Changes, Changes

Inspired by Judith Gleason's Oya: In Praise of An African Goddess, I've put together a humble ode to one of the Yabas, or triad of Yoruba goddesses who survived transplant to the West, the fearsome one Oya/Iansa.

There are many spellings of her name, and depending on the vantage point the name might change all together. Some know her as Lady of Candelaria, Buffalo Woman, Sekhmet, Neb-het, Kali or Artemis. However you spell it, whatever one calls it, the energy is the same and it seems to speak directly to the (st)age we are now hobbling our way through.

I have much more to say about Oya being a kind of poster girl for the winds blowing across continents and shaking things up from where we stand to as far as the eye can see. Except, I promised myself that I wouldn’t meander too long online. So I’ll post the rest of my thoughts once I work through them. For now, I'll call out my salutation and toss my copper coins.


Oya, The Tempest

Lady of storms with sword in her hand
Dares all to guess where her blade will land.
She cuts away illusion, gets down to the core
Revealing those things that lay hidden before.

Great House mistress, Life’s keeper of keys
She tears, she rips, then sweeps away the debris.
This red woman walks with a thunderous step.
She twirls on the cusp of this life and the next.

She gallops, she rides about on horseback
With flowing skirt of rainbows, swift wind at her back.
Iyansan, the mother of nine daughters and sons
Ushers in the new day when the old one is done.

New Day

(Wednesday, 5 November 2008)

Jared and I woke up at about 6:45 this morning. He'd fallen asleep in the car at about 6 p.m. on our way back from running errands and slept through the night, waking up only to have a couple rounds of milk. So, he was up and at 'em before the sun came up.

One of the first things I did after dragging (or, more accurately, being dragged by a two year old) out of bed was to was hurry to turn the television to CNN to find out the election results. Any who know me are aware that news as a backdrop to my morning routine is a-typical for me.

My grandma Maggie followed a regular news watching regimen: one broadcast of the local broadcast followed by one dose of the national news. On Sundays there was 60 Minutes (which later became somewhat bearable to me because of the suave, intelligent and handsome Ed Bradley.) Grandma tuned in to the news as faithfully as she did her soaps, or "stories," and The Price Is Right. My mother has a similar inborn reverence for news and can take in an entire paper in a day, extracting and absorbing all of the key stories from it, a feat which leaves me awestruck. For my family watching news ranks high among one's civic duties and is the best way to keep informed.

I did not inherit this trait. My general aversion to news comes from its heavy emphasis on conflict, horror, negativity with little given in the way of solutions or hope. As a child, news either bored me to no end leaving me with a dull throbbing headache, frightened me or both. We live in a news-on-steroids era very different from the time when it was relegated to one hour segments scheduled at the beginning or end of the day. I find the endless repetition, the hype, the ticker tape that slides across the bottom of the screen to be too much. I'm much more of a big picture, historical context kind of gal. For me, stories must maintain optimism as well as retain the personal narrative.

Today was different, though. The endless stream of news about the Obama victory was a welcome refreshment. I had the chance to get my fill and still get breakfast cooked, lunches packed, clothes ironed, baby and self washed and groomed and stand in front of the TV for five minutes here and two minutes there as the news cycled back to the parts I missed.

In the coming weeks, I will probably be watching more news than I have ever cared to. When listening to the Obama victory speech today, I was moved to tears because he seems to mean what he says. I search Obama's poetic oratory for the truth and sincerity that has helped him win the trust of so many. He's talking loud, and as far as I can tell, saying something. Who knows what the the Great Change that Barack Obama promises will look like in the final analysis. I agree with the many who say that the most important change might not even be overtly political, but could lie most strongly in his reminding people about what is possible to acheive. Obama is waking up people's spirits in a way that reminds me of this amazing video for the song Sun Moon Child.

The main point of this post was supposed to be my linking to an open letter that Alice Walker wrote to Barack Obama, and so I want to make sure to conclude with that. Like Mama Alice, I often think of Obama's family-- the brilliance of Michelle and the legacy that Barack will leave to his children. I wonder about the way that his power and position will both positively and negatively affect his family. I think of the demands that will be placed upon Obama's mind, body and spirit. I pray the best for them and us all.

That said, I think I'm gonna turn off the radio and TV news broadcasts. No additional posts or e-mails about the election. At least not for today. I've had my fill, and life continues. There's work to do. Tomorrow's another day.

What a Bad Card

From time to time, I tune in to the televised theatre, that is to say the news carnival that alternately seems to applaud and want to obliterate the mere hope for change that the Obama campaign speaks of. It's funny how they're grabbing for anyone within reach-- Obama's minister, his dog, his third grade substitute teacher-- with the idea that this will pull down the senator and slow his advance.

And it very well could. Who knows.

What I can say is that even if Obama goes no farther than he has gotten at this writing he has traveled so much further than any of us could have imagined. And though his voice contained some tentative and uncertain notes in the beginning, it has grown stronger as the race has gone on. He has acted with intelligence and integrity when his hand was forced, and in that old tradition of "speaking truth to power" has been courageous enough to give voice to things that some would imagine are better left unsaid. For this he gets much respect.

I recently heard some politician say, half-jokingly, that a presidiential race is as much about music as it is about platforms. (Funny that only when tied to politics, and of course profit, is Art deemed to have any worth, that some folk come to recognize it's power and usefulness...but that's kind of beside the point). Obama's folks have made good musical choices that make you want to snap your fingers and wiggle your backside, because you remember. McFadden & Whitehead's "Ain't No Stopping Us Now." Stevie's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered." Songs with meaning. And yeah, Soul doggonit.

Wouldn't it be something, though, if their selector were to spin that old Impressions song "We're a Winner" or that one little piece-a tune called "Bad Card" by our brother Bob (big grin + wink an' chuckle):

You a-go tired fe see me face/Can't get me out of the race/Oh, man, you said I'm in your place.../Propaganda spreading over my name;Say you wanna bring another life to shame/Oh, man, you just a-playing a game...