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The Ebo of One Thousand Miles

During the past 18 months I have traveled over 80,000 miles. Some of my trips, whether overnight or several days long, took me into interesting and unique spaces.

My latest road trip found me on the backroads of Route 43. Miles and miles of pavement and trees. The view was beautiful but like all quiet country roads, the sounds and sites of nature pulled me deep into the recesses of my mind.

Somewhere along the way I noticed how the trees along the side of the road knew how to grow around the obstacles in their way. The branches of each tree that I noticed stretched and contorted themselves around wires, poles and other unidentifiable objects. As I marveled at the brilliance and intuitive knowledge of each tree I saw, I began to recall all of the trees and weeds that I have seen in my travels. Trees and weeds growing through concrete, wrapped around poles and growing around above ground wires.

I pulled over to get an up close look at one particular weeping willow that was growing in grand fashion around and above ground wires. As I leaned on my car looking and marveling at this tree, it occurred to me that a tree may perhaps be the perfect example of how a person should approach a challenging situation in life and perform the ebo of personal change required to build good character.

A tree does not yield or bow down. Nor does it give up and stop growing. It adjusts to the environment for its greater good. When we approach Orunmila with our problems and we are given the seemingly simple ebo of changing our character and/or perspective, many of us stop in our tracks, refuse to change or challenge the priest delivering a hard but necessary truth.

It is far easier to prepare or give a sacrifice outside of ourselves than it is to change the demons within. The question formed in my mind while looking at lady weeping willow was, “when your ancestors, Orisha, Mpungo, Lwa, etc. require the long hard ebo of attitude adjustment will I rise to the task like this tree or will I look for the quick fix of saying Oh well, this is just how I am?”, never attempting to make the necessary changes to bring balance and blessings into my life.

On the surface, it would seem to be an easy choice but when Esù holds up a mirror for you to view the imperfections and to honestly look at the miles you’ve traveled struggling under the weight of your own baggage making a character ebo is one of the steepest mountains to climb.

For me, the choice to take the road of the one thousand miles ebo seems like the best and most logical choice. Bending, yielding and growing around obstacles like a tree for my greater good.

It was the sound of another solo traveler that brought me back from the grove of trees I had been pondering. Several mosquito bites later, I felt a bit wiser and determined to learn more about the ways of trees.

Back in my car, still several hours from my home counting miles and marveling at the extraordinary found in nature.

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Fear and Loathing in ATR/DTR Communities.

To initiate or not to initiate that is the question, whether tis nobler to initiate in Africa or in the Diaspora to suffer the slings and arrows of this ilè vs. that ilè.

Whew… it’s only Tuesday and I have finally come up for air and well, these innanets have me in my feelings before my second cup of coffee! I’m going to start with the shit and end with sugar, bear with me as I vent.

Over the years I have heard countless first and second hand accounts of people being scammed and taken for everything they have when initiated into Orisha traditions, Palo, Voodun, Kemet, etc.. The stories have been heartbreaking and I am often left wondering when the powers that be will swoop down and devour the predators in our communities.

I have seen seemingly strong and fearless men felled by the smooth talk of a Babalawo and women give up their most sacred possessions in the hopes of connecting with spirit and satisfying that deep emptiness that calls out for spiritual nourishment. I ask again, when will it change?

Many people turn to African or Diaspora Traditional Religions for many reasons. The most common reason for this return to ancestral practices is most of us are in some state of chaos in our lives, whether it be financial, health issues, spiritual matters or relationships, we find that the big 3 religions are not providing the solutions we need to change the course of our lives for the better.

It is through chaos that the predator priests and misguided internet fame/money seekers thrive. These types use fear and loathing to reel in those who are at their most vulnerable and desperately in need of love from their spirits.

