My Ancestor’s Birthday Gift To Me.

HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY TO ME.

Thank you so much for the birthday love. I genuinely appreciate it. I genuinely appreciate every comment, like, and read I receive. Y’all keep me going 🥹🤎 Please don’t forget to subscribe to my new blog, for josephine. i have some things coming up. I’ve been working with TikTok influencers, community figures, and other notable people to bring y’all some good shit!

Also don’t forget to follow my playlist. This playlist represents how I want to come into 26/how I’ve been feeling lately🤎

Thank you once again.

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You know what’s funny? I actually had no interest in doing a blog post for my birthday whatsoever. I also wasn’t interested in reminding anyone of my birthday because I actually hate getting attention on my birthday and I’ve never felt like birthdays were a big deal for me. This could really be due to the fact that my birthday was never really celebrated much as a kid. So to me, they aren’t a big deal.

But this one feels… different. And I’m not just saying that, I promise. I really mean it. I have this knowing that something is right around the corner for me. And here’s why: my ancestors already confirmed it kinda sorta?

Two days ago, I was balling my eyes out and crying because I felt like I was so behind in life. I wrote the most morbid, depressing shit about how I felt like my ancestors were literally getting a high off torturing me and making sure I never amounted to anything in life (I’m dramatic and I think my ancestors, along with whoever is reading this knows this by now). I started talking about how I believed dreaming was reserved for those with pale skin and those with privilege and resources and opportunity. I doubted my ancestors. I questioned whether or not all the signs and synchronicities were indeed real or if I was just manic and delusional. I told myself that none of this shit was worth it and that I was just going to go back to comfort zone and none of the changes really mattered. None of the effort I was putting in really mattered to my ancestors, in my head. That’s what where my headspace was at.

Now, a couple weeks prior to this I started putting my power to use and using green candles and herbs to bring in more abundance, prosperity, finances, and opportunity. A career pivot was definitely most needed for me, as I am finally realizing that I am not cut out for the mundane 9-5 corporate jobs. My brain is way too expansive and visionary to be sitting at a fucking desk. Being on my feet, traveling, sharing my knowledge to others, and meeting people from all walks of life was what was important for me. Workshop facilitation, community organizing, creative direction… that kinda thing.

I did some rootwork and candle work for these things. And the thing is, when I did it, I KNEW that something was going to come for me. I had this unshakeable confidence and faith. I didn’t know what, but I knew my people were gonna be working behind the scenes for me, and all I needed to do was… relax. No longer chase, just receive. That was a channeled message I received from them constantly. I’ve never in my life been in my receiving energy. I always wanted to control the dynamics of everything because I ain’t want no damn surprises.

The next day, I sprinkle some cinnamon in my left shoe, along with a penny, I grab my mojo bag, tuck it in my pocket, and walk out the door to go to my favorite bookstore: Uncle Bobbie’s. There, I had one of the most profound, fascinating conversations ever with a friend of mine, Dalaney. We were talking about spiritual awakenings, the racism in Western psychology, overthinking vs. intuition, and how we were both in this era of our lives where we wanted friendships that exceeded surface-level. It was the perfect amount of vulnerability, transparency, and openness for me. Then, she started asking me questions about Hoodoo. I think she asked me something along the lines of, “So is Hoodoo just about belief in self?”. I paused and thought about that. Not because I didn’t know the answer (which was yes), but because the question in itself brought me a realization. None of this shit is gonna hit unless you believe in yourself. It especially hit different for me because I had just been watching a movie breakdown about Eve’s Bayou— specifically the character Aunt Mozelle. To summarize, the creator was explaining how even though Aunt Mozelle had this psychic gift and was able to help others in her community with it, she failed to see the power within herself. She believed her life was cursed because of her tragic love life, and so… it was cursed. Her negative and morbid words became her actual belief system and she failed to see how much power her words had. So much so to the point, where she was unable to trust HERSELF. Take, for example, the scene where she sees the local witch and psychic, Elzora after he sister decides to see her.

Elzora knew she did not believe in herself. She wore her insecurity on her sleeve and anyone could tell without so much as a peep of a word. It was obvious that she doubted herself and her own control over her life that Elzora could just tell her anything. And she did. She told Mozelle that every husband of hers would die. That she was destined for suffering. And Mozelle freaked out, believing it. Kinda made me think about how I did that in my own life. I’m not blind to the fact that systems exist that make things harder for me (and others), but we can fight back. Doesn’t erase these systems whatsoever, but you can fight back in your own way. Small steps, you know? For me, I bring my mojo bag with me everywhere. I venerate my ancestors. I keep their names alive. Gullah Geechee people protected themselves from Boo Hags and Haints by placing blue bottles in trees, painting their doors blue, lining their window sills with salt.

You can protect yourself, you can advocate for yourself, and your words/actions have power. That’s what Hoodoo teaches you. Your ancestors want you to believe in who you are and where you come from. Words are spells. So, let’s stop with the deprecating humor and language and actually put our positive affirmations to use. After me and Dalaney finish talking, we hug, part ways, and then I head over to Beaucoop Hoodoo.

Interestingly enough, the very first thing I see when I walk in there is a book about Gullah Geechee Hoodoo. I’m like ain’t no motherfucking way. If you didn’t know, I have Gullah Geechee and Creole roots. It’s where everyone from my father’s side is from.

