healing at home : making my home my sanctuary

healing at home

making my home my sanctuary

my dissertation research centers black women’s healing spaces in oakland.. i never imagined that as a first year phd student this would be the project i’d engage.. i didn’t even know the term “healing space” till a few years ago, &when i learned it i didn’t realize how distinctly it described what i had been subconsciously seeking to create in every realm of my life.. even though i did not have the language to describe it, i knew that i, as a black woman tryna find/ know/ love herself, needed some where to go to do that work.. that deep internal work that requires a location that feels safe& comfortable.. somewhere that had the capacity to reflect my light back to me.. &in the journey of finding that place, i learned that i must be that place for me while cultivating that place at home for my own complexly capacious healing.. // I. A NEED FOR BLACK WOMEN HEALING

i always felt misunderstood.. by my peers.. by my world.. by myself.. the combination of all the things that i am never made sense to people.. so they didn’t make sense to me.. people always assumed i must be so confident in myself.. because of who i appeared to be at face value.. but something in me beyond the layer of my visible skin knew confidence couldn’t come from security in what others saw on my external flesh.. it had to come from some place real deep within.. i knew i walked in contradiction, existing at the crux of the flimsiness that was my identity, the narrative that could no longer hold me..

so i started tryna break free.. &in that process i realized how important space is.. the relationship between the internal& external worlds that i walk through each day.. how these external worlds of dependency on a limited perception of me shaped my internal sense of identity.. defined me for me without my say.. defined by environments that were never equipped to carry me.. sites of injury that jaded my perspective on me.. realizing that i have the power to know a new kind of environment.. the power to decide where i choose to place my body.. to prioritize places where my body feels safe.. to curate spaces where my body feels safe.. the kind of environment i could create for myself.. the power to protect my body& my self from harms by cultivating a physical place that might channel a metaphysical space within where i am home with myself in my heart.. where the power of my interior world would overpower the dominance of this cruel cold world.. where i could create my own world inside myself& have it reflected back to myself.. a new view of myself reflected back to myself.. a model of a home that is love..

how necessary it is for us to have a home where we can go to decompress& unwind& recharge& face scars.. so i started asking this question - where do women like me go to heal? women who have endured pains from perceptions of identity that conflict with what we know to be most true? i started hosting sessions about self love, self care, and self awareness through The Selfology Movement.. i started realizing i needed my own practice, beyond what i preach.. i started becoming obsessed with making my home a healing space.. a space where i felt free.. somewhere that was a reflection of me.. i hosted healing spaces in tiny studio apartments for fellow black girl grad students& realized how transformative it was for us all.. through aromatherapy& aesthetic appeal, i created a vibe that made people want to relax& rebuild.. i began to realize how passionate i was about the energy space holds.. the way our bodies carry energy that we bring into a space& how that energy is transferred& transformed.. i decided that my home would always have a healing energy.. always be a safe space where black women could come for sister circles& decompression.. any spot i ever lived, no matter how small, would make room for the women in my life who needed it..

when i hosted my first healing circle in a tiny graduate housing studio apartment at UCLA, i was amazed that 22 women fit comfortably.. it was like the sisterhood of the traveling pants.. seeing the space literally expand to accommodate us, in all our shapes& sizes.. i sat on my carpeted floor glancing around at the diversity in that room.. black female graduate students from all over the world.. gathered in my home to build community.. &it captured a feeling in me that i carry forever.. a feeling of duty to do this regularly.. to facilitate what we far too often don’t have a chance to experience.. spaces of healthy community.. spaces of honesty& transparency.. of self actualizing accountability.. since then, i have vowed to host at least one healing circle a year in every home i live… &since then i've learned the importance of curating healing for my community as well as curating healing for me..

