Ishangi Family African Dancers

Today we went to see the Ishangi Family African Dancers. Wonderful experience! Uplifting in every sense of the word! Generations of tradition were represented on stage- from a 12 month old (who saw no reason to not sleep during tons of drumming) to a grandmother. The children in the audience responded so well to the good advice of the sage woman, who instructed them to live their life purposefully everyday and dedicate it to God. Their voices were musical as they explained their dances; their drum beats hypnotizing, and their words so encouraging to the group of rapt 5-8 year olds. My daughters were intrigued by their movements and their outfits. I loved to see that the forms their bodies took in dance were so similar to (East) Indian dances and American Indian dances. Drumming really brings out that ancient, base emotion, completely rooting one in the moment that is played.

Here is a song that they taught us:

KYE KYE KULE


Chorus:
Kye Kye Kule

Leader:
Kye Kye Kofisa

Chorus:
Kye Kye Kofisa

Leader:
Kofisa Langa

Chorus:
Kofisa Langa

Leader:
Langa Tsi Langa

Chrous:
Langa Tsi Langa

Leader:
Kum Alele

Chorus:
Kum Alele (Repeat)

Kye Kye Kule is a popular children's play song, chanted by young people from Ghana to Zaire. Children form a circle with one child in the middle. The child in the middle performs some physical movement that the other children copy. The child in the middle changes the movement as he starts the entire song over again. The child does movements standing, and then changes to floor movements. When he does the last movement on the floor, he jumps to his feet and the last child to get up will be the next one to lead the group. The purpose of the game is to teach leadership and the ability to take instructions, or follow an example.

You will see the ISHANGI children touch their hands to their head, shoulders, stomach, and then waist. Their dance says, "Almighty God, please give us strength for our heads, clothes for our shoulders, food for our tummies, and we will dance for you."

Sick One

Over warm from sickness
Hair silky on my cheek
Clinging to me we
Rock, rock, rock, and rock
Nighttime sounds far
From our cocooned microcosm
Cushioned among pillows and soft light

Your eyes are shiny from fever
Your cheeks painfully sweet in their pink heat
Tiny hands limp in exhaustion
Be gone! I scold the sickness within you
I praise God for the time to be
Chosen for this
To hold, to love, to be here

Not flesh of my flesh
But surely heart of my heart
So mature despite your stature
Dearest little one I delight in you
I pray you understand as time goes on
My commitment forever to you
Heart of my heart

CrazyMakers

There is a book that I read once called The Artist’s Way. The book is wonderful aid to those of us who make our living and our life creating things. It contains wonderful information that I would highly recommend to anyone who needs to have access to their right brains left consistently in an “on” position. There are tools and suggestions on how to stay in the habit of making art, staying creative, and generally doing one’s life work as we artsy-fartsy ladies and gents are compelled to do.

In this book the author describes someone that many of us have in our lives. Often (and unfortunately) there may be MORE than just one of these persons. These special people are described as Crazy-Makers. Tranquil moments of peace, quiet, objectivity and creativity quite simply are not possible in the general vicinity of such individuals. These people are often blocked creatives themselves, and are basically miserable. Perhaps it is that they try and distribute their own misery as a way to lighten their load? I can only imagine the myriad of reasons we become what we become- there are many motivations and reasons, and choices that are made. Indeed, there is a certain sadness I feel for such individuals, praying often for their safety and salvation, and that they may find joy and truth in their life. To my great disadvantage I am caught in the Wheel-o’-craziness when the Crazy-Makers in my life choose to commence the insanity. Certainly there are physical or psychological barricades that might be erected at the bugle call… but I have yet to find them. Since extracting myself is impossible, I have only the choices of how I will react when the Wheel rolls perilously into my path. Since as a former democrat I can’t bring myself to own a handgun, and as a Christian there is no way that I could USE a hand gun it is not an option.

I think I have discovered why people play violent video games.

a tender shoot
breaks
the soil as it ascends
tenacious

tender warmth it seeks
gentleness
droplets of rain
nourishment

north wind descends
screeches
flattens the delicate
shock


no roots to hold
fragile
Yellow leaves
withers

Sisterhood of Women

I have always loved women. Little girls, big girls, moms, women whose grey strands show the fruit of their labors-- I love them all. I feel so privileged to know so many amazing women. I am surrounded by a treasury of gifted, beautiful women.

I love to hear the stories of women as they struggle toward womanhood through being a wife or becoming a mother or a caretaker. The beauty of these stories often comes in the similarities that the stories have with one another. A recurring theme is often digested better when given in little parts. One needs to think on them, condense and distill them. There are truths to be learned. It is encouraging to know that the path of a woman is not one that is lonely or solitary, but is rich with the footsteps of those who have traveled before us and that travel next to us. These shared experiences are not lost on me and I crave to write them down, carve them in stone so they are not lost to the next generation as they start on their path. I am often rewarded to hear the stories of those who came before me, met the obstacles that I now meet, and with a practiced and wise word advise me on how to overcome. The hard-won gems of wisdom that are passed down to me, the blessed listener. I gather them together in the vault of my mind, a treasury to be shared with others or accessed myself in times of need.

We are so blessed to be women! To bear burdens, and cares, to bear fruit and bare breasts! When I was pregnant for the first time I wondered at the amazing role I had come upon- to bear precious lives; to be entrusted with such an amazing treasure- LIFE! Just after I gave birth, a woman came to keep me company over that first week of new-mom frenzy. She held out her arms as smiling she said “Welcome to the Sisterhood of Mothers!” She gave a name to the connectedness I felt driving home with my bundles of joy- sisterhood of mothers. This sisterhood is a sustaining force for me. I long to corral all the lone moms out there not connected to her sisters battling it on her on! Come forth! God did not intend us to be Lone Rangerette. We need to hear each other’s stories. We need to hear what God has done for us again and again.

That God would allow me to help in a small part of His creation- the joy! the privilege! He also allowed me the benefit of identifying with the sisterhood of those who lost a child also. Both experiences- of bringing forth lusty life and of quietly letting life slip away within the darkness of my womb- are precious treasures to me. They are gems that I would never barter away for all gleaming, twinkling ones in the world. Some gems of wisdom are cut with edges that bite into one’s skin and leave lasting marks. I grasp them all the same. I am grateful for both experiences. It only adds to my story. One that I hope to pass down and pass on that someone else not stumble on their path.

If not for my dh I am not sure I would have such a thing as a blog. (Even the word leaves something to be desired- it sounds more like a body function, or something one might stumble upon on a hike that a thing that one would contribute to by design.) They seem to be a thing that might threaten to devour the few minutes that I enjoy in a semi-state of solitude or peace. However, here I am, drawn to this gluttonous thing, wondering who (besides dh) may ever read this, and then what would I care to share to the general world?

Of course blogging about blogging must certainly be frowned upon. And so begins a bit of revelation... in a different post.

Some days a beautiful flower can change everything... sometimes that is all a person needs: a thing of beauty to contemplate, a moment to breath in the blessings around us.

It can change everything- for the better.

Just for you...

I create such a thing as a Blog. Yikes!