Showing posts with label BCP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BCP. Show all posts

Sunday, May 4, 2008

A short paper

So I'm cleaning off my desktop as I prepare for graduation (May 11th!). I found this short paper I had to write for my positive psychology class last semester. The end part--the resolution--is BS, classic stuff you gotta write to please some Hampton teachers, but the beginning definitely pinpoints where I was, spiritually, at the time.

Much has changed, I feel.

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Positive Psychology
November 13, 2007

When I took the Brief Strengths Test last September on a website called “Authentic Happiness,” I was not surprised to learn that my top five strengths were identified to be “forgiveness and mercy,” “creativity,” “curiosity,” “love of learning,” and “kindness.” I believe that I display each of these traits fairly well and fairly consistently. I was very surprised, however, to learn that my lowest strength – out of a possible 24 – was considered to be “spirituality.” Even though I have eschewed most mainstream forms of organized religion for the past five or so years, and had wavered between agnosticism and atheism in the past year, I had always thought that I was a reasonably spiritual person.
To me, spirituality was not necessarily about taking part in rituals that expressed the mainstream conception of divinity as being separate from and above creation, but it was about recognizing the absolute interdependence between all things in the universe (and beyond, if there is anything beyond this universe). It was about the understanding that we are all connected to one another, despite any facades of difference we might express on this plane. Ever since I had given up the regular practice of Islam, the religion that I was born into, my spiritual journey had included reading books by Alice Walker – my favorite author on the matter – trysts with the I Ching , astrology, crystals, dream catchers, and the Buddha. “I’m always contemplating on how I am functioning in the wheel of samsara ,” I thought to myself. “What d’ya mean that my lowest strength is spirituality?”
The Brief Strengths test identified “spirituality” as “religiousness,” “faith,” and “purpose.” It was easy for me to see how the religiousness factor did not fit into my life, but it was much harder for me to admit that over the years, my sense of faith, direction and purpose had slowly been eroding. Even though I had collected a sizeable number of sound bytes to explain my spiritual orientation to anyone who inquired (“I try to be more spiritual than religious” or “I believe in the all”), in actuality my spirituality was much more a function of intellectual processes than something deeply felt. Though I professed to be a spiritual being, in truth, I had been feeling deeply abandoned by any and all things spiritual. “If this spirit stuff was really true, then whoever or whatever allowed for my existence wouldn’t allow me to feel so unworthy, so unloved, and so lost in the world,” were my most secret thoughts. After reflecting on the test and the ensuing emotions, I wondered why I felt so inferior so much of the time. In an attempt to get to the heart of the matter, I decided to be open to any spiritual instruction that might come my way to open my heart and change these destructive beliefs.
About a couple of weeks ago, a few of my friends held an event called “BCP Breaks it Down: a General Introduction to Alternative Consciousness.” At one point, all of the participants meditated to a tape of positive affirmations from a company called “Think Right Now.” This may sound cheesy, but the meditation proved to be just the medicine I needed. I noticed an immediate shift in my thought patterns, and my acceptance of the one spirit that I believe pervades us all. I have read in many psychology texts, including a text by Dr. Williams, that positive affirmations and meditation are useful tools on the road to radical self-acceptance and self-esteem (which may be understood as a facet of spirituality since it is all about one’s sense of purpose). How true I have found this to be! I now meditate to the tapes regularly, and I am finally on the path to feeling, and not just thinking, spirituality. I’ve finally realized that it’s something that takes willful practice, and not just intellectual acknowledgement. Hopefully the next time that I take the Brief Strengths test, I’ll score a little higher on the spirituality aspect.

Friday, January 25, 2008

I went to New Orleans

And I saw the drastic differences between the levees in the French Quarter and the Lower 9th ward.

I went to New Orleans and I cried and laughed and smoked three joints out of loneliness and connectedness and spiritual awakening and exhaustion.

I went to New Orleans and I wondered if I could ever feel so in love with an experience, a place, an entity again?

I went to New Orleans and I sometimes thought that I would die from the weight of the hatred aimed with precision at my people.

I went to New Orleans and learned that alcohol splits spirit from body, and you break tides when the pain threatens to paralyze your capacity to feel.

I went to New Orleans and sipped a daquiri ate a po'boy and held onto the rope of Allah.

I went to New Orleans and poured secret libation to my Nana.

I went to New Orleans and knew that I resurrected Christ everytime I felt hope or broke down a wall.

I went to New Orleans and the word nigger-excuse me, it hurts to repeat-rained down on me, threatening to shatter my glasses and leave me blind and groping.

I went to New Orleans and a voice I didn't know I had overcame me and I sang a chorus until my voice went hoarse, then I rested and sang again.

I went to New Orleans and I couldn't talk.

I went to New Orleans and photographed the edges because the center was something I wanted to submerge myself into completely-camera free-with empty hands and open arms, and it was a relationship I wished to keep between me and my mind's eye.

I went to New Orleans and couldn't understand why I wasn't there earlier.

I went to New Orleans and worshiped trees from a rooftop.

I went to New Orleans and acutely needed physical contact to remind me that I was still a point in space-time, even though I wasn't.

I went to New Orleans and thought about family members I didn't know.

I went to New Orleans and wondered where my sister was?

I went to New Orleans and loved more deeply than before, but there were still barriers to cross.

I went to New Orleans and perspective slapped me high across the face.

I went to New Orleans and thanked God(dess) over and over for my parents, and their parents, and their parents. Cousins aunties and uncles. People long passed and people still waiting to break through into this dimension.

I went to New Orleans and was taller than I was, and bigger than I was perceived.

I went to New Orleans and I gave the force of all my strength, and my femaleness did not matter in the giving, just my heart.

I went to New Orleans and reorganized my life, thought again about what I value and why.

I went to New Orleans knowing full well that one journal entry or song or poem or painting or clay figurine or carving could not possibly hope to contain all that was, all that is, all that will be.

I went to New Orleans and I absorbed. I took in. I expanded. I bore witness. I broke bread. I prayed to mother Africa I opened up to sunlight I made love to air I breathed self into existence god(DESS) said Be and I was.

Then the space-time stand-in for me left New Orleans. Yet having touched ground once I remain forever connected, understanding that spirit will continue to call me back. And I will answer. And I will carry New Orleans with me wherever I go. And I will find New Orleans in every experience I have. And I will live where they would have me die, find sustenance where they would have me starve, and shatter walls they would have me believe would imprison me forever. I will crowbar I will shout I will birth I will resurrect until I find my way.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

I've been away.



I've been away for a long time--for the past week, I was in New Orleans doing some volunteer work with a group (Black Campus Progressives- have I ever mentioned BCP?) that I belong to at school. It was an AMAzing experience. Didn't really have access to a computer though there were definitely times that I really wanted to blog or paint or make a really long poem though I don't typically write poetry.