II. MAKING A HEALING SPACE OUT OF HOME so, moving into my new oakland apartment, it was so important for me to have my space be the epitome of healing.. i was so ocd about all my decorations bc i wanted my environment to be conducive for the healing of black women.. sadly, i was thoroughly disappointed with the space for months (see pt. 1 for details)..

but the one thing that upset me most was the energy i felt in the room.. every night before i went to bed i felt like i was not alone here.. but i did not feel like i was in comforting company.. i felt afraid.. like some trace of someone else’s pain had been placed at my doorstep.. there was a heaviness in the room.. a darkness that drained me.. i was fearful to admit it, bc i have never been one to believe in ghosts or anything.. but there was undoubtedly a spirit of depression in the space that caused such a heavy burden on me.. how could my home of healing be haunted by lingering death?.. how could my first real grown girl apartment be so tainted?

i was upset with god.. he knew how much this moment meant to me!.. knew how much i needed this little tiny studio to feel like my home.. for myself& for the women i wanted to host here.. i decorated adamantly.. spent hours& hours a day for weeks that turned to months, trying to bring my light into the space to wash away whatever darkness had been left behind.. but still i had no luck.. still i was left feeling lost& lonely& confused& conflicted.. what was this presence that i could not escape?

i went to the meditation center& after the 45 minute session i opened my eyes to see alice walker had been meditating right next to me.. i was so unbelievably moved by her presence.. that day the darma talk was about meta meditation.. about how we can find power in the peace within us as we project it out to the world.. how to wish for peace, love, joy and safety for ourselves, our loved ones, our enemies& our world.. how hundreds of years ago, there were men who feared the forest, bc it’s dark trees felt too daunting to face.. but their teacher told them to use meta meditation to shift the energy of the atmosphere.. after the talk, i told alice how much her work had inspired me.. she held my hands& gave me the most heartwarming smile of affirmation.. she smiled from a place so deep in her light that i felt it in my own.. she said “you are radiant.”..

that night i went home& i decided not to be afraid.. bc i am light& i exude light& no darkness could ever be more powerful than me.. &that night i faced the dark.. instead of running away from it, hiding beneath my covers& shivering in its presence, i faced it.. i said out loud in the room, “you are not greater than me.. you are not greater than my light.. i pray for you.. i pray you find your light.. until then, i pray you leave this place, for darkness is not welcomed here.”.. i felt the spirit of god grace me.. i felt powerful& protected, because i knew i was not alone in my light.. i knew god had me.. i started practicing meta meditation in that moment, with my eyes closed& my deep breaths stretching me as i said silently, “may i have peace, may i be well.. may my mother have peace, may she be well.. may the energy of this space have peace, may the energy in this space be well”.. i realized i didn’t have to fight the darkness with darkness.. but with light, faith& prayer, i could face it from a place of confidence& strength.. strange how the day i faced the dark it became a little lighter.. &after that day my fear of my home was never the same..

i reclaimed the space.. i realized that it was everything i had prayed for, a place where i could learn lessons& let my light shine& get lost in my journal& journey through pages of alice walker’s “in search of our mother’s gardens”.. it was a place that could hold all the hollowness in me, &all the capacity in me.. a space that could count all the ways i was running from myself& a place that would hold me accountable to that.. it became the sanctuary i had dreamed of, because i made it so.. a place where i could run away from the world when the world wasn’t safe enough for me.. a place where i mattered most.. a place where i centered me.. a place where i embrace my own pace without judgement.. i realized through the process of preparing my home for healing that i truly have the power to create my own reality..

HEALING AT HOME: AN ODE TO MY SANCTUARY

I.

you started as a blank canvas

uncurated uncultivated

uncutioned

quiet

squeaks of your hinges haunted me

hardwood floors felt cold and callous

cutting through the thick of my skin

beneath my feet

frustrated,

i couldn’t read you

i couldn’t reach you

yearning for some form of recognition from you

to see me and set me free

here

lay me to rest in the rawness of your warmth

i saw potential in you

past the painful sleepless nights you caused

crying babies out my window

crack babies out my window

cracks in the paint at my window

can’t see the sun out my window

cried in my baby’s arms as i stared out the window

of this strange widowed place that felt as vacant as my heart

yet from here

is where we created art...

//

on move in day

in order to keep sane

i decorated.

decorated every inch of every corner

placed petals of dead flowers in the cracks of your crevices

just to remind myself

there is life after death,

there is life after death

carried couches and chairs down east oakland sidewalks

to make you my sanctuary

to shelter myself from you, in you, with you

you would become who i needed you to

cause i needed you to

be it one week or two or three

i would make a home of you

//

i made my way through life through you

the day i declared.

i dared face the darkness you held

in the hollowness of your heroes

whose honest scent lingered behind

like a black widow in her wilderness

whose blood still boldly buried beneath your concrete

i could feel her fumbling in my garden when i’d sleep

i sent for you

but had to go through her first

and she never feared me

until i remembered that i must not fear her

she was the wicked of the past i left behind

she was a reflection of the darkness in me

//

that day at the meditation center

alice waker reminded me

with her soft hands and calm smile

embracing me carefully

“you have the power, sister”

the power to cultivate a garden

to pull from the powers of my mothers

to pull from the depths of the dirt and dig out the gem

to know that light always wins

and i will always be light so long as i choose

and now i am light

and now you are light too.