Predator priests are no different than the pimp on the corner. They are, in their own right, knowledgeable, good diviners and gifted in the subtle art of manipulative talk. These men and women recognize the chaos, emptiness and potential goldmine in those that seek them out for help and they exploit the hell out of it. Everything from exorbitant fees for services, fake trips to Africa for initiation, sexual assault disguised as a spiritual offering, mental abuse, etc. if you can name an outright criminal and/or abusive act hidden under the guise of Orisha, Lwa, Mpungo I can tell you of a true story where such things have occurred.

Then there are the McMagic YouTube Scholars who have had access to credible houses, priests and information, that feel the spiritual downloads they received between episodes of “Luke Cage” was somehow transmitted by Orisha and now gives them license to teach, charge and mislead those who are in chaos and searching for help. They don’t need initiation (but do have a priest on speed dial for clean up in aisle “I fucked up”).

These McMagic types espouse things like;

  1. Oshun only likes light skin daughters
  2. You don’t need initiation to unlock the secrets of Lwa, Orisha or any divinity
  3. Feed your blood to the spirits in a cemetery
  4. Orisha will Mount you at night for sex
  • I could make a list full of ignorance promoted as truth, that would take the masses a month to read in its entirety.
  • The FUCKERY is real and it’s so deep that some days I cannot begin to see how we can stamp out the bullshit that occurs and is prompted globally as truth.
  • It is times like this when I must turn to Spirit, ancestors and my elders for proper guidance and get balance. Why do I do this? It’s because THERE ARE MORE PHENOMENAL PRIESTS AND LAYPERSONS ON THIS PLANET THEN BAD ONES.
  • If you’ve made it this far in my rant, thank you! Now let me share with you what I do know.
  • An initiation can happen in Africa or anywhere in the Americas. With the right Godparents, Iyanifa, Babalawo or Awo, your initiation can and will be done correctly. An elder that is truly in service to God, ancestors and Spirits/Energies of their tradition will have ups and downs just like the rest of us BUT, they will make every effort to help you help yourself walk truthfully in your destiny.
  • YOU are solely responsible for who YOU choose to give your spiritual head and heart to. Do your damn homework!! I KNOW that potential godchildren are lead by spirit to their future godparents. If a person has an open recruitment campaign for godkids, question the hell out of that? Why does anyone have to advertise for godkids? Stuff like this reminds me of Christian churches going out into the world to save souls but, in the case of ATR/DTRs a hefty fee is usually attached. Verify a person’s title, talk privately to members of the community to get the 411 on the person you are considering trusting with your well being.
  • Learn to trust this one person I am about to name above all others. This person is YOU! Listen to that little voice, trust that uneasy feeling and/or pay attention to the red flags raised when you are around a so-called elder. Trusting the divine spirit within you may just save your life and a few thousand dollars, as well as, lead you to the right godparents.
  • When I was visiting the home of a woman who claimed to be an Egungun Priest, she was in the process of getting evicted. She had a “bonding” session with potential new members to her Egbe. That bonding session was really just her getting free labor because she and her husband had 4 days to vacate the premises. As I sat and watched what was unfolding, I listened to what walks with me AND what walked in her house. I knew at that moment I would never do any type of business with her, on any level ever again. I share my personal story with my readership so that you all know that I have made the mistake of walking into situations without fully checking the person out and, I have also listened to as well as, obeyed what my spiritual court had said to do. We all go through learning the hard way at some point in time, so don’t beat yourself up about making a poor choice. Just consider it a lesson learned, fix it and do better going forward. Allow no one to shake your faith and knock you off of your path. If you get burned by a shit stain of a human, take it as a life lesson and move forward.
  • Oh, one more thing if you have a question, ask. Ask a million times if necessary.
  • I’m going to be patient and keep on doing the work I am supposed to be doing in my traditions, Mpungos got this and everything done is seen and eventually addressed.
  • Back to the shrine I go…

Ambrozine LeGare is a Medium, Diviner, Rootworker, Incense Maker and Writer-at-Large

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Beware of Conjure Connie!

