Eternal Summer of the Black Feminist Mind

The Erotics of Activism

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16649540_10102974922019222_503531793795443873_nToday by an epic double-snowstorm change of plans, I was blessed to be at a workshop by Alexis De Veaux, called “The Erotics of Activism,” at the Whatcom Peace and Justice Center in Bellingham, Washington.   As always, Alexis De Veaux is a gift from the divine.  This workshop healed my relationship to the word activism which I had all but rejected.   Prompted by Alexis’s perfect questions, this is what I wrote today:

I am a diligent lover of my own hands, their shape and possibility.  I am learning to honr my hands by leaving them open for great parts of the day.  I am the hands my ancestors use to continue their work in this world. I am holding onto many things too tightly and it harms the health of my hands.  I am more and less than these hands, unless these hands are also stars and fins.  I love these hands by holding, touching and letting go.  I learned long ago that sometimes I have to sit on my hands and count my breaths in order to silence the overwhelm, in order to hear my sacred instructions for what to do with these hands.

My definition of the erotic is that feeling where purpose fills me up and I am at the first moment of creation and every moment of creation after that and it is all one moment and I am creation, breathing, through these hands.

I define activism as do what spirit say do in honor of my love for the people.  I define activism as move the heavens.  Use your hands.






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