For what the Storm allows to remain

a little introduction to a 20 something student of life.

If you’re reading this, you’ve found the result of several assumed to be finished lifetimes all lending this iteration of a 20 something years young hot queer multicultural Black femme Californian poet, priest, and premadonna to the present moment. (I know, sounds like a lot. but that’s the fun!) Here I am! I’m currently navigating in a new city in a new time where, as much as I may have figured out, decided to “know", and attached meaning to, I have no idea what is going on. Here is a place for the current and fleeting ideas. Here is a place for what has become seemingly true and may only be true for as long as it applies. Here is a place for many attempts to solve the puzzle. Here is a place to archive all the moments that feel like magic that you just can’t make up.

If you’re wondering what brings me here, of all places.. there’s a multitude of answers. Firstly, I am a young millennial (some may argue I’m a “Z-lennial” as i’m on the cusp of millennialism and gen-z) and I grew up using Tumblr, watching tv shows about cool girls who were secret bloggers; so this is partially me living out my pre-teen/teenage angsty dreams. Thank you for helping me to do so! Secondly, I have lived a life of seeking out and being called out by sages, mystics, priests, and diviners all prophesying over my life that I have the “gift of a messenger”. They have echoed one another in multiple belief systems and schools of thought, that my purpose is to share words and that the words I share make an impact. So, if you’re here.. thanks for helping them to fulfill their prophecies.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love words and the gifts of escape, connection and broadening of perspective that they’ve given to me; but I would be lying if I said that I’m not frequently running toward or from their purpose in my life. Hence, why I have heard the same thing about my life’s mission from so many different practitioners. I’ve spent the bulk of my 20s either letting myself be used by whoever is steering this ship, to deliver a message through conversation, performance, and literary art or dodging any call to take this gift seriously. I, like many young people since the beginning of time and throughout the eras of ancient, biblical and contemporary theologies have gone through the multitude of thresholds of the “journey” of becoming my own hero.

I have fled the storms in my life and have also braved the times in which the storm has called me to stand in the eye of it and not shrink back. In both sides of such an effort, I’ve seen much come, much go and what has repeatedly stayed. There has been a ton of recovery, grief, confusion, reflection, restoration, rushes of pure and unfiltered life that have all graced me in these 20 something years, and still I find myself not knowing fully the “why”of it all. In many ways this could be why I resisted that calling on my life. I figured, who would want to hear from some young 20 something year old about what anything means? Who would look to me to find any type of divine message or guidance? I have resisted, distracted myself, and therefore limited the reach and agency of these gifts over my life. A silly little blessing blocker.

But then the storm itself spoke to me, while I held what was left of me after years of self-betrayal induced suffering. I got to a place where I had nothing to my name but the truth of who I am, a faith in something that moves me, and the love that is strong enough to remain with me even through the storm. I was deeply heartbroken only by people who followed suit of how I was dishonoring my true self, and I had no one to answer to about my resentments, but God. The storm said so very clearly, “the words will free you”. So there I was, or rather here I am.. face to face with this call, unsure of what it’s fully made of, but convinced that freedom must be on the other side. I do not wish to be seen as wise. I do not wish to replace the sound guidance of those who spend their lives training to be professionals in their own right. I do not wish to be exalted to any position or rank of prestige or power. I do not wish to be exemplary, only an example of mercy and grace. I am here to be a friend.

I am here as a friend also figuring it out, a reminder that you are not alone in trying to make this time in these bodies make sense, a homegirl that’s gonna tell it like I see it. I’m here as a sister who may have been there and done that, a daughter/child who is still curious and yearning, a lover in all the splendor that comes with that dance. I’m here to share, to question, to reflect, and mourn, and laugh. The words have always lended themselves as a salve for my heart. They’ve always filled the emptiness in which nature abhors. They’ve always accompanied me back home. My only wish is to share them with you as they’ve been so generously shared with me, in hopes to become more free and not be the only one who chooses that freedom.

If you have made it this far into this little blurb and decide to take this journey with me, I pray that it meets you where you need it. I pray that it is just a bit more sustenance to get you through. I hope it grants you an affirming, or challenging perspective. I pray that it gives you an intimate connection and fondness for the storm, for its relentless push towards change, and its ability to show you that the love and truth of who you are will always remain.

may it all be sweet,

-T

photo by Shane Sumisaki