“Who are you?” A voice asked.
I broke from my trance, aware of the soothing warmth of the ceramic mug, the chatter of voices, and the feel of eyes upon me. Qiyamah.
He smiled, repeating himself slowly.
“Who are you?”
Who am I? For that brief moment I knew

I am a nomad of love
Wandering through deserts of despair
Camping in oasis that fade away
Hunting on land full of swift souls
And still I forge on.
I am a warrior of love
Planning the best defense to protect
My heart standing knee deep in false hope
Fighting for a prize I have yet to find
And still I solider on.
I am an artist of love
Molding my burning desires into shapes
Writing a song that dares to be sung
Painting a picture only I can see
And still I dream on.
I am a believer of love
Preaching on theories that have no validity
Teaching a vision of both folk and faith
Praying for something I know must be
And always I move on.
Onward to the final destination.
That I know, that I feel, that I need –
love.

But instead I smiled and said,
“I am a very…simple woman.”

*Nomad of Love ©️ 2004 TaMara E’Lan G.
**Excerpt from
Timeless: Through the Eyes of a Poet by TaMara E’Lan G. ©️ 2018

September 2019, I was walking to the bus stop to go to work at the church as the administrative assistant. The day was rough. My body was hurting and I didn’t understand or know why, yet refusing to take the opiates the doctors offered me to mask the pain. Walking with my heavy backpack, my spirit was low and my head was down as I braved the even heavier traffic of Lafayette Road. Walking with my head down, something that growing up in my family and in my neighborhood, was taught not to ever do.
“You don’t ever walk with your head down. It’s a sign of weakness, insecurity or pain. Always walk with your head held high, no matter what or who, you don’t look down unless you are picking up something.” I heard my grandmother’s words with every step I took, chuckling a bit to myself about how crazy I often drove her.
I’d joke and say “But Gaga, I’ve found some good stuff with my head down. Remember that $100 bill I found on our way from the ticket house? I found my favorite stone, a lottery ticket and that sack of weed…”
“Hush!” she’d scream and I’d giggled but straighten my face sure enough out of respect and the fact that I knew that my grandmother was, as always, “speaking the truth.”
Yet that day in September 2019 with Chronic pain, depression, grief and mourning so much loss – my head was down. I was in the midst of several storms and my backpack probably weighed a ton. Midway in the middle of the street, as the cars raced by on every side, on the ground lay a butterfly on its side. Its wings flapped weakly, barely moving and as the cars passed by us both on every side, I walked past it and thought, “how sad, it’s going to die.”
I had got to the bus stop but couldn’t take my mind off that butterfly, so I walked back to the middle of the street, noticed it had stopped moving and picked up the butterfly by its wings. Here I was hurting, going through, in the middle of heavy traffic and afraid of bugs – picking up this butterfly by its wings to take it back to the bus stop, for what, I didn’t know. I placed it among some flowers and weeds, and as I waited on my bus to arrive, the butterfly’s wings began to flap as it moved up higher on the flowers and finally the light pole. As my bus came, I took a picture of the butterfly without understanding how significant that moment truly was or what the purpose of this simple encounter with another of Yah’s wounded creatures, on this particular day, was for. I can tell you that when I got on the bus that day, my spirit was much lighter and my head was held high.
I will never know what happened to the butterfly. It could have dropped dead the minute I was gone, fallen victim to a bird, went back into the streets to be run over or it could have flown to lands unknown. I can’t tell you what happened to that butterfly because that part of its journey was not my assignment. My assignment was a mere simple thing and gesture, to pick up that butterfly and put it in a better position.
In ancient culture the butterfly is a symbol or personification of the soul and rebirth. In fact the Greek word for “butterfly” means “soul” or “mind”
“The butterfly at the bus stop” became my testimony on how we should never be content on walking past something or someone who is afflicted, who needs help, and not do anything. This encounter reminds me that we are all Yah’s butterflies and at some point, we have all been that butterfly in the middle of some road or storm in our lives, where we were or felt weak and The Most High sent someone to pick us up by our wings and put us in a better position in life. Be it physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, financially or professionally.
So when we talk about mental health and spiritual health, we have to talk about how 50% of mental health illness is hereditary and 50% environmental. We can not control what we are as far as our heredity but we can control how we help ourselves or others who are afflicted. For those who are commissioned to serve by ministering to others also note that you can’t pick a butterfly up safely by the wings if you are too busy stepping on the body by being judgmental, self absorbed and/or holier than thou attitude. How can you both judge and labor with someone at the same time? Sometimes we call ourselves picking somebody up but because we are either too broken ourselves, ill equipped or too distracted that we end up causing further damage by pulling their wings off.
And if you are the butterfly at any point in your life, it’s ok to have faith and get help too. It’s ok to have therapy and theology, to allow yourself to be picked up and placed in a better position. Don’t let anyone tell you that therapy is a waste of time, especially when they don’t have the time, because it’s not. When we have been all traumatized by a violent American history, an impatient, unemphatic, unjust and harsh world that results in the lives of our children being taken, them taking each other lives and taking their own lives – it’s’ evident that it feels as if there are more butterflies in the middle of the road than they are up flying. Do we truly see each other? Do we not recognize that how we treat or don’t treat our fellow brothers and sisters has such a ‘butterfly effect’ in the world?
We need to seek to always be obedient, use our discernment and be bold in our assignments. That each of us are butterflies, a soul, that as long as we are living may be seen at any given time, in the middle of the road or in mid-flight on this journey called life. The next time you see someone in need of being picked up by their wings, may you not walk by content on that it’s not your assignment or so caught up in your own world that you fail to see the beauty and purpose in another. So as we continue to pick each other up, may we pick up our own wings by doing so and fly to destinations unknown but always felt.

