In The Face of Fear: Ancestors

During my #InTheFaceOfFear workshop one of the suggestions I offer is working with your Ancestors.

My Ancestor practice had been dismal until 5 years ago and I am still very much growing into it and with it.

This can be a hard thing to do.

Some of us are cut off from our Ancestors. Genocide, the erasure effects of white supremacy, internal family violence/rejection/ abandonment are real cock blockers when it comes to forging these powerful bonds.

That’s where healers like Luna Pantera come in. As the queer, gender non binary offspring of an outcast I figured my ancestors would haaaaaate me or at least be disappointed.
I was so wrong.

Luna helped me locate Elevated Ancestors to work with to heal my lines.
One of the questions posed to me by a white participant in the class was how to work with Ancestors they are not proud of. Ancestors that have done harm.

I realized that this is probably why white people doing liberation work keep calling on Harriet fucking Tubman #stopit

It’s your job to heal those lines
Accept the shit storm.
You benefit directly from your racist ass Ancestors.
Work with a Healer and also do tangible “on this plane” world work like making donations to the Ancestor Descendant of people who they harmed in their names.
Ask those Ancestors to provide the funds for it even.

But work with them.
If possible work with a Healer, a Therapist or Community Support because it can be intense and bring up a lot of shit.

Proceed with intention and caution!

I’ve found through this engagement that I am not the only one who was queer, who was witch, who was against the grain, who was team guardrail. I’ve learned to value my Mighty Dead, to hear them, to fight with them, to love them.

And I’ve learned that I am dearly loved by them too.


Connect to Luna Pantera on Facebook or via email at

Oregon Day 2: Digging The Hole

The waves were glowing in the dark as they broke across the sands
My bare feet followed the path through the rustling grass. It grew higher with every step. Pulling at the hem of my dress

Aren’t you afraid
A voice said


Aren’t you going to turn away
A voice said


There was cacophony between my ears. As loud as it was when I was a child. Several beings speaking at once.
Some saying Don’t! Turn Back! Stop!
Others saying Trust us! You can be afraid but you must trust us!

As the ground below me dipped I reached out. Blind with out my glasses. Impeded by the night. I trusted. I gripped the earth and it gripped me back.
Delivered me gently to the sandy shore.

I started digging
Frantically, fanatically, desperately
Crying and screaming

I’m tired
I don’t know what’s next
I don’t want to die
This hurts so much
I’m so broken
I’m so broken
I’m so broken

I wailed into the hole until words dissolved into gutteral and keening songs

For once my throat let me
Loosened so I could push it out

Take this please!
Transform this please!

When I was done covered the hole
Instantly embarrassed for showing up at Their house without an offering to give.

When I rose up with apologies on my lips I was pulled back down.
My belly filling the space my tears once had
I was prostrate
Screaming again through a mouth full of sand

My brothers were there then
Telling me to keep going
Telling me that I was loved
Telling me that I was not alone
Telling me that the fires in the sky were my home and my people

I shifted as some thing moved into mr
kicked me twice like a knocking from the inside.

I sat up with legs spread open
Knees bent
Felt like labor
I began to laugh and sigh and say ow! As I held their arms for support.

The grief and fear and rage had been transformed and given back to me. Clay I could shape into something new.

They blew blessed tobacco on my feet, my palms, my heart, my head, my thighs, my womb. I took a lung full of it and kissed it into the sand.

They wrapped me in a blanket
And our fingers intertwined as we watched the ocean glow under a sky full of stars.

Then we,
Whole and Beautiful
took the dark path back into the light



Oregon Day 1

Slowing down has made me realize how deeply exhausted and deeply fucked I am right now

I’ve been moving big energy for people
I’ve been making big asks for other people’s benefit
I haven’t factored myself into the equation (again)

I’ve got two days here and then it back to the grind. I’m lucky to have this. I want to focus on the gratitude but I can’t stop myself from wanting to cry.

My throat hurts from not screaming
The last month has seen
big rituals that cost me dearly to preform
stepping away from an 11 relationship that cost me dearly to be in
the loss of a place to work and the income that comes with it

I’m not okay
I know I’m going to be but right now I am not okay.

I’m tired
I’m underprepared
I’m overwhelmed

I need help.

All of this is bigger than me.
All the work I’m doing is bigger than me and I need help.

But first I need to cry and scream
then I can figure out what that looks like
then I can ask.

How are you?

We were outside of a theater when it happened.

“How are you?” popped out of my mouth. It’s a common courtesy. Something we say without thinking and to be honest often without feeling.

When they asked “Can I be honest with you?” I looked them directly in their eyes and gave my consent for an authentic exchange.

They weren’t okay.

The information they trusted me with allowed us to discuss how I could hold them in a way that was safe for us both.

Actually someone just knowing how they really were was 90% of what they needed.

This interaction changed me I started answering honestly when people asked me “How are you?”

So much so that I don’t get asked that much anymore.
I win?😅


Sometimes when people ask that question I laugh and say how loaded it is.

Sometimes I say that I want to say I’m fine but the truth is that I am a fat Black queer witch coming to the end/beginning of a spiritual journey and (insert name of recent Black person executed by the police state here) was murdered so many weeks/days/hours ago. So do you want an honest answer or can we continue with what we came here to do?*

As a caretaker and assistant to a person’s healing process I thought this level of honesty would be a problem, that my clients would find me messy or lacking.

It’s had the opposite reaction.

My clients have seen it as a strength.

My clients have identified with it.

My clients have trusted me to move big energy with them because I am in it WITH them.

If anything it’s opened discussion on self care techniques.

