Jim Trainer

Made Of What We Lost (an urban Journey through the Chakras) by Maleka Kay Fruean

In Uncategorized on June 4, 2012 at 10:45 am
1) Muladhara (the Root Chakra): 
I remember you climbing up to the upper platform, your hands outstretched, standing silent. You had just lost your father, and there was music all around you, a keg opened, and you stared at everyone, your pain on your skin. I remember how you told me “if you don’t believe in god, then you’re all alone out there in the world” and I remember thinking, what is my foundation?  What do I come home to? We sat in that house with no heat, trying to find our home within ourselves, taking care of animals and men and women and all the while trying to find the warmth, inside blankets or arms, inside the absences. My hair four different colors, with the dark brown roots always showing.

2) Swadhistana (the Sacral Chakra): 
I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
– James Baldwin

3) Manipura ( the Solar Plexus Chakra):
Learn how to digest. Take in the news, the belittling speeches by your Ethiopian boss at the bar telling you “you’re not special”, the half-rotten tomatoes that you still eat because there is nothing else in what your friend Diya refers to as your “rainbow kitchen”. It means you’re broke and the gas bill is due and the electricity bill is due and the rent is due and the cat is shitting next to the turquoise baseboards, and you need to learn how to take it all in. Let your gut expand. Go to the first yoga class in your life ($5.00 at the Wise Women’s Center) and come back ready to take out the trash, ready to eat kale and drink fresh water. Let your ribcage open two inches and place your hidden words inside. 

4) Anahata (the Heart Chakra): 
the tattooed mess, the ex-boyfriends, the man who did the chicken dance, the republican cuban, the girl who called me hot box, the emcees, the boy who was afraid to tell his mama about girls, the skateboarder, the film student, “you were nicer when you first moved to this neighborhood”, the musicians, the man who sounded like sublime, “you look hotter than any girl in this west philadelphia party”, the art student, the alcoholics, the sad poet, the married kenyan, the man who read flannery o’connor stories every night, “just look at her, because i think she is the definition of joy”…. love love love love love 


5) Vishuddha (the Throat Chakra): 
One day, while trying to order sandwiches with her not-boyfriend, her throat seized up, and she choked on words. She could not even speak to the man at the deli, couldn’t say the simple phrases “cheese hoagie, please” (because she was exploring the idea of not eating meat), couldn’t even excuse herself. It was there, at that dump of a deli in upper darby that she realized her words were meant for more than this, for more than staying silent during boxing matches and speaking up during parties, for more than asking men if they were going to ever call back, for more than waiting in between the ignorance. He stared at her muteness, and ordered a turkey sandwich for her, while she glared at his ice blue eyes, ready to scratch another tattoo onto his throat, “I am” …. taking a deep breath and listening to the old brag of her heart, “I am, I am, I am…”

6) Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra):
The wooden floors creaked, in late night talks, in intimacy, in insomnia. I think we each knew it would end. 
Because our intuition was blocked with carbon monoxide. 
It was blocked by the noise of the pitbull puppy, chained to the neighbor’s upstairs deck, for three days, crying for food and water. 
It was blocked by our lack of sleep, our abundance of cheap hamburger. 
It was blocked by the smell of sweat, mixed with frustration, a sense of moldy dust, tobacco, and herb creeping into the corners.
It was blocked by what was unsaid.
It was blocked by what was undone.
We are still finishing the chores.

7) Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra): 
I prayed to God that night. I thought I saw a white light, an illumination, through the hole in the floor. 
He said to me, “I’m just waiting to see the light in you.”
It had burned down to nothing for months and months, anchored to loss.

 I left that house with a mission.  I give thanks for everything I lost there.

It’s five dimensions, six senses
Seven firmaments of heaven to hell, eight million stories to tell
Nine planets faithfully keep in orbit
With the probable tenth, the universe expands length
The body of my text possess extra strength
Power-liftin’ powerless up, out of this towerin’ inferno 

-Mos Def
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