~ copyright © 2019 TaMara E’Lan G.

If we are to walk by faith and not by sight,
we must overcome fear with all of our might.
Knowing that the most high does not give us a spirit of fear
we stand on to the promises of Hope we hold dear
Being a conqueror is not for the selfish or weak
With each guided step it is strength that we seek
For this world is full of tribulations and trials
We must be overcomers of life for awhile
and keep on living strong as best as we can
Loving ourselves and others across this land
Standing up to injustice and evil with heart
Shining our light in all places to overcome the dark
Speaking the truth and Standing on divine faith
our voice must bring change as the world may break
We will solider on together with our heads held high
We will experience choas in this world until our spirits meet the sky
Yet together we must face and confront our fears
As we gather in fellowship to help wipe each other’s tears
For we are all spiritual beings living a physical life
We must have courage when dealing with obstacles and strife.
We shall overcome and this too shall pass
We must tell ourselves these affirmations to last.
We can’t conquer that which we don’t face
And sometimes fear can have its own place.
But fear is not a space for us in dwell in
We have places to go and people to pour in
There is no failure in The Most High after all
So Warriors pick yourselves up and answer the call.

I remember the smell of Charlie perfume and peppermint candy, the sound of her strong voice and the feel of her warm, calloused hands. Grandma Lee Lee, as she was fondly called, loved to cook, dance and play the piano at church. Often when GaGa had political engagements and mommy was busy living her life, I spent immeasurable time with Grandma Lee Lee. I just had my sixth birthday party and although Grandma Lee Lee wasn’t feeling well, I remember her being the fun hostess everyone adored because she always loved a good party. I remember going home and a few days later waking up to everyone crying in my house. When GaGa told me Grandma Lee Lee had died, my little mind couldn’t comprehend it. I told my grandmother that Grandma Lee Lee had just come to me that night, beautiful and not sick. She told me that she was better, that she loved me and I was to be a good girl because she’ll be watching me. How could Grandma Lee Lee come see me if she was dead? My grandmother looked at me, the tears streaming from her eyes and held me close without saying a word.
That was my first memory and experience with death and a couple of years later a childhood friend, Karla Campbell, was kidnapped and murdered. We were just eight years old and all I was thinking about was that I was never going to see her again because a bad man hurt her. My biggest heartbreak came in 2000 when we had to make the most difficult decision to take my grandmother off life support on Easter Sunday at noon. GaGa had been my world and I had been her caregiver since a senior in high school. I never fully recovered from that decision or day and over the years, I would replay and relive the moment to my mental and spiritual detriment.
Since then, death has often paralyzed me each time; with the last decade experiencing multiple losses, seemingly back to back with little time or rest to process the last transition of a loved one. For example late 2011-2013, I had lost thirteen loved ones; among them my god child, the suicide of a cousin, the murder of another cousin, my uncle who was my father figure and finally ending with the sudden death of my grief counselor herself. I had started going to therapy in 2012 to deal with my compounded grief and she was a great inspiration for my healing. Imagine someone giving you coping tools for grief processing and ultimately you have to deal with losing them as well. It was the first time I had heard about complicated and compounded grief:

“Complicated grief is like being in an ongoing, heightened state of mourning that keeps you from healing. Signs and symptoms of complicated grief may include: Intense sorrow, pain and rumination over the loss of your loved one. Focus on little else but your loved one’s death.”

