have you ever had a dream (or waking feeling) that gave you a clear instruction? What was it? FYI I now look like my mom! lol

This is for those called back to the Mother of Mothers. Afro Divine Feminine. Ancestral wisdom. Sacred community. subscribe to learn more This morpho came to me all pretty and charismatic, his energy on ten, life in 3D he was, colors of ocean blue and the, SWAG! I just knew he’d be the best I ever had, the love I never knew. I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way he glided past my face, the way he traveled through time and space just to be near me, to speak to me, to see me

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This reflection is offered as an opening. Read slowly. Notice what stirs, resists, or recognizes itself. If you feel called, share what this reflection brings up for you in the Community Reflection Thread. When responding, you may begin your post with “This Mo'Fo” to keep reflections connected. Enjoy! This Mo’FO This morpho came to me all pretty and charismatic, his energy on ten, life in 3D he was, colors of ocean blue and the, SWAG! I just knew he’d be the best I ever had, the love I never knew. I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way he glided past my face, the way he traveled through time and space just to be near me, to speak to me, to see me Yes, little ole me. sHe saw.she felt.she knew. sHe did not question.she did not doubt. She just knew who and what I was she saw through. Fourteen months we talked, visited, and walked. Fourteen months we drank, shared, and became. Became something to each other. We spent the spring and summers basking in each other’s rays, season after season feeding on each other’s emotions, dancing through each other’s trauma. Seasons of laughing and fighting,crying and hurting. Seasons of stalemates and change. Seasons of cold despair and saddened delays. Seasons of falling apart and laying dormant in each other’s skin. Oh, I knew he would be the death of me. I knew she was too good to be true. Who could love someone like little ole me? Ahh, but she did,’cause he would not leave,she would not go. He cuddled beside me, wrapped his long bright blues around me, with melodies of voices she breathed into me, until one day, he disappeared. I could not move. It was the longest night underneath her moon. So, tired! I was suffering. So, mad I grew,like flames in the morning light. I was burning. How dare I let something take from me. How dare I lose pieces of myself. How dare I defy my own gravity.

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