The online spiritual community can be both beneficial and harmful in the same breath. At the click of a link, one can find a angel of a worker or a devil in a Sunday suit.

Or you might find a Conjure Connie, who imagines being thrown at by every little shadow and is always ready to play the victim with salty tears that fall on demand when called on their fuckery.

The Conjure Connies of the online spiritual community are one of the most divisive and manipulative types of women walking among the rest of us. The silence of those who know a Conjure Connie or three helps to keep these types in business. So you must be asking yourself “how do I recognize if someone I know is a Conjure Connie?”

If you have seen or experienced any of the following online, you may have a Conjure Connie on your friends list:

  1. She’s always being thrown at;
  2. She’s always ready to “unleash the beast”;
  3. She always needs “extra magical help” unleashing the beast;
  4. She sends private dm’s explaining why she is being targeted, needs extra magical help and makes sure she tells the person she’s dm’ing they are being targeted for extermination too;
  5. She tries to play both sides against each other by telling lies about the other to start a possible witch war;
  6. When confronted about her lies, treachery and generic brand of witchcraft by the person she’s tried to slander and get strangers to throw at, she blocks the person and then posts that “I am so done. I am done with the bullying. I have never seen a community that seems to thrive on it. What a sad sad state of affairs. I won’t speak up anymore…”;
  7. Then she goes and licks her wounds with her sisters Permit Patty, Barbecue Becky and Wicca-lyte Wendy.
  • Here are some quick responses you can reply to the Conjure Connies in your life when they act up while you sip on your tea:
    1. Weren’t you being thrown at by a priest of {insert ATR name here} last month?;
      What did you do to cause the ire of {insert name of new enemy here}?;
      I thought you unleashed beasts?;
      What did you have for dessert last night?

    Don’t let Conjure Connie pull you into her web of deception and manipulation because her target of the month just may actually be a real witch.

    Conjure Connie please go sit your McMagic ass down somewhere and find something to do like polish your candles, crystals and cauldrons.

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    The Spaces Between Prayer and Ritual

    “Everyone wants to be a Bruja until it’s time to do bujeria shit.”

    I have long since forgotten who had said this all too true statement. I am finding that now, more than ever, so many people talk about Hoodoo this and Maferefun that but do not consistently live a spiritual life.

    Events over the past several days have me assessing and checking myself, doing a full spiritual exam of sorts. Am I a spiritual practitioner or do I live a spiritual life? Which is it?

    I’d like to think that I fully live a spiritual life but the truth of the matter is, I exist in spaces between prayer and ritual. Those loud and quiet spaces where I drop collares and elekes for waist beads, dance shoes and time with my friends. Those spaces where I turn off the spirit chatter and for a brief moment, pretend I never heard the call. Those spaces where I find beauty in sacred weeds growing through concrete and listening to the sounds of the hustlers doing their thing in this ‘in between’.

    I know first hand the transformative power of prayer, of how the properly done ritual will blow a hole through a seemingly unmovable obstacle that will make a nonbeliever know without a doubt that a miracle is what occurs when prayer and ritual marry. But, some days I need to breathe and simply feel like I did as a kid riding my bike along the East River. I crave these spaces during trying times where I have to put emotions aside and help someone transition or after one of those calls/texts at no sleep o’clock. I crave and need the in between.

    LOL! As I write this I realize that I didn’t fully step inside of my in between because I have my no nonsense Yeye here asking me if I have finished with my “what is the meaning of my life moment”. She is literally reminding that my life and destiny is that of prayer, ritual and love. The spaces in between is what I have created along with the spiritual world to find my balance between the living and the dead. LOL indeed, I thought I would have time to get another cup of coffee, write and be all philosophical this morning but alas Yeye ain’t having it and her charge has work to do.

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    Praying for Death

    This time of year always brings back bitter sweet memories (yeah I know, it sounds like I’m about to break out into song). Several years ago my life changed and today I find myself, yet again, in the midst of changes that I have no power over to control the outcome.