“Compounded grief, also known as cumulative grief, is a pile-on effect of grief or “grief overload.” It may mean losing several loved ones in a short period of time. It may mean losing a loved one, then a relationship, then a job, then a pet, then a natural disaster hits and damages your home, etc. The losses can come from various sectors, but put together, it’s a big pile of grief and loss to deal with”

I thought I would never see a season of so much loss like 2011-2013 but unfortunately, I was wrong. And although my perception of death matured with my spirituality, my constant and prolonged grieving has often prevented me from healing as much as I could. 2017 I lost my mother to breast cancer after an estrangement. Being at her bedside, despite it all, I was allowed to care for her the last two weeks of her life and by the Lord’s grace, we found our closure before she transitioned but the mourning of our relationship and time lost continues until this day. I would experience more loss soon after, a village mother and two pets, which only compounded my grief. Then the pandemic hit and of course like many, Covid-19 took some loved ones I thought I’d never be without and I found myself drowning in depression even as I facilitated grief and bereavement support groups for Project WINGS.
Last year I lost my big brother Sean and a childhood friend back to back. The holidays are hard to endure and haven’t been the same for years but I push through for others sake and not my own. It can be daunting to have to smile when inside you are drained and emotional from grieving.
Even as I write this, I’ve experienced the loss of five loved ones since June 2023. A dear cousin that was like a brother, a best friend since seventh grade, a nephew to murder, a father figure/mentor and a young man that had become my earth son the last few years. As much as I try, the world seems so hard and feels so cold dealing with loss. However I heard a saying recently “Grief is the price you pay for loving that person” and Dr. Joseph Smedley tells us that after each loss, you have to reinvent yourself because you are not the same person who was before the loss of a loved one. Having cumulative grief means constantly reinventing myself almost to the point of not recognizing who I am sometimes. I’ve found some solace in therapy, family and friends as my life lines yet sometimes I struggle with feeling like a burden or downer to them, so I tend to isolate which isn’t good for my mental health. Though I still struggle and will continue to fight myself, I offer these tidbits for someone who is dealing with complicated or compounded grief:

Therapy
I can’t stress enough the importance of counseling to help with your mental health! You can have theology/religion and therapy too, in fact, I strongly suggest you do both to help heal your overall being. Because grief is also a mental health crisis, it is important to get the tools and resources you need to survive it.

Coping Skills
Whatever your healthy coping skill is, use it!
I know people who walk or jog, I know others who are creatives using their talents and some who volunteer for organizations. I’m grateful to be an artist that can utilize some of my gifts to help relieve stress, anxiety and depression. Laughter is also one of my coping skills I utilize to get me through hard times. Coping skills help us to raise our resilience against life stressors. Just a simple act of sitting in the sun, watching a movie, listening to music or helping someone can make you feel better. Find a way to celebrate or honor their lives in some way. Being grateful for their lives, the impact they have in yours and cherishing fond memories.

Life lines
Have a circle of family/friends that you can lean on during this time. There is power in reaching out to those who love you and empathize with you. Having a trusted circle that you can go to in times of need is essential to your wellbeing and self-care.

Griever’s Rights
You have griever’s rights, use them! I find it necessary to remind myself to be kind and gracious to myself while grieving. That everyone grieves differently and that grief is not a straight line. Look up mental and spiritual health resources that can help you during your grief process. Know that grieving is a unique journey for every individual. Know your grievers rights and honor your grief processing.

Prayer and Praise
Pray, Pray and Pray! We are social, biological, psychological and spiritual beings. The journey of healing entails addressing each aspect of our beings and I personally have found that praying daily, listening to mediation and/or praise music helps to stabilize my moods and helps to raise my vibrations against depression. It’s not easy but there are times when I have to literally stay in prayer all day to stay focused, encouraged and to keep my mood up.

Self-care
Take care of yourself!
All of the above is self-care and self-care is imperative to the grief process as well as the journey of healing. Sometimes self-care is hard to do when you can’t get out of bed, or just taking a shower seems so overwhelming. In therapy and living through cumulative grief, I’ve discovered that small steps, coping skills and grace for myself aids in my self-care.

Loves and Lights, grief is something you don’t get over but live through. For those of us who are experiencing cumulative grief, the journey can often feel endless but after every storm is a rainbow. Sometimes you have to fight extra hard to see or find it, but the rainbow is always there, a promise from The Most High that this too shall pass and that we are not alone. There is help and hope for us if we choose to seek it. As I live out my grieving process, my prayer for myself and for anyone struggling is that you have comfort, grace and strength on your healing journey. That you celebrate Life’s about moments so please don’t give up; stay encouraged and find your joy in every moment and everywhere that you can, while you can.

