Being Reborn
I returned to the United States just four days after my mother’s burial. Before leaving the homestead on January 9, 2013, I woke up early to visit her grave. There, I promised my mother that I would do all that is within my power to live by her example. I will educate my nephews, Solomon and Tawanda, and make sure they develop into good men, I told her. I will educate my own children, and I will never abandon the community that she so loved.
I was going to be guided by the sacred dream, the fifth dream, the one she helped me find myself. I shared with her my concerns about how to support all that we have undertaken until the community school, canteen, and artisan center become self-sustaining. I felt the burden of leaving my mother’s burial grounds, and I knew the journey to healing from grief was going to be difficult. I did not know how to live without my mother, the woman who had given me so much in life, my steadfast compass, always guiding me toward something greater than I was at the time.
As I was about to leave my childhood home, my mother’s sahwira advised me to shave my head bald. I laughed and reminded her I will scare people in America.
The drive from home to Harare International airport was terrible. Each tear I dropped carried the pain of my unimaginable reality: my mother is dead. Saying good-bye to my mother was utter pain. I imagined my mother being attacked by maggots as her body rots, and I could not bear the thought. I forgot about the Spirit World and the safe journey her spirit took to join her people. Depression seeped into the core of my being.
I caught a two p.m. flight from Harare International Airport to Johannesburg on my way to America. Dozing, I dreamed of my mother hovering over me like an angel. She asked me to move over so that she can sit with me. I even smelled her. When I tried to wake up, she placed a hand on my mouth to silence me. My mother told me that she is fine and that I should let her depart from this world. Then she disappeared. I woke up feeling her presence but she was nowhere to be found. Was my mind playing tricks on me? I was shaken by this experience and wondered if the depression was affecting my psyche. I cried myself to sleep, feeling unbearable sadness.
I am not sure how long I sleep but I am jolted awake by turbulence. The plane is shaking so that it feels as though we are passing through a mountain. I cannot even hear what the pilot is saying. I see fear on the faces of fellow passengers as stewardesses scramble to their seats. My neighbor tells me that the plane is lost in the jungles of Africa and that we must make an emergency landing. While there is panic all around me, I am too depressed to follow what is happening.
When the pilot’s voice returns through the intercom, he announces a problem with the engine. Passengers around me seem very upset as an unsettling noise becomes louder. The plane is to land on an island in an hour. Now, fear sets in and I wonder if my mother has been trying to warn me of what is to come.
In a complete daze, as if in a dream, we land in the middle of the night on a volcanic island in the equatorial waters of the South Atlantic Ocean. Ascension Island is 994 miles west of Angola near Saint Helena, almost 1,400 miles from the coast of South America. Closed to commercial planes, it has housed a British Army base since the Falkland War of the early 1980s. They remain a presence on the island, as do the US Air Force, the European Space Agency, and the BBC World Service.
Eventually, passengers are bused to a British Army base to await the new plane from Delta Airlines. We are assigned to various barracks until further notice. I settle into my bunk bed, appreciating the clean white sheets. Without a watch or a working cell phone, I have no way to tell time. I sleep very soundly despite all that is happening, as it has been a long time since I’ve slept on a bed with a pillow. I feel my mother’s presence. She is smiling as she tells me not to worry.
I wake up to the music of all kinds of birds on a beautiful, crisp morning. The hot shower is a luxury. As I scrub my body with soap and water, I feel like a brand-new person. Breakfast is served in a nearby mess hall. I learn that our Delta airplane had lost all power in one of its two engines.
While many passengers scurry around trying to find answers to questions that no one can answer, I take a walk. The trees and grass sway in the wind with such grace. I love the landscape, which reminds me of where I once grazed cattle. This is the first time since my mother’s death that I truly enjoy the beauty around me.
During lunch, we are told that a replacement plane will arrive in the evening. I also hear that this morning a British plane landed too close to our plane and accidentally clipped its wing on our broken plane, which is the cause of further delays. Finally, we are off. Upon arriving in Atlanta, Delta Airlines gives each passenger a gift card and a free round-trip ticket to Africa, the Middle East, or India to use within a year. I am so happy because now I can go to visit my mother’s grave.
Upon returning to my home in the States, I am haunted by the horrifying image of my mother lying in pain in the hospital. Sleep evades me, and the thoughts of my mother failing to get the medical help she needed, and how that neglect led to her death, start to bother me.
One day I get a call from my mother’s relatives, who are concerned about me. I tell them that I am having trouble shaking off my deep sadness. I can’t help but feel that I should have done more, and my guilt is eating me alive. My sister says that she feels the same. I then remember a suggestion made by my mother’s sahwira before I left, that I should shave my head.
I decide to take her advice and cut off all my hair. The long locks that I had nurtured with so much care are gone. I find that being bald and defying convention sets me free, as if I am reborn. In mourning we are reminded of our mortality and what matters most in this life. As a ritual to honor my mother’s death, my baldness is a symbolic offering to Nyadenga, the Creator of heaven and human life, and shows my grief for the departed soul. During mourning, hair on my head is an unnecessary vanity, without it I am free to mourn my mother without distraction from my bodily image. In this moment of recognizing human mortality, I am not to be defined by any physical appearance, nor by my ego. The cleanliness I feel paves the way to think only about my mother and to celebrate her life.