    Sometimes I’d like to believe that if I do incantations the right way, make ebo, smile enough, have good character and do good it will somehow delay the inevitable arrival of death. To literally see death on a person has always been disconcerting, I have never really got used to this and don’t think that I will ever truly will. As I sit here waiting in the advanced imaging suite for one of the greatest loves of my life to finish with their exam, I see death in all of her glorious stages on the terminally ill and those that are teetering between being terminal and having a fighting chance to live longer.

    I see the fear, worry and challenges that each individual here is facing and then I see death. It is both interesting and sad for me to be set in the middle of the dance between life and death.

    There is a woman here who has prayed to live long enough to she her grandchild born and a man who is very much alone, afraid and remorseful that he chose work over family, there is a little boy here who knows how precious time is and is having a great time making us all laugh.

    Death is not cruel, it is the actions of people that is cruel. Death is partner to life. Death is not final. I see her playing her part in the universe maintaining balance and this morning she is reminding me about the importance of living a prayerful life that is filled with as much laughter, love and music as possible. Reminding me to fight for what feeds my soul and makes me happy, makes my loves happy.

    I will never be comfortable with death but today, through my tears I am ready to fight for each and every one of my days left and those that I love.

    As soon as I get home, I’m going to dance and pray.

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    Omo Ogun, His Lie and 30 Orogbo aka The Rewards Received for Obedience.

    Bare with me as I recount a true story about a man, his lie and how I learned about how obedience is rewarded.

    Let me start off by saying that some motherfuckers are bold as hell!  Bold to the point where no one would blame you if you rolled up to their house, rang the doorbell, punched them in their face and then dropped a bird at their feet.

    A man whom I shall call Anthony, called his cousin for a late night Ifa reading about a me. Worried that I was working palo on him, he sent his payment, got his telephone recording app ready and waited for his chance to tell his story.  First a little back story on Anthony, according to him, he was crowned Ogun, a descendent of African Royalty and an all around cool brother, at least this is the version of life fantastic that he told.  Well Mr. I’m the Shit took the steps of downloading my picture and sent it to his Babalawo cousin aka Baba Okeydoke for a reading.

    One the night of the reading Baba Okedoke answers the phone and greets Anthony with the following “why are you calling me so late for a reading?”.  Anthony trips over his words and launches into a carefully prepared speech about a spurned woman who lied, manipulated and who is ultimately working Palo on him. The Baba yawned his way through the reading and agreed wholeheartedly with Anthony about me being wicked while never actually doing any type of reading.  Between yawns, food chewing and drink sipping, 24 minutes later, Baba Okeydoke prescribed an ebo of 30 orogbo and 1 rooster to an Orisha that would help Anthony overcome and be victorious over the evil known as the woman in his life.  When Anthony heard the word orogbo, he asked, “what is orge-bo”.  Baba replied “orogbo, you know, kola nuts”.  Anthony says “is that the brown nut thing?”, Baba Okedoke replies yes.  Anthony excitedly tells Cousin Baba that he going to do this ebo and end my wicked reign of terror over his life.

    Anthony invigorated from his reading went on to share copies of his reading to prove to all of the doubters that I was a really really bigly bad Palera doing really really bad stuff to the man-boy.

    Thing is, he lied and the Babalawo did not do a legitimate reading.

    So how did little ole me find out about “Omo Ogun”, his lie and his ebo? I found out because my Egun are who they say they are, Orisha are who they say they are, Mpungo are who they say they are and that recording ended up being played for me and also sent to my inbox.  Imagine listening to a recording and hearing some Basic Billy call you everything but a child of God and asking for a spiritual remedy to stop you in your tracks. I was pissed beyond measure at being accused of things that I didn’t do and felt some kind of way about the bogus reading given by Cousin Baba Okeydoke.  My first thought was to call this low-budget fuckboi and let him know that I did not do any Palo work on him but I could and would so that he wouldn’t be such a liar.  I wanted to confront that Baba for doing nothing more than collecting coin and encouraging a liar to be a liar.  That “reading” was an insult to Iyanifas, Awos and Babalawos that genuienely love Ifa and divine with honesty and integrity.  Through my anger I clearly heard “go to your altar talk it out and do nothing other than pray about it”.  My people, both dead and alive, know that this instruction was against everything that I felt but, I reluctantly complied.

