a black girl

It began with a clap

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Today, a beautiful torrential rainstorm showed herself to me and all of the DC Metro area.

I hadn't gotten one since my life in Atlanta. I hadn't realized how much I missed them. How the energy is all woman, all powerful, all awe inspiring.

She began with a clap.

As if to say, "Sister, you have been in the house all day for three days. Have not enjoyed the hot weather you've prayed for. The sun on your face and back. You have not sat to witness the beauty of a day." My living room darkened.

So I stopped.

I stopped from my cleaning and CD playing. I turned everything down. Put the screensaver on the laptop (which happens to be a storm simulation) and sat in the big momma chair by the window to witness.

Would you think I am odd if I could sense the whole weight of her body moving across the sky?

It was at her belly at which I realized the storm was passing. As Nia hopped onto mine, I thanked her (the storm that is). Breathed deeply and watched my living room illuminate.

The thing about torrential rainstorms is that you *know* they will pass. You can hear it, feel it. The violence of them, the unpredictability.

Now I'm no priestess of any spiritual system, but I wanted to give her a name. I know in Ifá there is Oya, who is known for her unpredictability, change, but in winds. Her husband Shango is known for lightening, thunder and the like...

Yaweh, Jehova, too masculinized, to general for the very specific-ness of this storm's presence.

Again... I'm no priestess, but this storm was a sista. And it has nothing to do with the unpredictability of a woman. There was a way in which we communed which was much like the way I talk with many women. Especially ones a little older than me--very real, but deep in reverence.

When she clapped it was very much the way I hear my mother's voice call before she has uttered anything. I knew she was here before she came. And I knew she had a bone to pick... with me.

I'm learning to listen. Before the clap.

Labels: gender, religion, spirituality, summer, weather