With a shaven head that honors my mother, I am invited to speak at the United Nations Global Compact Leaders’ Summit, “Architects of a Better World,” on September 20, 2013. This is the first time I have spoken in front of global business leaders and heads of state. I feel my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother occupying the room with me; I see their smiles of encouragement and hear their ululations as I tell the listeners in the room about how individual actions count, and urge them to invest in education and create opportunities for the poor by contributing to global priorities and the public good.
How proud my mother would be to know how far her wisdom, along with the wisdom of our ancestors, is now reaching around the globe. The tables are indeed turning. Modern society is embracing indigenous African knowledge, and women are gaining value as equals to men in many parts of the world. I savor the prospect of a future filled with opportunity and abundant possibilities.
In this moment, I celebrate my mother as I recall the day that she handed me a rusty tin can in which to bury my dreams. It’s ironic to think the very can that once held nourishment for soldiers who fought to restrict our dignity and civil rights became my vessel to nurture my sacred dreams. My mother’s words will forever echo in my mind: “See yourself as the creator of your own destiny—knowing that you have the power to shape your future and that of generations to come.”
I began this book with mothers—with my grandmother the storyteller, midwife, and seed keeper—and I end it with mothers, the living legacy of my own mother as she works through me. Why is the image of the mother so important to me and so important to awakening our sacred dreams? Why come full circle?
Remember I said I hoped to be a midwife to this awakening—not to orchestrate it or dictate it, but to support and lift up many women all over the world as they give birth to their sacred purpose, which, as many exp
erts have shown and many wise souls have advised, is a key ingredient to healing the world as we know it. As the old and recently resurfaced women’s rights slogan goes: the “Future Is Female.”
The metaphor of the midwife who serves the birthing mother is so powerful for me because it beautifully illustrates my own sacred dream. The root word of “education,” the heart and soul of all my work, is educare, “drawing out.” The etymology of this word is often traced back to Plato’s image of the teacher as a midwife.1 Similarly, Socrates preferred to call himself a “midwife of the mind” rather than a “teacher,” and he even explained to his student Theaetetus that there will be “pangs of labor” when there is “something within you which you are bringing to the birth.”2
And so, when I talk about mothers, of course I mean to make us feel a deep connection to our own mothers, the earth’s mothers, and the lineage of mothers that connects us to the ancient world, but I do not limit this word to those who have been given the title “mother” by way of child rearing. I am talking about the creative, spiritual, and cosmic birthing potential that we all possess. I am talking about being born.
I come full circle back to mothers because I know that being born, over and over again as you name and imagine and trust your Great Hunger, is important. And you will need to be a mother to yourself in this rebirth, the rising of the feminine worldwide. I also come full circle back to mothers because the awakening of your sacred dreams was never a linear path: there is no one way to start and no one way to finish, and in many ways, the end is also a beginning.
My mother gave me many beginnings: my life, of course, as well as burying my dreams, adding the fifth sacred dream, and many more—and so can her life really be said to have an end, since her vision still lives in me and in the projects we worked on together?
In this same way, you are born and born again to your purpose many times. This may be the most important thing I hope to share with you: in a world that tells women that we have an expiration date—whether it’s a certain age, a number of children, a certain position in the company, an economic status, whatever—my message to you, as your loving midwife and seed keeper, from the ancients and the poets and my mother working through me, is this: you can infinitely be reborn. The payday of love is so old, so powerful, that if you choose it, you can be the creator of your own destiny.
Always remember: you are the dreamer, the beacon, and the generous light that enables others to shine.
YOUR SACRED DREAMS JOURNEY: TEN ESSENTIALS
These ten essentials are core elements of the lessons I have learned over time. They are not a declaration of dogma, but rather a vehicle I offer for sharing insights about what helps individuals move forward. Although I did not recognize these key components and the basic questions that help elucidate them until after I had experienced them, I now appreciate the key role they have played in my life. As I reflect on others who have achieved the seemingly impossible, I identify the impact of these same factors.
There are many layers in which you can engage in these core essentials; these lessons can be revisited over and over again. You will probably find that, although for the purpose of this book they have been presented sequentially, as you deepen your journey with them, you will dip in and out of various lessons at different times. There need not be a definite beginning or end—a journey to awaken—and awaken again. Events and occurrences in your external world may trigger a deepening of certain lessons, so that you weave in and out of them with transformed perceptions or new viewpoints as you grow and evolve.
At any stage in your sacred dreams journey, it may be helpful to pick one or more of these essentials and explore the ideas and questions that follow by journaling or reflecting on them to remind yourself of your purpose, abilities, and how to overcome obstacles. Read your insights aloud, ask questions, and then explore what moves in you. You may want to freewrite or meditate on them, or you may want to use these as touchstones for conversations with your sahwira.