It’s made me Spiritually and Physically put my “oxygen mask on first”.

It’s helped me work from a more honest place within myself.

It’s helped them open up to me so we can engage in vunerable, shifting catharsis that is beneficial to us both.

When I ask “How are you?” I mean it.

I lean in when I ask it.

I make eye contact.

I want to know.

It’s an invitation for others to share their humanity with me. I think this is the original intention of the phrase. To see each other. I think that’s gotten lost in the social niceties.

I don’t go in much for social niceties anymore. But that’s a discussion for another time.

*Always give em an out😉

If you’re making fun of people dealing with PG&E Power shut offs right now you deserve to feel every carpal & metacarpal of a cosmic bitch slap

The answer is no.

PG&E will not remiburse one damn dime.

There are people laughing at this situation or saying others are soooooo delicate

But some people in rural areas where these cut offs are happening don’t even have access to water because the pump houses are on electric.

If we didn’t have a hot tub I wouldn’t have been able to flush the toilet. I’m able bodied so I was able to carry water up and down the stairs. I should have filled the bath tub with water but I didn’t think it through.

I’m not complaining.
I just think it’s insane that a luxury item saved my ass. A luxury item not many people have.

I’m lucky my FemmeMountain Family lived somewhere that losses power in the winter before so they knew what to do and I just rolled with it.

But what if.
What if we didn’t have a generator
What if most of us weren’t able bodied
What if we didn’t have a community with means to tap into
What if we didn’t have enough money in the account to buy a tank of gas the day before or some food items that don’t need to be cold.
What if we were dependent on a local 9 to 5 to pay the bills
What if we were older with no immediate family in the area
What if a fire happened anyway and we couldn’t get down the stairs and our car out of the garage because we don’t have the ability to stand to pull the lever on the manual release.

I had a rager of a headache yesterday all day because I couldn’t get good sleep on my CPAP…and maybe the mushrooms, but mostly the CPAP!

I didn’t want to chance the generator going out in the night because I’ll suffocate before I wake up and it’s terrifying to have that happen.

I have the privilege of being able to get to the Berkeley flats
I have the privilege of being able to have my choice of places to stay due to a queer love fueled network

I don’t have a headache today.

My worry is so trival compared to so many still without power.

They can’t work
Their food has spoiled
They can’t breathe
Some are trapped in their homes
Some have no water

And PG&E as of last fucking night refused to comment on wether all the money that went to maintenance actually went to maintenance last year or this year.

In a press conference they said it wasn’t their concern. Blame the environment and not our shitty equipment that has been in neglect for years and years.

I’d rather not see another devastating fire and this will have devastating effects for people to. For the most vulnerable of us.

Meanwhile Sacramento is on it’s own grid like LOL y’all totes should have invested in local county run power companies. This could have been you ⚡💡⚡but y’all gave into the monopoly.

Even writing about an energy shut down as an extreme situation is hella 1st world because there are places that don’t even haaaaave access 24/7

We ain’t ready.

Here’s a community link if you need or can offer assistance.

*As of writing this I have one person in my network who has a family member in the ER as a direct result of electrical outrage + disability

several single mothers with children and no support having to purchase food

several disabled friends and family living in spaces they can’t get around in

several people having CPAP sleep overs


I remember saying “No”

The way it rolled off my lips with the same ease as goodmorning or goodnight
The laughter that announced its arrival and filled the silence in its wake

I remember how clean it was
No regrets
No taint of “with exception” or “I’ll consider if you would only… ”

My No was softness around me
Something warm with muscles running beneath the tuft coat of a cat like beast

It coiled around my feet
licked my calves

A gentle thing to me but terrifying to others


I remember how I wielded it, fed it, loved it with an unconscious ease before I was told to chain it, hide it, deny it valuable resources so others could love me

No one has ever loved me in the particular way my No once had.

I’m remembering her as I cry over her starved and shrunken frame
As I brush her coat, give her my tears to drink and my rage to eat

I tend her the way she tended me as a child. I pull her into my heart and beg her forgiveness.
Remind her how we were once like Calvin and Hobbes
Changing worlds, bending possibility, clearing roads

Expansive… I remember her as she buries her face into my hair with relief
Grown now as I am
I remember the child this beast once guarded
I remember how precious we were to each other
I remember
And I welcome both back home.

Art Credit: Simba Wa Kike – Jennalee Auclair

Black Hair Magic

This is why I will bite you if you ask to touch my hair.

In addition to slave days being over
In addition to the fact that wearing my hair in “natural” styles or approximations of natural styles is still grounds for unemployment in many states
In addition to power imbalance, exoticism etc.

It’s become a part of my magic.

The hair gets a smokebath and the filigrees get popped in the cauldron for a blessing.

When I put it in I watch my favorite movies or listen to my bawse bitch playlist. I eat smoked salmon and cheese and fruit.
I take a shot of whiskey
I sing and make plans with my ancestors.

I thank them for all their blessings, for all their love, for their eyes and teeth.

My hair becomes an altar cloth of me.
Even the color is rooted in some work I am doing.

This hair protects because it absorbs. Sometimes I have to take it out even if it still looks good because it starts to hurt and ache.

It tells me it’s done.

Taking it down is a silly process.
Sometimes I thank it
Sometimes I face a mirror and I scream
cut it out like mourning, like rage
like I can’t get it out fast enough.
get it out the house quick.

A bath follows:
submerge self in a sacred tea
allow the self silence
sleep in white.

I wake and it starts anew.

Some of the most powerful rituals I’ve created are based on things I already do. I’m getting ready to teach a class on this kind of crafting in soon 🖤