I love you

At 11 years old I wrote my first suicide letter and attempted suicide for the first time at age 16. Throughout the years I struggled with suicidal behavior and attempted suicide many times. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, social-anxiety disorder and PTSD. This resulted in me self medicating, with alcohol and prescription drugs that I used to numb a very wounded journey that was often judged, misunderstood and never discussed in my family. In December of 2009, a high school classmate and close friend, Stepf Hiser, took his life just a few weeks after our high school reunion. I did not attend and regret till this day, missing seeing him that last time. It was so devasting for everyone because very few knew he struggled, yet we had been soldiers in the trenches of our mental health battle together, my comrade and confidante. Then in 2012, I lost yet another dear loved one to suicide. In 2014, Stepf came to me in dream, put his arms around me and we talked about helping others in the struggle to avoid such a painful existence and exit. I awoke from that drean visit with a promise in my heart, yet that would not reach fruition until after seasons full of many losses sealing my commitment to being sober and to one day help others who struggle with mental health. I started walking and volunteering with AFSP since. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, domestic abuse, community violence, addiction, who has a mental health condition and suicide attempts under my belt; I use to be ashamed to feel or be viewed as this “Posterchild of tragedy.” But once the most high gave me the strength, I finally found the courage to #BeTheVoice to share my story with others to promote healing, bring awareness and love. I then humbly became a “Posterchild of testimony.” It’s been a challenging journey of tenacity; yet since 2017, with a group of other survivors, I am one of the co-founders and President of Project W.I.N.G.S. Our mission “We Inspire Nurture Guide and Support anyone affected by a mental heart disorder and/or a mental health crisis within our community.” I am so grateful to be here to represent not only Project W.I.N.G.S, but every suicide attempt and suicide loss survivors everywhere. You are never alone and you are forever loved!
My, Our and Their story is not over ;

The storm had finally arrived after brewing in a silent sea of delusion for far too long. The wind of truth blew fiercely against us all and the rain that fell endlessly were indeed our tears. The clouds drifted across an amber sky of clustered thoughts that hid the sunlight that day.
Yet still I held her to me.
I spoke of angels and good Soul food, whispered love and affirmations in her ear, and kissed her lips. Memories like morning dew covered and saturated my heart.
Yet still I held her to me.
Not knowing that she felt me or even knew who I was any longer because the time was at hand. Her breathing was shallow and yet the life she had lived spoke volumes throughout her transitioning. There was no more time for abandonment issues or thoughts of past transgressions; no space for generational strongholds to reinforce trauma bonding. For soon she would be gone, embraced by the light and Angels she adored. “Thank you” she had told me a mere few days ago as I cared for her, cleaning her and playing her favorite music. “I love you” she had said words that I thought I would never hear her say again after our estrangement.
Yet still I held her to me.
The embrace gave us both the closure that we needed and sought from each other. This day the hospice nurse comes to pull us out of the dark room “Give her space to transition” she said, “often loved ones won’t transition when being watched.” At the time, and in my grief, I thought that was odd of her to say. However when we went back into the room, I touched my mommy’s cooling skin and her stillness almost frightens me, yet it was then that I knew she was gone.
Yet still I held her to me.
Emotions too deep to express escaped us as we gathered around the shell that once housed her spirit. She had joined the ancestors that now danced in the wind beyond this realm. And as the years and time attempt to comfort us all in her absence, as she comes to visit us in dreams to hold dear with our memories, when moments too big for explanation are captured – my thoughts are of our last hug, when still I held her to me.

Love still lives on

There are promises that surpasses this world,
often filled with things in life we can’t comprehend.
Yet when we take a moment to be still and believe,
there is a song that’s being played on the wind.
When the breeze caresses your tear streaked face,
when you grieve in despair that they’re gone,
we must remember that love never dies
in the light and in our hearts love still lives on.
When the raindrops fall and mingle with tears,
when the sun rises and sets on days hard and long,
allow the rays of God’s love and light to engulf you,
for in God’s embrace is proof that love still lives on.
That random butterfly or strange cloud in the sky,
that whisper or suddenly you hear that special song.
Our loved ones are always near and with us,
giving those signs that their love still lives on.
To grieve is human and we know,
that the process is never a straight line.
There are moments when you can laugh and smile,
there are moments when you may feel out of your mind.
Beloved feel what you feel when you feel it,
for each of us will grieve in different ways.
Yet be compassionate to others and yourself,
it’s a path we all have to walk and ultimately take.
Allow your village of lights to surround and lift you,
may the Lord comfort your hearts all along,
for the word says “I will give everlasting life”
that’s a promise from God that love still lives on.
Fill your spirit with affirmations and memories,
know that in the midst of life’s storms you are never alone.
May God strengthen you always with heavenly kisses,
a reminder that love never dies when love still lives on.