Recently, I’ve been digging more and researching the culture, because no one in my family ever talked about it like that. Why? I think they were very ashamed of it. My grandma traveled up North, converted to Christianity compared to the lowcountry Hoodoo she grew up on, and others tried to fine tune their dialect (key word: tried), so as to fit in and not be amongst the few who had ‘broken English,’ though the Gullah language in itself is so beautiful. I effortlessly understand it and I think that in my being around my family, I picked up on the accent and dialect. Looking back, I think this is why my teacher tried putting me in speech classes during Elementary School. Even at my job now, I’m told I speak very slurred and sometimes, a little too slowly. I put an emphasis on my S words and drawl out my L words. I have a slight lisp and speech impediment. When I answer the phone, I always get, “Are you okay?.” That’s just how I speak. I believe my Philly accent combined with the Gullah language I’ve picked up makes my speech stand out. I’ve mastered being able to sound more palatable in certain spaces or around people, so some are often confused when I say I have a history of being critiqued as far as my speech, but that’s just good ole code switching and masking, which is a skill in itself. I can turn it on and off when I choose to. But, I think Josephine just be speaking through me.

In a dream, I had a vision about two specific herbs. While at my altar, a vision of a very specific food kept flashing in my brain as well. When I opened the book, the page was one that ‘coincidentally’ had all of those on one page. It spooked me. I’m like, it’s no way this is mere coincidence. I had no idea that the food and herbs I had dreamed about were Gullah staples. I immediately tuck the book away and put it back on the shelf. Chills traveled up and down my arm. I look around and this book still keeps sticking out to me. I buy it anyway, go home, and incorporate these herbs into my work.

After I get home, I light my green seven-day candle again, say my prayers, and ask for abundance. Immediately after that, I’m scrolling on Instagram and I see a pretty popular platform is hiring for workshop facilitators at one of their retreats. When I went on the website, the brand’s mission statement, values, and background story were so eerily in alignment with me and what I want to do professionally that it scared the shit outta me. This is already mine, I thought. My ancestors purposely put this in my face. And how coincidental that it comes the day after I start doing my candle work? I instantly apply. In the application, I’m asked a series of questions about what my workshop would be and what the itinerary would be. I didn’t even prep and think about it, I’m just making up stuff on the spot, typing away. I just knew it was mine. Because I said it was.

After I hit submit, I’m just walking around saying I work at this particular place. Everyday, I’m repeating: “I effortlessly attract abundance, opportunity, prosperity, love, and passion.” I’m saying it as I’m going to the grocery store, as I’m taking my usual walks in the park, as I shower, as I’m typing at work. “I work at ______.”

The next day, I have this random ass urge to see my great-Uncle. I haven’t seen him in years.

I ask him a million and one questions about my grandmother, Josephine. I ask him about his experience growing up in St. Helena Island. He tells me stories of him fishing for crabs, weaving baskets together, eating an abundance of rice every night, and the distinct Gullah language he grew up around that was often criticized by other Southerners. I’m amazed by it all, wondering why he didn’t talk about it much when we were younger. We start talking about where I’m at in adulthood, what I am to do professionally, and I’m telling him I got this job at _______ and that I’ll be out the country in a couple months. Now, to some this might be considered a lie. But to me, it was manifestation. I genuinely believed I had this opportunity already. He’s excited for me, cheesing from ear to ear. Then, he goes on telling me how my grandmother was the first person to introduce him to pomegranates. My head shot up from the plate I was eating.

“Did you say pomegranates?,” I ask.

“Yes ma’am,” he says.

At my altar, I kept getting flashing visions of pomegranates as well. Ignoring it and thinking it’s a coincidence (once again), I didn’t give it too much meaning. But the fact that he said that… I’m like, am I going crazy?

As the weeks go on though, I randomly enter this state of limbo and my nervous system becomes very dysregulated because capitalism got me so caught up I’ve forgotten to ground myself. This is what leads to my crash out that I mentioned in the beginning of this post. Now here I am doubting all the signs I’ve received, wondering why my people want to keep me believing knowing there’s NOTHING there for me. I’m crashing out in my crib. I’m asking them to give me a sign that they are actually listening to me, because at this point? A bitch is tired. Like y’all don’t see I’ve been working on my control issues and learning to surrender? Y’all don’t see how much work I’ve been doing in trying to get this nigga off my mind? Y’all don’t see how much work I’ve been doing in learning how to ground myself and stay balanced? Like what is actually going AWWWWNNNN???? Why must I be punished? In the midst of that, what happens?

I get an email notification from this exact place telling me that my application had been picked, asking me when I’m available to discuss the role and my workshop. Two days before my 26th birthday. I know my people were like, “Hea dis gal go, leh gib this chil ha bress fo she light out wid theatrics. Hea chile. Na shush.”

When I tell y’all, I dropped to my knees and cried? The chills I experienced this time around were incomparable to the ones I experienced previously. I suddenly started seeing how interconnected everything was. The random urge to start taking my root work seriously, the Gullah Geechee book sitting in Beaucoop Hoodoo confirming the use of the herbs I kept feeling held significance to my Grandma Josephine, the random reconnection with my Uncle, the conversation with Dalaney, and many other events, which I will not mention. Kinda sorta feel like I’m co-creating with Josephine. I don’t know. Maybe I’m ‘delusional.’

happy birthday to me. 🤎