1. Identify Your Great Hunger
Remember that your Great Hunger is something you want to attain more than anything, and it is essential to not only keep you going but also to keep you moving in the right direction. Your Great Hunger is fueled by your soul, by your passion, and by your unique gifts and talents. It holds great promise and benefits to you and to others—your family, community, and society. As my mother said, “Your dreams will have greater meaning when tied to the betterment of your community.”
2. Recognize Your Unique Talents
The hidden power within you is waiting to emerge to help create your future. When you believe in what you have to offer and decide what matters most, then you will discover your true purpose. There are times when your talents or gifts come naturally, and you can apply them with ease to the situation. Other circumstances are more challenging and encourage you to further develop your skills. Reflect on your natural-born talents and any skills you might want to strengthen in order to achieve your sacred dreams.
3. Understand Your Fears
Or to put it another way: What gets in the way of fulfilling your dreams? Identifying and confronting your fears is the first step in relinquishing their power over you. Speak them out loud, write them down, move and dance to them. Following your Great Hunger and having faith in your unique talents will give you courage to protect your sacred dreams. Always remember that the more difficult the circumstances, the dearer the dream and the bigger the price to be paid for its fulfillment. Tenacity is what sustains you in the fight.
4. Visualize Your Future
According to Merriam-Webster, “visualization” is defined as “the formation of mental visual images,” or it’s “the act or process of interpreting in visual terms or of putting into visible form.” Derived from the Latin word “videre,” vision means “to see.” When applied to your dream, a vision is a mental image of the future that you want to create. I know firsthand the power of redefining “what is” into “what can be.” The power of creation begins with imagining or reimagining your future. You have the power to create something bigger than yourself, and, once recognized, the universe will conspire to help make it happen. This vision will be something you can always return to and reflect on for inspiration and motivation.
5. Write Down Your Dreams
This is a simple yet powerful essential that asks you to write what is closest to your heart, allowing you to develop the blueprint of the life you wish to lead. Writing is a magical tool that can make what we hope for seem more real and attainable. Writing is a vehicle for finding your voice, confronting both your past and present while healing yourself. When you write, you connect with something deep inside. Always remember: What’s written with intent becomes ingrained in your thoughts. An ingrained thought becomes a deep-rooted belief. Strongly held beliefs can help you to achieve your dreams.
6. Ground Your Faith and Belief
Positive and encouraging words, phrases, or affirmations can be an amazing tool to remind and support your sacred dream journey. Fear can get in the way of your dreams. Fear and lack of confidence can cause you to make excuses for not doing something or for not believing in your greatness. Every day, when I feel an excuse entering my thoughts, I name it and say the positive affirmation that correlates to that excuse. The more you practice listening to your sacred dreams, the more you will recognize its call. Write down the words of your affirmations. Infuse them with passion! With enough repetition and emotion, you will come to believe them. Follow your Great Hunger.
7. Cultivate Gratitude
Gratitude is the state of feeling thankful and appreciative. It’s not just that we like something that someone said or did; it’s deeper than that. Practicing gratitude fires our optimism and encourages us to celebrate the gift of life. It has even been scientifically shown to improve self-esteem, physical and mental health, and the ability to empathize. There is no stronger foundation upon which to build dreams! I encourage you to practice gratitude regularly until it bec
omes second nature. Practice gratitude for the motivation of your Great Hunger and you will feel that pull of your inner guidance even more. Practice gratitude for all that you do have, and your fears about what you do not have will fade.
8. Establish Your Sahwiras
The power to lift ourselves up by lifting each other up is at the heart of the sahwira. To succeed in achieving your dreams, you need to surround yourself or belong to a coalition of sacred sisters who believe in what drives each other’s soul without judging. It brings connection to the sister heart in all girls and women; it’s a mutually supportive relationship—play, cry, laugh, and always find meaning in the little things you do together. The sahwira relationship creates a deep connection as it widens its web of female energy, which sustains your work, family, and how you show up in the world!
9. Commit to Action
Think about what you are willing to do to achieve the specific dreams you have written down. It took me almost eight years from the day I buried my dreams to earn the equivalent of an American GED, but my efforts paid off when I got accepted to Oklahoma State University. Remember: A dream doesn’t become reality until you are willing to put in the hard work. Determination, commitment, and self-discipline are supreme to make your dreams come true. And when your dream is tied to something greater than yourself, then sweat becomes the equity for your hard work.
10. Honor the Sacred Laws of the Invisible Ladder
Opening your heart to receive and give is a two-way street. There is a sacred law of reciprocity at work here. In my case, I now realize that as others allowed me to stand on their shoulders in order to achieve my dreams, a sacred expectation had to be fulfilled. It is now my responsibility to allow others to stand on my shoulders as they seek to achieve their dreams. This is how we pass on and reciprocate the gift of humanity—an “invisible ladder”—that creates a meaningful life. Our collective empathy and responsibility toward one another is what awakens our humanity, and therefore each of us is fertile ground that nurtures, inspires, and enables opportunity and growth.
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