Shanti Shanna Limón
Sunday 2 April 2023
5 Day 100 Word Stories Challenge
Sunday 5 June 2022
The Unk and the Ants Unite: A decolonial tale of death
Tuesday 8 March 2022
In-Circle me with Wombs
Wednesday 16 February 2022
The (love) songs we sing - part 3
Of course, this is my 111th blog post. Numbers, always with the numbers. And this is part three of my lunaversary, anniversary, valentine's day trilogy tribute.
Today is my and my Beloved's 39th lunaversary. What is a lunaversary, you are wondering? Our love was consummated as the five days in February came near their end. We were in a Kamloops motel after driving through a snowstorm with all-season tires on the Coquihalla. It was February 19th of 2019, we could drive no further, and a young woman delivered our pizza. I had never thought about the fact that perhaps every other pizza that had ever been delivered to me was delivered by a man, until the contrast of opposites stood smiling at me through the motel door. But I digress. We haven't even had our first kiss yet and here I am jumping ahead. To make a short idea long and complex, we celebrate each full moon, sometimes with a kiss, a mention, a foot rub. Earlier on, more often, with flowers, gifts (rainbow themed ones), cakes... 39 moons of loving.
I wrote this poem for my love today. Unedited, with baby at my feet, in about ten minutes (it could use some work):
For you, on our Lunaversary
Tuesday 15 February 2022
The (love) songs we sing - part 2
Before we get to the part where we go on our first date all the way to the pacific ocean, which was sort of our third date, let me tell you about our first date, an afternoon coffee...
It was freeeeeeeezing. February something, I can't remember for sure. I had decided that I should be friends with a man, someone that felt safe and that could restore my faith in the notion that men are safe to be around. I remember the texts, I remember rolling around on the floor of my third story subsidized apartment after writing: "Well, I guess you could see me sooner if you asked me to go for coffee or something." I didn't know then of his oppositional tendencies. He never did ask, he asked what days would work for that and then I followed up with the actual: "How about..." was it a Wednesday?
We went to a place near the river, just in case we wanted to incorporate a nice walk, but, the freezing. I arrived first, ever the punctual rooster, and he appeared not too much later carrying a water bottle filled with NGW. I thought it odd when he refilled his tea with water from it (how could cool water re-steep a tea bag?). Now I agree that it is much safer to drink steam distilled water. But the more remarkable thing about the bottle was that it said "Nathan" on it. It was purple. I had not long before prayed to Creator holding the Eagle feather that had belonged to my brother-in-law's brother. I prayed hard, crying, praying for my Beloved to be sent to me. The feather of Migizi had belonged to Nathan.
I felt shivers when I saw the name. Of course, I didn't tell him. I don't think it is advisable to reveal that our love is fated to be on the first coffee. He spoke though, telling that he saw an Eagle on the drive over, flying just over the graveyard on 107ave while Bob Marley asked him: "Could you be loved?" over and over through his car speakers. Eagles. Nathan. I needed very obvious signs from the universe to break free from fear.
I feel it has taken at least three years of sometimes struggle, having me hum while the words "nobody said it would be easy" while I hear him bursting with "I still want the hard life!" to reach the point of really knowing, deep in my bones, that: "Love will lift us up where we belong, where the Eagles cry."
Monday 14 February 2022
The (love) songs we sing - part 1
Three years ago today I texted a simple "Happy Valentine's Day" to my beloved one, but we hadn't done more than touch shoulders while watching a film at this point. I suppose he fell in love with me when I slid into second base 7 years before our first coffee meeting, but I didn't know that for a long time. My first reaction upon meeting him and playing on his ball team for the weekend was one of curiosity: "Why the strange moustache and mismatched sock pulled up so high?" And still, something about the way he walked drew my Spirit near; I now recognize it is the powerful connection he maintains with Spirit as he walks that first had my outer cells orbiting towards him, unbeknownst to my psyche at the time.
I was in my office at the U of A when I texted the Hallmarkian capitalist greeting. He responded with some facts about St. Valentine, maybe it was something about relics and where Mr. Valentine's skull is held, I can't quite recall. After the shoulder touching incident I awoke craving him next to me. "For fuck's sake!" I chastised myself, for my intention had been to have a male friend. Nothing in my conscious thinking mind wanted a relationship, not after the hell I had been through, a hell from which I narrowly escaped. But escape I did! And I was practicing sinking deep into my body to listen to the wisdom there. So safe to stay in the body, such truth to be accessed.