    I talked, cursed, ranted and prayed about this situation. Prayed to see the lesson in all of this. Prayed for understanding as to why I couldn’t turn this man’s life upside down.  As I prayed my own words were told to me, “do you not trust what walks with you?”.  Receiving this, I sat myself down and eventually let this situation go.

    It has been approximately 14 days from the first moment when my Egun woke me up at 4:00 am telling me to go visit my spiritual sister until yesterday, 6/6/2018 at 9:53 pm when the lessons from this experience came fully to light.

    When I was instructed to move, I did so without hesitation.  When I was instructed to stand down and pray, I did so, albeit reluctantly. When I felt move to offer a token of thanks to my entire spiritual frame, I did it with love and to the best of my ability.  The rewards for being obedient and listening, even when I didn’t want to were as follows;

    1. Anthony, called me via video conference with a witness to admit that he lied and apologized;
    2. A Babalawo that I do not know, visited my spiritual sister and exposed everything about Baba Okeydoke  without knowing the backstory;
    3. Any doubts that I had about messages I receive, work that I do, etc. were erased when Spirits delivered messages from known and unknown people to me to say, keep on keeping on daughter, we’ve got you covered;
    4. I was gifted something I needed as a reminder that walking the walk matters. Being honest and having integrity counts;
    5. The most powerful work one can do is pray;
    6. The Divine and all aspects of divinity are alive, real and always on the move;

    There will be days that I struggle with my own personal challenges, days that I don’t particularly feel like doing anything remotely spiritual but believe me when I tell you this, if spirit tells me to move, I will be moving so fast my feet won’t even hit the floor!

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    My Sister’s Kindness

    If you’re lucky you’ll have the pleasure of meeting people who truly embody the light that we all wish to see in everyone we meet.

    This week I lost a sister-friend, Bea. I am still in a semi-state of denial and hoping that perhaps if I call her she’ll pick up and say “girl you are crazy”.

    I hate losing anything. I especially hate losing those that I care about to the other side. While I am fully aware that death is not the end, when it hits close to home I feel salty, sad and question why.

    To know Bea was to know a sweet kindness that many claim to have but lack. She was calm, gentle and kind. She was funny and a great cook. She liked my jokes (which is important if you want to be my friend) and was super smart. Did I mention how kind she was? My friend was kind. Kind to strangers and friends alike. Kind to those who didn’t deserve it. Her kindness was so beautiful that it was unto itself, a form of spirituality. It allowed her to find room for the unlovable and to forgive when forgiveness should not have been an option.

    I have found random tears streaming down my face, totally unaware that I was crying these past few days. She visited me in my dreams last week, to prepare me for what was to come. I knew that her time here was coming to an end but, damn it all to hell, I wasn’t ready. Still not ready.

    Tears are flowing again as I write this latest blog post. I know she was met by her ancestors and given favor because of her heart, so I take comfort in that.

    She showed me, by example, how quiet grace is a virtue and kindness is a balm that one must carry at all times. Tonight I am checking my kindness meter to make sure it is at Bea levels.

    Sis, rise up and continue to spread your balm wherever your next chapter takes you. I am going to miss you my dear.

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    Black Like Me

    As a medium and reader I am privy to personal information about my clients that they would never tell others and on most occasions I learn about information that even the client does not know about from their own ancestors.

    Several months ago a man, who I will call Greg (story shared with client’s permission, name and state changed to conceal identity), came to me for a reading because he felt drawn to the Lwa and wanted to know if he as a white man should pursue learning more about the Vodun religion and how could he find more stability in his life.

