Clicking fingers enveloped in hmm’s, fuh real’s and talk it’s
Current events, spiritual awakenings and city living be familiar targets
Eclectic fashion, headwraps and converse,
mismatched earrings and many piercings but it all works
A club, a basement, or the relic of an old church
We break bread together in the name of the word
Some of the best days and nights of my life took place in settings like this. Where explored our existence betwixt loose lips.
And it was magic. Unsustainable magic. A hit of verbal elixir that would serve you until the next meeting. I honour those days. I honour the experiences, the relationships the laughter, the blessings and the lessons. However… deep down inside there was something that was never fully congruent with the entirety of my being. And that is that I wanted to do more. I desired for the work that took place in those gatherings to have life off the stage (or page). The work that I am talking about is healing.
Some who perform poetry may strongly disagree with where I am about to go. That’s ok. Diversity makes the world sexy! Anywho. Let me back track. Since my early 20’s I have been consciously engaged with transformational healing. From Creative Art to Reiki to Purpose Mentoring. For a good portion of that time I was heavily involved in the London poetry scene where I would make some interesting observations that impacted my journey greatly. Poets were performing healings!
They were holding spaces like that of pastors and preachers whilst using the gift of spoken word in a cathartic energy exchange. I watched as these word-healers gave their audiences transmissions that ignited their passions, soothed their hearts and warmed their souls. Some could argue that it wasn’t that deep but I would attest that I wasn’t alone with my observations. Let’s take some popular back in my day event names ‘Urban Griots’, ‘Soul-Food‘ and ‘Kindred Spirits’ to name a few! There is so much to say about these extraordinary events but that’s a whole other blog post 😉
What I will highlight however, is what would happen when some of the magical events ended. People would sit (or stand or lie down) and talk and process and dream and process the magnitude of what had activated within them. Both audience members and performers alike. Many a time I found myself outside a venue in the cold seeing my breath as we huddled in groups continuing discussions about topics and feelings raised in the words that had been shared on stage. And then we’d go home.
And there’s nothing wrong with that per se except for when you find out that people in that huddle silently suffered with depression or didn’t feel like they were enough; performers who gave so much battling anxiety or substance abuse. Why? Why was this happening? If they were just involved in healing processes why were they going away unhealed? Consciousness. Many of us weren’t consciously and/or fully aware of what was taking place.
I made an earlier comparison between the poet and the preacher. But the preacher knows she is a preacher, the pastor knows he is a pastor, but the poet thinks that they’re simply the poet. And yet they hold energy more than that of ‘simply a poet’. They haven’t been prepared to hold that energy. And when the mic goes down and the audience goes home the poet is left with that energy. What does one do with that energy? You see the priest was trained for this. She knows what she must do. She knows how to transmute energy released in healing. But the poet. The poet is being initiated into her sacred healing art but there is no one to mentor this process. It is unfamiliar. It hasn’t been recognised for sometime and so by default the poet can hold onto this energy. Sometimes they try to drink it, smoke it, fight it, freak it or eat it away.
And it wasn’t just the poets. Audience members too! For they mirrored the poets. I would argue that what one consumes in the name of entertainment has some resonance with some aspect of themselves. Yikes! Yeah I wrote that out loud. I can hear ‘Love Island’ watchers and ‘Stephen King’ fans protesting greatly. I am not saying that people are the same as the ‘art’ that they consume but I am simply proposing that there is some connection. In the case of those who attend these poetry events many of them performed healings to. Healings disguised as social work, project management, teaching, youth work, waitressing and so on. They came to poetry and received healings and went to their ‘jobs’ and gave.
So why am I framing this like there is something wrong? The poet heals the audience, the audience heals at work and thus the energy appears to be flowing. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t because the energy exchanges weren’t right. They were out of balance…
END OF PART ONE
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