The next day, on February 15th, 2019, I dropped my little T-man off at daycare. I had somehow managed to have 5 days of childlessness in a row ahead of me, and with no work after 3pm. I sat in the Kia a moment behind the old McCauley school. "Body?" I breathed deeply, wiggling toes and squeezing butt cheeks together to bring my traumatized self back inside of me. "Body, if we could go anywhere, where would we go?" The dissociation of body from self was still rather obvious. The answer came quickly. "The ocean, of course." Is that possible, I wondered? I guess so. "And with whom?" Why with Timothy, of course. Oh no...no, no.
The impulsivity. Body is texting. Stop it fingers! What are you doing?...click. Send. "Do you want to go to the ocean with me?" I wrote it. I sent it. And then I began to buzz with a mania that is almost unparalleled in my experience. Now the waiting...except I barely waited at all. Almost instantly he replied: "I can be ready by 4pm." Oh no oh no oh no, what have I done? I am terrified of loving and being loved, more than ever I am scared of this. And yet, my body, the universe, life, the ancestors, the beloved dead...they are all guiding and blessing this union, orchestrating this moment...
Tuesday 11 May 2021
"What is in a name?" Miinan Emma Star
Each of us is called something. Many times we identify more with a nickname, a second name or even a mononym (like Madonna).
As a parent to three beautiful children, I must say that listening for their names to come was one of the greatest honours of my life. I heard Xavier's name whisper to me while my bare-feet were walking through the deep dark topsoil of our family garden when I was 13 years old. It took me holding Terran in my arms, feeling his earthy weight, to hear his name come. And now a sweet, special girl has also come through me to dance and to play, to love and to pray upon this beautiful Earth.
My partner is Anishnaabe. He said, quite early on, that our baby would have an Anishnaabe name. I felt that this statement was true. Yes, she will. I do not speak the language of my partner's people, but I do hope to learn as much as is meant for me to learn. So, once in awhile, I would do some looking. There are online dictionaries and sources. Eventually I stumbled on The Ojibwe People's Dictionary, an excellent resource that includes the voices of Elders speaking words, as well as full sentences. We also consulted with Elders from my partner's community in Ontario to be sure of pronunciation and so as not to rely on an internet source.
My Grandma Mina was such a special person in my life. When people ask me who my hero is, I tell them that my Grandma is my hero. She was still alive when Xavier was born. We went to see her in the hospital pretty much every day. She would hold him and say, "And now you wonder what you ever did without him." She died about 3 months after he was born, 3 days before my birthday.
After she passed away, I knew that I wanted to honour her if I ever had a baby girl. I was thinking second name maybe, who knows. So, as baby came closer and closer, I wondered if I searched up her name, maybe just maybe there would be an Anishanaabe word associated. Then I found Miinan. Miinan means blueberries. I got shivers all over my body. My grandmother LOVED picking blueberries. I mean, she literally was willing to stay in the forest with a mama bear and her cubs to keep on picking. Her and her sister would get stuck in ditches and drive great lengths just to find a good patch. I dare say that her favourite thing to do in the whole wide world was probably picking blueberries.
When baby girl twirled out into this world, she just has the most beautiful perfect little face. She is SO beautiful and cute. Maybe the first evening home, my Beloved said, "She kind of looks like my Coco." I asked, "What was her name?" He told me it was Emma. I said, "I love that name. It is such a sweet name." So we had her second name. Our two Grandmothers honoured together but with Miinan having her own special name too. I only recently remembered that my great-grandmother was also called Emma. The Matriarchs. The Grandmothers! Bringing Peace, Harmony, Love and Wisdom <3
And, of course, Star. Maybe we are all Star children, that is what my partner believes based on stories from his culture. But I know that Miinan is a brilliant Star baby. She has been waiting so patiently to come, talking to me and guiding me for years now. And now she is here!!
Her last name is a balance of masculine and feminine lineages. A hyphenated way forward that I hope we can all achieve, the yin and the yang. The Divine Feminine and the Divine Masculine dancing Heart to Heart, side by side, in a world where we choose to base our actions always on Love rather than fear.