    The reading started off quietly as most of my readings do and then a whole bunch of his father’s family showed up to tell me exactly why Greg had no stability in his life and he felt a draw to an African Traditional Religion. They were upset that Greg was racist towards his own people and did not acknowledge his own Black ancestry.

    To say that this reading was going to be interesting for me and startling for him would have been an understatement. His family was slaves and their descendants from Virginia. His grandmother was Black and passed as white. She moved to the northwestern part of the United States, married and raised her family, along with her husband, as white. Greg grew up not personally knowing any minorities and often he took part of taunting of the few Black kids in his school.  As Greg got older he explored several spiritual paths and is now currently in ******** but, the internet and his exposure to other cultures eventually lead him to discover religions such as Vodun, Palo and Lucumi. Vivid dreams as well as various incidents in his life that ********* rituals could not explain or fix, was why he said he felt a pull to Black religions to find answers.

    Greg was referred to me for an ancestral reading in 2017 and during our reading I told him that his Black ancestors were not pleased with him and a few of them were causing his roads to close. He was given several suggestions by me to put into place immediately to help alleviate his situation, to start learning more about his family and the religion he was drawn to.  This revelation was, needless to say, a complete shock to him and was met with disbelief and accusations of me being a fraud.  Six months later I received an unexpected “love gift” and thank you for the reading from Greg with a letter explaining what he felt and had subsequently what he went through.  Below is a portion of his letter;

    “Dear Ambrozine; I want to apologize to you for the way I behaved when you read for me last year. When you told me that I had Black ancestors, I didn’t believe you and I did not want to. I did an ancestry test and three days after speaking with you I got the result and they matched what you said. I sat with the information you gave me and the DNA result for weeks before going to my mother about what I had learned. My mom thought the result was wrong and she ordered tests from another company for me, my sister, dad and her. When we got the results back a few weeks later, that’s when we discovered that my dad was part black. This has turned my life upside down, it has turned my family upside down. I have many answers but also twice as many questions.”

    As I read Greg’s letter, I thought about all of the people who walk around believing that they have exotic features, are a mixture of European and Mediterranean or think they have native in their family line.  I thought about all of the African slaves that had to survive and their descendants that decided to pass for white in an attempt at an easier life. I thought about all of the Indigenous people of this land that had their children taken away from them and placed into institutions to make them stop being a child of this tribe or that tribe. I thought about all of the things done to eradicate Black and Brown, to eradicate our languages, religions, our lives. I thought about the racism that is so deeply rooted and on full display in our country. Then I thought about the moment a white man discovers that the one drop rule does apply when it comes to the viewpoint of the ancestor realm.

    The part of me that has to navigate in a world that loves Black and Brown cultures but not our lives, laughed at the irony of a man who truthfully wanted the perceived power that he thought could be found in Vodun to heighten his own magical practice was really being called out and put to task by part of his bloodline.  The part of me that seeks healing in a world that uses the skin tone color chart to determine the haves and the have-nots is looking to egungun and Orisha for the proper steps to take to help those that discover they are Black like me when it comes to Spirit.  I’m thinking out loud, wondering and on some levels am in awe of the universe’s sense of humor.

    What a time we are living in, when one can seek out a particular thing only to discover that their journey should start at home.

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    What’s in a Name?

    In the online spiritual community, everyone knows someone who knows a person that knows someone’s cousin’s best friend’s sister that goes by a name other than their birth name.  In my case I have a few names, one is a name given to me by my parents, two names were given to me by my godfathers after my initiations, one was coined by a colleague as a term of endearment, another name is one that my children call me and the fifth name is what people who don’t like me refer to me as. I wear each name proudly as they all represent me and my unique journey.

