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The Subtractive Power of Nia: Stop Adding, Start Stripping

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The Subtractive Power of Nia: Stop Adding, Start Stripping Tribe, we have a collective addiction, and it is keeping us weak. We’ve been brainwashed by a hyper-capitalist, hustle-and-grind culture into believing that to find your purpose, you must constantly add more to your plate. More side hustles, more titles, more obligations, more noise. We split our divine energy into a thousand different directions and then look at our lives wondering why our impact feels diluted. Today is Friday, July 10, and we are stepping directly into the golden light of the Nia (Purpose) cycle. Nia isn’t a prize you win by collecting more baggage. Nia is revealed through the via negativa —the art of subtraction. You don't need to find your purpose; you need to uncover it by scraping off the heavy, calcified layers of distraction, illusions, and the toxic baggage of blame, shame, and guilt that this society handed you. Look at the blueprint left by our Ancestors on this exact day. In 1875, Mama Mary McL...
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Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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