II.

you

physical space of sage and scents

you who ignites metaphysical space inside my inner place of sage and scents

you are the light that reflects my light

so i must never fear you

even when i fear me

even when i can’t face myself

you give me space to embrace myself

the booty shakin

book reading

journal writing

red lip rockin

poet

scholar

activist

and you let me be

all of these things

all at once

with no pressure to compartmentalize

in a world that demands i compartmentalize

you are the only place in the world where my world is my own

you let me walk into my world with my name on it

you let me be

thirteen year old ree

playin

patty-cake-pick-a-boo-little-Sally Walker

you let me wonder what life might be like

if this world loved black women

because in this alternate universe that you and i create

this world loves black women

like me

with my tongue out and my thighs out

in my two tone

red bone

high yella skin

home is here

healing is here

you cultivate home inside me

III.

my sacred sanctuary of healing

you see me in all of my rawness

and you love me most here

in the darkest part

of my deepest dungeon

where the demons live and lurk

you meet me here

and embrace me here

and remind me that i am

Holy

with my ashy knees

and sheabutterless, uncreamed, coiled, kinky hair

frizzed and napped

the kitchen at the nape of my neck

collecting dust

cause i'm depressed

and dry

and stale

and lonely

but you see me

and you seek me

and you reflect me

//

during the holidays

when i ain't have no family

you was my family

tucked me in extra tight that night

and nestled me into your warmth

you helped me trim the tree

and tie the bow in a knot

draped the lights across each branch

hung the stockings and danced with me

to all my favorite nostalgic slow jams

like This Christmas and Jackson 5’s

santa kissing mama under the mistletoe

and on the part when Michael come in and say

"no, no I really did see mommy kissin' santa clause"

when i recited every word

you didn’t even laugh at me

you just let me be

weird and corky and crazy in my own way

you knew that’s the song i use to sing with mama

and you comforted me for my loss

you let me laugh at myself

and love

and grieve

and get better

and get worse

and get restless

and retreat

and retrieve

and conspire to kick myself out my own world

when i become too much for me

but when i wanna return

you always welcome me back

with open arms

no harm ever done

IV.

some say you are but a figment of my imagination

but i once imagined you

at a time when i struggled to imagine myself

and you became reality

and i retained reality

many may not believe in your power

but your power is simply the power within me

reflected back to me

reflections of myself at every angle i turn

you become the depiction of my highest me

a memory of ancient black motherhood

that always birthed green

always planted seeds

out flower pots surrounded by poisonous weeds

the slave mama

who always made somethin out of nothin

the poor mama

whose hands danced away poverty

with sprouting tulips and purple pansies

who never had a lot but always had a home

who turned a hut into a home

who made space to belong

//

&don't every black woman deserve this,

a space she can call her sanctuary?

to sit still in her magic

and make meaning of her life

to let her truth form before her

to cultivate the vacant space inside her heart

where art is awaiting creation

where her ritual of righting wrongs and singing songs off key in her shower can occur

a place where her life can occur

where do Black women go when life lets us down?

we go home

and shouldn’t our homes be spaces of healing,

if nowhere else in this world will be?

to kneel at our altars

and pray to our ancestors

and rejoice to our gods

and give grace to our enemies

and meditate away negative energies

and embrace positivity

don’t we deserve that space?

yes we go home

to heal

we find home inside a little lot of land

where we proudly place our name and say

i curate my healing here

i escape here

and that little plot of pain in our hearts

ceases its tension

even just for a moment...

TOP 5 DECORATING TIPS

1. Curtains at Window and Entry Way

2. Pillows on Bed and Everywhere Else They Can Go

3. Pops of Color (Be Bold, Don't be Afraid of Color)

4. Large Rugs

5. Plants Near Windows