    When I navigate the strange and most times wonderful world of the online spiritual community I am often struck by the names that people create for themselves. I’m not talking about names given to those of us who have initiated into a religion and had our spiritual names divined on or those who have business names with special meaning but, those names that people think up in a moment of brilliance or ego-laced drunkenness. Names like Oshun Twerk Goddess, Papa Big G Dipstick or Cemetery Whore usually make me shake my head but, every blue moon I come across a name that makes me wonder if the person put any thought into the meaning of their chosen spiritual name. Sister Girl is one such name that has me asking the question, ‘are you serious?’.

    When you step into the public arena and hang your shingle out as a rootworker, your name is a very big part of your identity. Choosing a coontastic name like Sister Girl is so deeply insulting that it takes a fair amount of time to realize that a Black woman purposely picked this name. A name that comes from a comedy about “the man” and racism. A name that stinks of the stereotypes Black women fight so hard against. Sister Girl what is you doing, I’m seriously asking?

    It’s bad enough that there is a worker that thinks being referred to as a Sister Girl is some how admirable. Why would a grown woman want to refer to herself as a girl in private or in public? Then there is the darker side (pun intended) to this. A “spiritual worker” who did not believe in or understand why BLM is an important movement, who has a track record of calling legit workers for free advice and has now joined an organization in which one of the heads has made known her hatred of African Traditional Religions while profiting off of Black history and dollars this person now wants to spiritually help people. Yeah right, miss me with that bullshit Sister Girl.

    Before you start questioning me and saying I am a hater, answer this questions for me, how can someone who does not understand the plight of communities of color be of spiritual assistance? How can someone with a name that is a joke or an insult, depending on the context, be taken seriously as anything? How about Sister Get Your Life Right or Sister Guide as a name instead of having a name that makes images of black-faced mammys come to mind?

    Names are important, names identify and names have meaning. How a self-proclaimed spiritual worker doesn’t understand this basic concept is beyond me.

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    As The Nganga Turns

    On last week’s episode of As The Nganga Turns, the tug-of-war between munanso Casa de Caca and House of Bud heated up when the Yaya of the House of Bud announced her engagement to the Tata of Casa de Caca. Five months pregnant and uncertain of the father, Yaya has lied and said Tata Ain’t Shit is the baby daddy even though she’s been banging the hot ngeyo in her former munanso, House of Bud.

    On the other side of town, an initiation gone wrong has left several unsuspecting new initiates fully mounted and Tata Wikipedia has hidden himself in his shrine room in the hopes that he can find an english translation of how to safely dismiss a group of spirits.

    Meanwhile, Baba turned rockstar, turned reality show host contemplates airing a live initiation from the from the top of the Empire State Building.

    Will Yaya continue profess her love for the 80 year old Tata of Casa de Caca? Will Tata Wikipedia find step-by-step instructions on how to remove spirits before they find his secret stash of 100 year old chamba? Will he find out what fula translates to in english? Will there be a live scratching on top of the Empire State Building? Tune in this week to find out?

    Lmao… I crack myself up sometimes and other times I am saddened by the real life As the Nganga Turns that plays out online and via private phone conversations. Some days the online spiritual community is rife with all kinds of drama worthy of its own 24/7 novela. As I scroll through posts and listen to the stories of those who are victims of other people’s amoral and greedy behavior, I ask myself when did spirituality get reduced online popularity contests? When did it go from growth and service to a for-profit corporation and seeing how many people one can sleep with? Perhaps I am a bit naive but I still believe that Spirit, ancestors and living our best lives possible should mean something, should be what we work towards and fight for. Despite what I see and hear, I am going to embrace, hold on and believe in the greater good and do my best to stand on good sound principles. No petty dragging, no deflections, no inflating titles, no private group texts to defame someone who has found out your shady past, no to the things that seem to dominate the spaces where seekers come to learn and network.

    If you can remotely see someone in my lamentation dressed as a funny blog post, it’s time to ask yourself some tough questions. Hopefully you cannot relate to this.

    Today is March 27, 2018 and I am, going forward, going to focus on the beauty and depth of the religions that I love and leave the soap stars of these here innanets to their own drama.